Moonspear Like an old-fashioned soft meats crown

Someone he hasn't formally met would be awesome!

Dragomir careened at a gallop through the Netherwoods, hot on the fresh trail of a fox. There were many recent signs of its passing, from the winding scent trail to the occasional tuft of red fur snagged on a tree. There was no telling from here if it was worth expending energy on, but as winter drove on and the nights grew colder, Dragomir's hunger grew and grew. This was partially the result of the season, for even a sexually immature male could smell the women on the air and wonder at the stirring it provoked, but for him it was largely due to the long famine. It was time to get back to his roots: he began his life as an avid little hunter-to-be and he was eager to put his dormant skills into practice again.

He paused in a clearing to dip his head low and root through the snow. Plenty of tracks crisscrossed the area, so it took him a moment or two to locate the fox's trail again. Once he did, he was off, panting quietly and relishing the hot rush of excitement in his blood to be tracking and hunting actively.

Jarilo only meandered his way along, but a solid purpose kept him going forward all to the same result. He found it easy enough to lay low here in the cover of the woods--most days, anyway, and fresh fox tracks gave him something tangible to work on. With the season afoot, and his sister's words (all of them, her praise included) fresh in his head, he persisted, and held fast to his diligence in exchange for the grating nerves of restlessness.
 
That did not make him immune, however, and neither did this leave him in a perfect place. A functioning one, perhaps, but he was wound tight and feeling very distracted. His gait was shorter than usual, and he simply did not know how to feel.. let alone process it properly when his nose caught the faintest of whiffs and he had to be reminded of the whole overarching consequence once again. Irritating.

Still.. he angled into the fox's trail differently than Dragomir, and realized his thread through the woods more than anything so far. While not a fox, his hopes were far from dashed; the dark Ostrega drew in closer, though kept his motion going with a soft chuff to say hello on his way. He knew enough of what was going on here, and admittedly, the youth looked far more keen to the trek than he was--but that was good news. Jarilo tried to relax out his posture, swing his tail, and simply enough, suggest they make this a dual venture.

The trail was getting fresher, honestly, and he knew better than to underestimate Hydra's charge.

He wasn't expecting a hunting partner, but that didn't mean Dragomir didn't appreciate the streak of dark grey that joined him on the path. Jarilo was an enigma to the youngster, a wolf whose scent was prevalent upon the mountain but whose face was rarely seen. He didn't attend the border meetings that Hydra and Arcturus could often be found at. Jarilo's presence was more elusive, a silent sort of sentinel, and Dragomir was pleased to meet the cool blue-green of the Gamma's eyes at last.

A low whoof was all the acknowledgement he gave to the roan hunter at his side. They coursed through the trees for a little while, pausing at another crossroads, where Dragomir bent to snuffle at the ground. Right, I think, he suggested, handing the reins to Jarilo for now to guide their next actions. He was an amateur hunter, after all, and even if Jarilo wasn't a master of it, he was more experienced than the juvenile.

With each step, he sought to better his groove with this, all while learning what he could even anticipate. The foxes could get wily in these woods with all the opportunity at play, at least that he could guarantee. Experience kept him mindful of the twists, and turns, and hopefully they might not have to loose their game trail to the landscapes. Maybe, if they were lucky, very much the opposite. I think so too, he agreed, bobbing his head as he started for that way with a long-range look on as he tried to think ahead--into that beyond. Maybe it was too soon to make any assumptions of where precisely this may lead, so he went with the flow of it, for now.

He strided forward a bit more, then paused long enough to swing his nose towards the climb of the elevation towards their left, and ahead, some. Forest gets thicker up this way a little higher. Probably best if we can keep it from fleeing that way, he mentioned  for use ahead though he was well aware this was not always their call to make. They might not be able to pursue if the foxes found the right thicket, although winter did have matters more bare than usual. Still, he didn't want to risk crashing through anything he didn't have to. While to go before the creek, though, Jarilo pointed dead ahead for that one, right where he thought this might go roughly and where he aimed himself. Maybe it was a good thing, even if it wouldn't get to be the eventual destination. Anyway, he picked up his pace again and went on to work.

Off they went, following the fox's winding trail a distance through the trees before Jarilo slowed and pointed out the slope. Dragomir studied the slope and decided, following Jarilo's suggestion, to fan out in that direction. He remained close enough to see and hear his comrade, but far enough that he would hopefully be able to intercept any hopeful fox's path with greater ease.

Even though he wasn't the one directly following it now, Dragomir knew the scent of fox was getting stronger. Fresher. His heart thumped with anticipation. Whether they were able to catch it or not relied on their ability to drive it where they wanted it, along with a little bit of luck. And whether they caught it or not, Dragomir would learn from this experience.

He dropped his head level with his back and his normal prowl turned into a low-lying stalk as he swiftly followed Jarilo's lead.