Morningside Cuesta morning glory

Lestan wasn't the only figure on the prowl as dawn broke the skies darkness. The sun peaked over the horizon, shining between the crags as the white goliath carefully treaded after the silhouette of oaken hues. His tail flicked mindlessly, keeping his distance, though a woof would've been let out by now to alert the man of his presence.

The prey scent was noticeable, its' presence in the air a reminder of hunger: one of Lestan's hunger, Frederick noted, as he dropped into a crouch. But a hare? That was what he was going after—when there were plenty ungulates around? The smell of caribou rode the wind, and for a moment the giant was reminded of home.

But, nonetheless, Frederick watched in the distance, quietly seating himself. He'd wait for Lestan to pounce and start on his meal before getting any closer. Maybe he could hunt a deer and give the two of them a heartier breakfast. But if this was what Lestan preferred, he supposed he shouldn't be judgemental.

A quiet hum, then falling back into silence.