the order of the world is disorder

The dull hued brute relished the feel of spongie loam beneath his white edged pads, taking in the perfume of the evergreens with each deep breath around the woodchuck caught securely within his jaws. The forest scents overpowered the blood and fur of his prey, sweet and colorful upon on his tongue, carrying with it the cold air of winter that bit into his nostrils and throat with tiny blades of ice. They cut him raw enough to cause him to cough lightly through his mouthful, expelling warm puffs of steam from his black nostrils upwards into the green boughs just beginning to come alive under the pastel blue sky so very far above.

Back on the earth, his exterior could barely feel the chilled morning temperature. Brahm's thick coat shielded him from the brunt of what the gentle breeze carried across his dark tipped hairs. Still, the large wolf could not help but yearn for the bright touch of cold against his skin. Where it touched his exposed nose and softly curled lips it tingled along the moist surfaces and he wished he could feel it race down his black spine in a similar fashion. It was such a childish desire he could not push down for the life of him. He gave a curt shake of his broad skull in a vain attempt to scatter the thoughts once more and instead focus upon the reason he had left the outskirts of the woodland; to find a safe, comfortable place to tear into the plumo groundhog that still swayed gently in his strong jaws.

Brahm had been lucky enough to even find an occupied den, stumbling upon it almost accidentally after following a nearly dead trail in the hope of filling his still growling belly. The arduous task of tearing into the cold earth had been well worth the work, rewarding him with a meal he had quickly dispatched and carried into the dense cover of Enocra with all the haste of a fleeing rabbit. It had taken him too long to risk fighting another hungry loner over, especially with his knowledge of the wolves here being so limited and the threat of underestimating them ever present.

These very thoughts coupled with the sound of pawsteps caused the brute to flinch, fur puffing up defensively in response to the other's presence.

But, the muted ache within his thick limbs and the soft rumble in his abdomen reminded him that fighting may not be the very best option this morning. His head turned with reluctance well hidden and jaw tightly clenched around the rapidly cooling body, an attentive, almost polite tilt of his barred ears and tense, low tail greeting the stranger.