Barrow Fields royal

The hunt and its resulting chase had gone well, the grouse he had caught laying near him, mangled and half eaten. The remains were enough to sate Miwa, and so he left them as he lay there, cleaning his paws and muzzle with long, sure licks of his tongue. A douse in the river they settled near would be enough to lift the pink from his fur, so there was little care for any spots he missed. 

It was only when movement distracted him that the wolf looked up, watching as another set his nose to the scents of the world. Was he, too, looking for a meal or something else? Stjornuati would simply watch until the boy slipped from sight or approached him.