fire flashes in the sky

Following Nevermore's trail to these Teekon Wilds had proved to be a challenge with the snow flurries covering up his tracks and scent trail, but Jackdaw, christened Savage by the inky DeMonte that had sired him and his siblings, was nothing if not persistent. He had long surpassed where Nevermore's own trail stopped, having the scent of the northern pack in his mind in the case he ever figured out how he felt about Nevermore's choice to leave them, and when he did if he would approach his father about it. In any case, Jackdaw was pleased with his overall tracking abilities, proving that he was nothing if not adept at it.

Adyssa had been the best scout of Riverbend Forest before she had taken it's throne as it's reigning monarch; a position she had to fight for, as she told it. It was not common knowledge that the wolves were not fond of a coywolf leading them. It was Jackdaw that Adyssa had warned about potential prejudices, because though he was more wolf than he was coyote, he was a balanced hybrid nevertheless. His swarthy black coat fading to the mocha brown of his belly, hocks (except for his two black toes), and tail tip giving him an almost German Sheppard appearance. Out of his siblings, besides Calamity who was the spitting image of Adyssa, he was the only one to take from the coywolf gene pool. Though Jackdaw had taken into account his mother's words of warning, he chose not to fret uses uselessly over them. His genes would not hinder him – he would not let them; besides there was nothing wrong with being a coywolf, in his opinion.

Golden eyes with starburst fiery orange around the dark abyss of oupils peered skyward, taking in the white puffs of clouds as they drifted lazily in the dawn painted skies, a myriad of rich colors above. He had paused in his patrol of the borders for a glimpse of the sun rising above the horizon, painting fire across the skyline and the fringes of green canopy towering above him. It was a breathtaking sight, and for the briefest if moments Jackdaw was captivated. A creak of a snow weighted limb above broke Jackdaw's wandering thoughts, though he jumped, startled, when some snow shimmed off the branch and landed atop his head. Ears slicked back as he shook it off, skirting out from under the tree not willing to take any chances. There was no telling if the branch would give into the pressure and break free of the tree.

Having idled enough he resumed his patrol, making a mental note to check the good caches afterwards to see if they could use a restock.