Broken Boulder look the void in the eye and laugh

hoping for a wild @Lily if you want/have time emily but anyone is welcome! :-)

it doesn't take vilkas long to learn the layout of his new home — the firebrand's always had a penchant for learning the secrets of territories; concealed paths and escape routes. it was all apart of his 'job', after all. there were many faucets and layers to being a mercenary as he's come to learn the wolves of the wilds call his general area of expertise; often times scout and mercenary overlapped to become necessary. a warrior that did not know the land he sought to defend and protect seemed a bit useless to the firebrand who tended to live in a world devoid of the grey between black and white. it was on a exploration excursion of thick and dense vegetation that he found the fawn, no doubt left by it's mother as mothers tend to do. it was an easy kill without it's mother there to defend it.

vilkas drags it towards the nearest food cache and spends a good part of his morning splitting the meat up between the food caches though there are several times he is tempted to take a bit of it for himself. when he is finished he eats the spare rib meat that remains and heart, allowing himself the treat. what is left of the corpse he debates between burying and letting for the birds. in the end, he shoos the hungry vultures and ravens off and buries what's left for the earth to reclaim. with cubs about to come into the world at any moment, in his mind, the risk of attracting a big scavenger was too high. having to deal with wolves being allowed to come and go as they pleased was stressful enough on the territorial firebrand.

he cleanses the blood and bits of carrion from his muzzle at the nearby rainwater pool, watching the crimson swirl as it evaporates in the water as he swipes his tongue across is jowls to collect the stray droplets that cling to the short fur on his chin.