Dawnlark Plains LXXIII

His attention lingered on the red pup too long. By the time Cambria’s focus returned to his fellow adults, they were already on the move. His lips parted as he watched Ulfhedinn take point, the pale she-wolf—surely his mate and Treow’s mother—trailing in his wake. Mulherin hastened after the pair, his gait as confident as it was swift.

I’ve never hunted in a group before, Cambria said to the clouds of dust they left behind to swirl in the summer air.

Loath to disappoint his new pack mates, he loped after them. His two-toned eyes cut from one figure to another, trying to discern their target. But as the wolves closed upon the herd, the caribou scattered. Cambria didn’t know where to focus his attention.

Then a memory popped into his head: Berserkr saying, “The guy you met earlier is Ulfhedinn, our hunt leader.” His gaze found the white male in the chaos. Breathing hard, Cambria picked up the pace and decided his best bet was to follow his lead.