Blacktail Deer Plateau Mouths are dry, river runs

Massive behind the scenes PP taken here of the pack!

The recent kill had been a spectacle. The Cairn children watched as the adults of Raventhorpe worked together to hunt down and dispatch one of the deer from a nearby herd; a feat of teamwork that inspired the boy. He had watched and learned despite the overwhelming desire to join in, instead obediently staying on the outskirts of the hunt and later helping to drag the carcass closer to the caches – at least, as much as his still-growing self could.

It was no surprise the scent had caught the attention of a hungry loner.

After the pack had eaten their fill, Arrax amused himself with picking at a bone that he had carried away from his pesky siblings should they be tempted to take it. With a full belly and the sunlight warming his fur, he felt himself grow drowsy, until the sudden sound of determined paw steps and a foreign scent jolted him awake.

The boy scrambled to his feet, abandoning his toy and heading to intercept the trespasser like a heat-seeking missile. He spied his tall, cream and cinnamon form through the trees and moved to block his path with a dominant lift of his tail and a warning snarl that rippled from his throat, trying to emulate the leviathan that was his father.

"Stop."