Blacktail Deer Plateau The Gathering of the Clouds

He would remember him, if only for the inexperience his age lent him. Not that Valtari was particularly one to talk—he had only left behind his adolescence with the spring thaw. It took restraint not to chase him then and there, to simply let himself run wild and snap away at retreating hocks. If he wanted to whine about savagery, then Valtari would show him it ideally.

He stewed in the meantime.

The wolves of Rusalka were still new to him, however they looked upon him. The uncertainty that Raleska would back him up kept him tethered with words burning on his tongue for just went the wolf had finally receded out of their view altogether. His gaze turned to Raleska, questioning: "Other than a waste of time, what do you make of him?"

Definitely not a friend or worth any more breath, but was he a contender for the winter ahead? The lack of prey was a concerning thing and with smoke still to blemish the sky he could not help but wonder after what other sorts may have been lurking just beyond their reach.