Tithe

The sun and the air around him pressed on him, lulling the wolf into a sense of security and peace. His tongue had even started to roll out of his maw. Ears flicked lazily when he heard something moving through the brush of the forest. For a moment he paid it no heed, not concerned if it did not bother him. The sounds grew faster and drew closer and it prickled his attention. Before the doe ran in front of him, Tithe had gotten to his paws and stood at attention. Hot on the prey’s heels, it was the grey wolf that caught the young male’s attention more than the fleeing food. A barking command was issued from aged to youth.

In his puppyhood, Tithe had been taught, trained even, to try to be perceptive of those around him. Learn on a flash, and react to what was around him at a moment’s notice. It had been drilled into his mind that you learn to adapt, or you die. It was one thing to stumble across another male and challenge them over food. It was a very different story to come across a stranger and welcome him into a hunt. The opportunity called to the young man, tugging at his desire to once again be a part of something or to fight for something.

He did not need to be told twice and seamlessly transformed into what he was, a pack man of honor. The other wolf had been nipping at the doe’s heels, keeping it running. Tithe loped forward and took up the task, allowing the other male to fall back and rest from his pursuit. He was careful to keep his own pace slow, to make sure the grey would keep up, but snapped at the doe in a way to make her panic and zig-zag. Best to lengthen her journey and keep theirs short. He panted happily, keeping up this game while he waited for Sleekwing to either jump in for the kill or give him a sign for their next move to finish off their target.