Lost Creek Hollow The number of places in paradise is limited.

@Arbiter, maybe?   :)

Having spent the weeks since his arrival at the edges of Lost Creek Hollow territory, Artyom kept mostly to himself as he acclimatised to new pack life. It wasn't that he was actively avoiding any new pack-mates, he simply wished to recharge his depleted energy sources and sleep. He scraped himself a small den in the dirt where he could rest without feeling vulnerable out in the open.

Finally ready to integrate and earn his place, the pale wolf ventured from his burrow to hunt. He pressed on through unfamiliar woodland quietly in search of prey's fresh trail. Sunlight broke through the canopy above, dappling the old deer path before him, but he focused on the sounds all around him: morning birdsong, the distant roar of flowing waters, the rustle of leaves in the Summer breeze.

When at last he successfully felled a lonely fawn, the young wolf sent up a howl to alert nearby comrades to his kill - an invitation to feast alongside him in an effort to forge a bond with the wolves he'd chosen to live alongside.