Otatso Wetlands the big dipper

The other approached, the tell-tale squelch of mud under paw grew louder the closer that the other came to him. As she drew nearer he could depict her scent, able to tell that, while he was not familiar with the scent and could not name it that she was, at least, apart of a pack. Soon enough a white female came through the tall grasses that served as some type of mother nature contradiction to the wetlands. Sure, the grass provided adequate coverage but the mud was a dead ringer. It wasn't, exactly, an ideal place to hunt. It wasn't even Sumayl's ideal place to track a herd, which, ironically, was what had brought him out this far to begin with. The girl greeted him quietly and Sumayl took a small measure of a second to observe her before he replied with a simple “Hello.”