I am learning much in my travels around this new land. There are wolves nearly in every corner, some weak, some strong, and others hanging dangerously within the balance. But, the ones who intrigue me the most are those small ones – yearlings and younger pups – who seem to think it is okay to go wandering about the freelands as if they own them. I laugh, getting a kick out of their innocent plunders, coming across scents that have far too many wolves mixed in – and very few with only one or two others thrown in. I wonder how they get out without their parents or pack members knowing, perhaps they had simply grown comfortable thinking there were no threats out here for them. Best case scenario for me, teach them better. Worst case for them, the bears or cougars beat me to them. Though to be honest, the bears would give them quicker deaths, as would the cats. Maybe I am worst case scenario, funny how that turned around on itself, isn't it?
My recent wanderings have been giving me more than enough insight on the types of wolves that drift around the lands, but it simply isn't enough to spur me into action. I am bored, in need of a decent challenge, and yet no one seems to want to give me that chance. There is a flash of movement and my bright pink eyes dart to catch the source, but it is gone quick as a flash through the rocks. Hackles raise and a coldness sweeps into the hot bubble-gum depths of my gaze, white ears tilt back and flick forward as I listen for any movement ahead of me. I see the flash of white above one stone, and make my move, climbing the stone and placing my forty-two inch height on the very tip of the top, watching as a male over takes another wolf. He barrels into her, and for a moment I am stunned, to see another wolf use this tactic and to so blatantly attack another without any provocation seemed...familiar. Heat spreads through my frame as adrenaline pumps through my perfect body, and subconsciously, my tail waves for just a moment. I sit and watch the outcome of his attack, hoping the other wolf fights back and remains upright long enough for me to join the fray. There is no distinguishable weakness in the white male, his body speaking volumes of his strength as he springs away from the other stranger. The female though, I was unsure of. I suppose I could let them duke it out, and see which wolf would win, but where is the fun in that?
I make my presence known with a small sound, clearing my throat as I make my decent from the top of the rock, sliding coolly to the dueling pair. Interruption is a good distraction for any hunter, and from the looks of things, this male has attacked unprovoked. I remain silent, simply moving slowly toward them with the calm look of one who is well acquainted with death, and why shouldn't I? I have been down this road, and I am no stranger to the tactic the male uses, having won many a fight thanks to clever surprise and devious plan. I seat myself a few feet away from them, eyes glistening with a sick attachment. I wish to see the end of this squabble, I incline my head should either wolf deign to look at me, as a way to show the male he may continue his work. In this I am merely the ever present reaper, watching for the soul to leave the poor girl – or the male, should the tables turn. I like this male, though I have yet to even speak a word to him, or even bother myself with getting to know him, I like his style. My ears slide forward, as if pressing him to continue, eyes rapt on the form of the female. I will not intervene with what another has started, my presence here was simply to see if the girl has it in her to fight back, to protect herself. Though, should she shrink back or go doe, it will truly be the end of her. I see as much in the male already, a killer does not need promises to recognize another killer – or the danger he could present. A shiver of anticipation racks my frame, and eagerness to watch blood spill to the ground has my luxurious fur once again puffing outward.
”Speaking” Thinking 
