Emberwood of mice

Peregrine loped after the ashen stranger. He hardly interacted with outsiders, much less hunted with them, though he didn't consider this a hunt. Raccoons were not prey. Yes, he would gladly chase and kill one — for sport. Like bear meat, the flesh of other carnivores did not sit well in the male's stomach. When he killed such animals, he typically left the carrion to even smaller meat eaters.

Presently, he didn't even attempt to participate actively in the pursuit. Rather, he dogged the other wolf's steps, happy to merely observe. He only caught glimpses of the coon scrambling ahead, yet he found the creature's squat gait rather amusing and his face eventually broke into a wolfish grin as he trotted along.