Dragoncrest Cliffs Archerfish

Swordfish didn’t have much to say on the scent of the bog. Njord seemed to think that the smells his son had picked up were accurate enough. He added that the terrain could make it more difficult. The young wolf wondered if it was even worth it to try hunting in that area. The benefits did not seem to outweigh the disadvantages. For the sake of giving his father the benefit of the doubt, he continued along.

Njord was well-versed, at least. He mentioned something that drew his son’s ears to a point. Swordfish hadn’t considered looking for his prey’s food. He merely assumed that if he could pick up on a scent, he should follow it until he caught up to something. The young wolf had followed tracks, too. This information shared by his father was different – it was new.

What do beavers eat? Buncha wood?

Swordfish flicked an ear sideways at his father. The tip of his red tail waved slightly as his lips curved into the softest of smirks. Based on the gnawing at the base of the tree, that's exactly what they ate.