He stalks the young fawn, it's instincts telling it to stay low. He pounces, with a practiced ease, snapping the tiny creature's spine. He does not hunt for himself, he hunts for her, for his Fatality. He is not far from their shared den, choosing to hunt in the meadow closer to their home. As a dominant lone male, Maugrim has tolerated no other wolf nearby, chasing them away or killing them on sight. Females he almost always chased away, the swelling in their abdomens protecting them from his wrath. What good would it do him to extinguish the lives he could later consume? Males he ate, he ripped them apart, made them scream with terror, even the ones who appeared strong and challenging, he dispatched easily. In these territorial wars, Maugrim earned a face full of scars. His female was another reason for the scarring of his body, recently she has been more...moody than usual.

He moves back toward the den, his dark ears pricking at the sound of the painfully pleasured moan. He knows that sound, knows what the cause is, but what could be hurting her so? Quickly he moves with the paralyzed fawn in his jaws, gently holding the creature as it bleats for its mother in vain. He hears the muffled howl, and this causes him to growl protectively. Sickly green orbs search around the den sight, dark thoughts circling in his mind before he smells it. That bitter and metallic scent of birthing blood. Dropping the fawn, leaving it to try and drag its broken body away from the monster, Maugrim moves to the den. He does not care if she tries to attack him, announcing his presence with a chuffing growl. She wouldn't dare to raise against him, mother now or not she would not dare. His pupils dilate in the darkness of the den, black form moving forward slowly. He assesses the whelp, a strong male, and gives her a rough rasp of his tongue to clean the blood from her. He will be damned if this little pup is the one to make her bleed like this.

Erikur, he had heard barely, the name running through his mind three times before the syllables had been recognized. Still, Maugrim pays no mind to the pup, his mind occupied with the fountain he has created. He cleans her, trying to stop her bleeding the best way he knows. It is a rather touching moment, though surely she will not think of this. After he has her bleeding stopped, he gives her one last lick on her cheek, nipping gently down her spine, his paws gentle against the scarred ground as he heeds the pup's presence. He dips his black muzzle toward the pup, his eyes watching his Fatality in case she decide to rise against him. He will not harm the pup, his bloodstained lips coming to rest against the boy's back. ”Out of my Fatality. My son, Erikur, born of blood.” The longest sentence the male has spoken in the common tongue. So that she may understand. He moves then, retreating from the den as his work was done. He had checked on her, made sure the pup was strong, fixed her bleeding and now he moved back to the fawn.

It had managed to move several feet, and Maugrim simply went and undid all the hard work the poor creature had done. He picks it up once more, moving to the mouth of the den before tossing the young deer into the veritable lioness's den. ”For you. Eat.” He states it not as a request. He will not have what is his weakened by such a thing as a hard labor. He sits above her den, his dark form curled up in the shadows of the trees and brush. He has a new reason to guard, and a reason to be all the more fierce about guarding the area. He does not sleep this night, refuses to move even when his own stomach growls in hunger. He stays, watches, and keeps lookout for any animal that would cross. He would kill them all without hesitation, bears, coyotes, deer, wolves. Anything he did not care. Like a guard dog he makes sure nothing will threaten his mate and child. The black and white boy certainly looked enough like him, though he really didn't remember ever claiming her that way. Oh well, may he never know the truth, best the monster believe a lie.

"Speech!"