The tall, lean three year old picked his way through the reeds that choked the small outlet he waded in. His long earthen hued neck tipped forward and with mismatch green and yellow eyes on the water Seven searches for his next meal. Before they’d come back to Moladion the brown and silver brindled wolf had put his lankiness down to them always being on the move or even stress. Yet here they were - beginning into fall and still it seemed he’d gained no weight.

From what recollection he had of his late father Indus and from what he had gathered from Pan it was not all that unfeasible that he was destined to remain this way forever. Still it did not stop him from trying to gain the weight his brother held so easily. Already one plump fish lay dead on the sandy, grassy bank behind him and soon he would have another.

Dark brown legs don’t move or even so much as twitch as he stands in the clear blue water. Smaller fish dart by – and some bold ones even nibble on his ankles - but he wouldn’t waste the energy on them when he knew that something better would come along. Seven had learned that patience was rewarded. The smaller fish might look tasty to him but they looked tasty to the bigger fish to. If he bided his time enough a bigger fish would come – he just had to be patient.

Holding back a sigh so his breath doesn’t stir the water to much Seven wills a big fish to appear. The first fish had come fast. He had caught it almost the moment he’d stepped into the cool waters. But after catching that one the hunt for another good sized one had taken most of the day. His eyes had watched sun travel across the sky and even though it would be a while before it set he didn’t want to be here all day when his first prize was waiting for him just on shore.

Just as he decides to head for shore something silvery catches his eye and he stops before he even starts - eyes darting to the figure in the water. A mouthwatering morsel is slow ebbing in and it takes every ounce of will power for him to stop his dark brown tail from wagging excitedly behind his silver brindled haunches. However the proud smirk that crosses his face could not be helped – he would have two after all.

Not wanting his hard work to go to waste Seven takes his time before striking. There was no way he was going to get over eager and spoil this – he could only imagine what Pan would say. His black nose is just barely touching the surface of the water, he is close so to it. And when the fish finally does come closer even his faintly silver brindled sides cease to fill and move with air. Just when the larger fish goes to grab onto a tiny bottom dweller Seven makes his move shoving his muzzle into the water and snapping his canines through the scaly creature with calculated precision yanks his prize from the water triumphant as trails of moisture drip down his dark face.




"font"