Rising Sun Valley Fresh Meat… and it’s me

The bleating of the stag became background noise for now. Champage eyes was fast upon the two wolves before him—though his gaze swept over the she-wolf, studying the delicate features she held and the bi-toned eyes.

With a nod, she was off. And, his gaze followed after her, brows lifting as she dove back into the thicker brush—disappearing from view.

Akavir, slightly untrusting, still began to traipse to the right of the stag. He remained a fair distance away, waiting—testing the beast and if it would simply remain in a panic or if it would begin to bolt.

Waiting to see if the stranger would flush the beast toward him and his Beta—or if she had simply become too nervous and left before an antler found its way into her ribcage.