Moonsong Glacier the sun is not a-bed

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On this morning, Fallen Sun rose and swiftly got to his paws. He was eager to go on a hunt, to provide for moonpack. Perhaps one day, he'd learn that the pack was no longer moon but morning, and that it was closer to being sunpack than anything else. Regardless, he shifted each step in search of Silver Shadow (@Dutch) or Winter Song (@Eira), or some other moonwolf to help. 

Or not, he wasn't overly picky on what he did, but he would prefer a hunt! He wanted to move his paws and finally do some of the Work ma said a packwolf had to do.

When Fallen Sun calls, she is almost too quick to answer the summons. 

Traipsing near, a soft rabbit pelt adorning her shoulders, she greets him with a warm chuff, and a gentle nudge to his shoulder.

Knowing her words aren't always often understood, and asks the question with a slow tilt of her head. Why do you call?

The red man did not know why Winter Song approached as quickly as she did. She nudged his shoulder and in return he rested his head over her neck for a short time. No more than a couple of heartbeats. A tail wag. 

He noticed the rabbit fur. You put furs on you? But your pelt's fluffy! Are you that cold? 

Nonetheless, he nudged it, a whine that gave his intention as a question. You wanna hunt?

A small part of him kinda thought the rabbit's pelt made her prettier, but alas he could not compliment it.

It is a common thing of my tribekin to wear small pelts. She tells him, sensing the curiosity in the way he gestures to the skin.

But still, she does not understand why he calls her here. 

Does he desire her company? Or something of a different nature?

It is hard, learning this way of communication. But she is willing, for him.

It was only natural that he not understand her words, but a mouse, the dumb little creature, ran past his toes and met its end. 

He wuffed at the thing, then back to Winter Song. Again, at the pelt around her shoulders. 

Hunt? Maybe words would work? He'd heard others say it.

hhuurnt? that sounded kinda like it? He hoped it did.

Hhuurnt?

She was puzzled for a moment. But it soon came to her.

Hunt! She exclaimed in understanding, her tail dancing behind her. 

Yes! Let's hunt!

He stared at her for a moment, maw slightly agape, for two reasons. 

One, he actually said a word and she actually understood it. That wasn't something that he could say happened a lot. It made his heart flip and fall over and the slightest bit of a tail wag followed. 

Two, she was pretty, and that realization hit him like a full-force blow of a bear. 

Realizing that now was not the time to peer into her eyes as if they held his soul, he offered a play-bow and a series of barks that he intended to mean you pick! Anything you want, we can catch! 

Maybe he could catch something really special for her, and learn how to make up that cute little pelt that she wore. That'd be so cool!

Eyes glittering with both warmth and amusement, she watched his playful movement. 

Rabbit.. ? The first suggestion, followed by a semi-graceful hop to imitate that of the creature she'd offered. Or, perhaps a doe? Now, this one, she wasn't sure how to describe without word. 

A prance, perhaps?

She gave it a try, but ended up laughing at her own, poorly executed attempt.

Oooh! A deer! ruheer? he offered the breath-filled word. 

And to illustrate her description, he pranced as well. Tail held in the air and each leg moving in what could only be an imitation of grace. He gave a few skips, and even bent his head down and nudged the ground to imitate grazing. 

Then perked his head up, and looked around. Deer were very keen like that. 

After his little demonstration, he turned back to Winter Song. 

He'd gotten very good at charades, he thought.

She watched him in what she could only describe as both pure astonishment and awe.

He had done so much better than her! But she would be lying if she'd said she was at all offended.

Smiling widely, she nodded, her tail bouncing back and forth between both hind limbs.

They weren't far from the open fields now. With a glance in that direction, she huffed over her shoulder at him. Race you!

A brief declaration, before she did what she did best, and run, expectant of him to give chase.

She definitely got that, which made him happy in ways he couldn't describe. 

Fallen Sun did what he did best, and bowed before spurring off with his haunches after her, face to the wind and breeze rippling his coat like wildfire.

A deer pelt would be absolutely beautiful in contrast to her coat! it would keep her so warm! 

And if that wasn't suitable, he'd keep her warm himself.

A soft laugh rang through the trees, accompanied by the steady thrum of their racing feet. 

The wind felt pleasant — but the knowledge of his close presence behind her warmed insides in ways even the sun itself couldn't achieve!

If only she hadn't promised a hunt. She may have feigned fumbling just so that he would catch her again as he'd done the last time!

He caught up swiftly, reaching to tackle her and declare himself the winner of the race. Work could be fun, the sunset was discovering. 

If he but had a proper voice, his laughter would be more evident than that of a coyote yip-yapping into the night. Alas, it was not yet so. 

Yet.

As it happened, they had raced to the meadow, and of this, he was delighted. 

Perfect! Now they could hunt a doe!

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Very mild suggestion. I just couldn't help myself! :D

Rolling upon her back, she feigned offense that he would dare assume to claim triumph, and to tackle her this way. 

But in reality, she enjoyed every second. 

If only he might tackle her this way every day.

When she finally found her feet again, she glanced out toward the open meadow. It made for the perfect hunting spot, and she hoped that luck would find them and a doe would traipse near.

hmmmmm -

Scent rushed past him in a still breeze, tearing all manner of knowledge into the sky and daintily upon his eager nose. 

Grass, snow, cloud, tree, mouse, the distant crushing of snow by a fox hunting said mouse; hoof, hot, blood, bone. 

A low huff, nose angled sharply in the direction of the scent. 

There.

Her gaze followed the way of his nose.

There.

Yes—she saw it too.

Crouching low, she moved forward carefully, mindful of her steps. 

They would need to be closer to decide how to cage the creature and make the kill. And when she could see better, she would follow sunset's lead.

Like sunset's final light, he picked his way through the meadow's grasses. A wolf who could not hunt was doomed to die alone; this he believed was in all wolves. The instinct to take down prey was one no wolf could deny if hunger trod their belly.

Quiet, he kept each step calculated and calm, until the doe was in sight. She was beautiful! And it would be a worthy meal for moonpack, and a worthy pelt for Winter Song. 

If they could catch it. 

Their first hunt together. Like ma and da's, all that time ago.

He couldn't let her down.

They were close!

And, oh — she could see this would be a fine catch indeed.

Circling behind the grazing creature, she looked to sunset, gesturing onward.

Like any wolf larger than she—which was many—it would be easier for him to do more damage upon initial contact. So it only seemed right that she give chase, and join in once the doe was well within his grasp.

He stalked closer, like midnight clouds over moonlight; the deer reflected in forest-green eyes as if they were puddles on still days. 

Low to the ground he crept, silent- still! She was looking around, before lowering her head back down. 

Three.

Two.

One.

And the man put one paw in front of the other. Quicker, heart beginning to race. Closer, more anxious for it- come on, one good - 

jump through the grasses, a blur of reds and oranges. 

A toe on the ground as the deer struggled to keep her head up with a wolf at her neck.

She watched as sunset charged forward, then secured his teeth around the doe's neck.

Wasting no time, she matched his prior stride and met the creature's leg with her own teeth.

Tugging, dragging, pulling... she moved with feral eagerness, wanting to see it come tumbling to the ground so that a quick death could find it.

Foot finally managed to feel grass again. Sunset tugged and jumped upon the deer's neck, trying to force his way back on four paws. But the doe, although panicked and weakened, wasn't going to give up without a fight. 

That was fine.

Fallen Sun was young and strong, and Winter Song was helping! Yes, she was helping so very much! 

She loosened his grip with a thrashing of her head, and down the sunset fell - 

only to dive for her ankles to keep her from dragging Winter Song away entirely.

Sunset returned to the ground, and her attention was stolen for only a heartbeat. 

But the worry faded as soon as he regained a hold, this time on the doe's other ankle. 

Just a few more tugs of her own, and they soon brought it sprawling down to the ground together. The snow woman made quick work of rushing around to latch her teeth onto an already bloody throat, taking away life with a hard clamp, and then a forceful tear. 

More blood spilled, and Eira watched, triumph gleaming brightly in her eyes.

The doe was quickly felled! 

He saw her, from the corner of his eye. She did it! She did the bite that took life.

Fallen Sun was so proud of her, and he hoped one day, he'd remember this moment and tell her that. 

For now, he unclenched his jaw from her ankle and panted, fang stained red for a time and tongue lolling as air was drawn into his lungs.

From the doe carcass, to sunset, she glanced. 

Wagging her tail excitedly, she lifted her chin, then pranced toward him. 

We hunt well together. Yet another reason to solidify them as a potential match.

She was small, but strong. 

This, da would say, in his own way, as he told the litter about what to look for in a partner. It mattered not the size of the wolf, but the strength and determination. But one must assess that for themselves - a father must be strong to provide, a mother must be strong and determined to protect the children.

These, Winter Song had.

He wagged his tail and wuffed a Yea!