male 39 inches 183 pounds russet/black no home no imprint ariel!


Thirst was a tricky thing. It would sneak up on you quicker than any wolf could. There was a river nearby, Jago was certain. The smell of water was unmistakable. His lone den was on the opposite hill of the river in case of an overnight flooding, a smart tactic chosen by the red male. It would only take about ten minutes at a moderate pace to travel to drink his fill. It wasn’t a long trip, but it was definitely an effort. Jago rarely travelled from his den as he had no real reason to, but eating and drinking was definitely important. Usually, he would snag a meal close to the den and eat the melting snow from the ground for nourishment. He was not one for socializing unless it was absolutely needed. He didn’t want females to trail him right now and he certainly didn’t want to scuttle with another male and draw attention to himself. He was a silent killer, lurking in the shadows, waiting to attack when his prey least expected it. Perhaps he would challenge an alpha for a territory in the future, or maybe he would assassinate one instead of petty fighting. The thought made him chuckle.

He decided to leave his temporary den now, making his way downhill towards the river and keeping a sharp ear out for anything ambushing him from behind. Steps were light now as he loped quickly down the covered hill and onto the main trail that had been made by many others. The trail, now covered in a few inches of water was very difficult to navigate. With the wrong footing he could easily turn his ankle or break his leg in a pitfall.

The smell was none other than a carcass of a deer that had been left there for many days and nights, half in the river overflow and half out with dried blood upon the ground. The smell was putrid and he had wondered why the carcass had been left here. This was an unusual site for a land full of wolves and briefly he wondered. Maybe there was a break-out of some sort of disease he had never heard of or maybe it was simply lost being this close to the river. Perhaps it had washed up from upstream, which was very possible due to the flooding that had happened days before. Jago stepped toward the deer, his paws splashing in the muddy waters, ears pricked back and nose at the ready to smell any oncoming threat or owner of the deer. The small game in Taviora was not doing him justice. He went in with teeth bared and ripped the muscle from the hind leg of the deer. The meat, still warm from the spring sun but kept well by the water, was not as bad as it had smelled. It was a risk he was willing to take to keep from having to waste energy on small rodents and the rare bird he happened to catch.

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