Phoenix Maplewood Who the Hell is Leviticus Cornwall?

it'd been days since @Angel Oak departed, sega knew this, but it didn't stop him from scouting the nearby lands to see if there was a trace of her left behind, or freshly renewed. his hopes, albeit slim, were crushed as he came up empty handed.

not entirely, though, it seemed. the air was thick with sap and last-season berries, their scent rising as his paws pressed the forest floor. he had been circling this stretch for a couple days now.

as he crested a small rise, another scent curled into his nose— heavier, earth-rich, not subtle in the slightest.

sega paused, narrowing his eyes, listening to the crackle of brush under the stranger’s weight.

hunting, yes. but not quiet. not hidden. hunger drove him more than skill.

for a moment, sega simply observed, marking the lines of him, the way he carried strength and emptiness in equal measure.

the caribou-hunter in him read the body easily.

if it is food you seek, he appeared from the undergrowth, great sky has many carcass upon borders.