Shy Deer Steppes el camino

He had not stayed for the funeral.

Emilio had slipped from the heights unnoticed one night and had never looked back. With their small family splintered, there was little to stick around for - and he hardly considered the vampiress' fledgelings to be friends.

A cold wind buffeted his inky fur as he picked his way along the steppes towards where large, black birds circled the sky. His father had taught him that ravens often led a hungry wolf to food, though the creatures that swooped to peck on this carcass were ugly, long-necked things that looked nothing like the corvids he was used to. 

No matter, the goat would be his. A snarl ricocheted off the rocks as he charged the flock, snapping harshly at their wrinkled feet as they took off into the cool winter air and Emilio was left to scavenge what remained.

look. like the other wolf, evenfall watches the birds circle and follows their indication of food.

smell. he draws closer, and the scent of carrion tickles his nasal passages.

taste. saliva trickles from his mouth, but evenfall stops short. there is another wolf here. he is young, perhaps not yet a year, and this gives evenfall the advantage. he squares his shoulders and resumes his descent on the meal, circling around so he is visible to the other wolf, the meal between them. evenfall darts forward, yanking on a dead leg and pulling it free from the carcass, eyes locked on the other male.

He was not the only scavenger, it seemed.

A man approached, agouti grey and focused on stealing Emilio's meal. The yearling snarled again, prickling much like a porcupine - a warning for this stranger: this carcass was his.

But it was not enough to dissuade him. For whatever reason, be it hunger or a bold challenge, the boy was not having it. Guarding, aggressive, he lunged forward at the same time the circling wolf did, aiming to latch on and reclaim the freed leg.