Heron Lake Plateau you should see me in a crown

It had been too long since he’d last had a proper meal. Hunger gnawed at his ribs, a constant reminder of how unforgiving the wilds could be. Ker was still adjusting to the harshness of solitude, and with every empty day, he cursed his isolation and aimless wandering.

Tonight, that would change. He would hunt. It would give him purpose.

Nose to the wind, he followed the mingling scents of prey, his senses sharpening as he approached the plateau. The frozen lake glistened in the distance, mesmerizing in the sunlight, but he refused to be distracted. Crouched low, he moved with quiet precision, his steps measured as he stalked the small herd of elk grazing ahead.

His earthen pelt stood out against the snowy expanse, but he was no stranger to the art of the hunt. He knew how to move unseen, how to blend with the shifting shadows. He waited, breath held, muscles coiled, watching for the perfect opening.

He did not yet realize that he was not the only predator lurking this frost-laden day. Unseen, an obsidian she-wolf mirrored his every move, just as patient, just as deadly.