Kintla Flatlands rest in peace this piece of mind [m]

Pura watched the whole thing with quiet interest.

After his second - technically first- murder, he had started to do his hunting further afield. The run-in with Lupa had been too close a call to repeat with someone with a keener sense of what was going on in front of them (like Dante, or heaven forbid, Blue), and Pura had ventured further away from the pack to conduct his dark business today.

He happened upon Ciervo quite by chance. The older male stalked and killed a fox upwind from where Pura was resting (and watching), and the smell of blood drew the youth nearer. He crept and tip-toed his way closer whilst the male feasted, catching the satisfying crunch of bone with cupped ears.

Before he could stop himself, Pura was too close. Favourable wind direction would no longer disguise his scent, and his breathing was too loud. He was hungry, and Ciervo's meal smelled delicious - even though it was a fox he had killed, and not a wolf.

"I also eat foxes," he announced flatly, emerging from his hiding place not twenty meters away. Well, preferably wolves, but 'I eat wolves' was not a socially appropriate greeting. The glimmer of hope Pura felt in his heart was not in any way reflected in his stare.