Moonspear the day's divinity

Just as he'd been preparing to settle for the evening, a summons from close by made his pause in his tracks. He held his breath, canting a raven lobe in the direction that the howl had sounded from, and rumbled approvingly to himself as he recognised her request. It was a call for support, a rallying of nearby wolves to accompany her in a hunt. Excitement bubbled within the boy's belly as he tore across the snow with renewed energy and without hesitation. In the months since being booted from Astarte Strand, he'd mostly lived off of leftovers and rodents and in the weeks before joining Moonspear, nothing at all. It was an opportunity to not only make himself useful, but to learn.

Movement up ahead caused the sterling yearling to slow his pace, and he found himself trailing several yards behind a tawny male. Talion followed his pack-mate's prints as he loped along an already worn trail through the drifts, tongue lolling over his lower jaw in eager anticipation as he jogged to keep up.

His frosty gaze lingered on the swarthy frame of the wolfess who'd initiated the hunt as he arrived on the scene, and Talion dipped his head and pressed his ears back at once. He breathed a whine, soft and barely inaudible, acknowledging his low position in the hierarchy as he stepped gingerly alongside the duo with a low, wagging tail and settled quietly to await instruction.