He danced over the rocks and gaps as if he were made to do so; some slippery snake twisting this way and that in graceful, fluid movement. How long had it been since he had been here? A year? But he felt that the reason had been good; he wanted to know that his children had a chance to be something better. To not crave the blood or flesh of another wolf. It was genetic for him, ingrained into who he was, since he had never been taught the craving; it had come naturally. It had been a terrible thing to live with, and still was. His kids deserved better, if they had escaped that fate. If nurture could win this one, he would be glad.

Yearlings would be who they were by now, and so Covet had come back to see if his leaving had done any good. If those pups had been normal. There had to be at least one among the bunch, right? He licked his lips, eyeing the blood thick down the fur of his throat and tasting the coppery-sweet stuff from his maw. The return had been true Covet-style, as he'd hunted down one of the weaker wolves he could find on his way back here. What was left? The faded scent of Malina and Rogue called to him, and he was picking up the pace to something swifter, more choppy in movement over the rocky terrain.

Blood. It was moth tempting and made him frantic, because it did not seem to be a quick wound to have bled this way. Not Malina's though, it seemed. He let out his breath in a great gust, then flopped down to where the dried blood smell was and rolled in it. Hell, there was the chance of luring Malina to him with it, was there not? Then he was up and off again at a odd jog. Let's see what the day would bring. He'd have to hunt down Fathom sometime, too, he supposed. Whichever trail he stumbled upon that seemed fresh enough to follow; he would. For now, he would circle around the places without pack borders. See how close he could get.

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[ male ] [ five ] [ loner ] [ ava; severed imprint ]