Big Salmon Lake i imagine death so much, it feels more like a memory

his pursuit of the moonlit boy, his interlude with the naive, lovely girl — these things had engendered in merrick a deeper want for the marrow of the true prize, the sole event able to chase out the lingering cobwebs of indra’s death.
she had smelled of pack, he allowed himself to venture; surely by now they had found the strangled redfurred woman’s mouldering body.
the image conjured by such thoughts only confused merrick with their inability to satisfy him. hunter rose in the boy’s gorge; the scent of water drew him toward a swollen lake. 
not immediately noticing the man, merrick stepped into the shallows and began to drink. the last of his mother washed from his his chin with the gentle lapping, turning the waters ruddy; he peered at the fading color with a wan curiosity before lifting his muzzle to glance at the other wolf.
larger than he; scarred. heartstrings vibrating suddenly, merrick turned his gaze across the lake.
”you’re The Hunter,” came his hushed voice, soft with amazement and trilling along its edges with the anticipation of being recognized for who he was.