There is a new shade in the trees -- slowly, the world around us changes once more into fall. Soon, the oceans will swell with storms and the change of seasons. It is something we must prepare for. Perhaps I am complacent in such a thing. I ought to hunt more for the pack, particularly if any of those within Glorall's territorial boundaries decide to bring more children into this world come winter. It is a difficult enough season, after all. There is much to do before the winter season and yet, for now, I am comfortable with resting. After all, I have been kept busy with my mother's children - my siblings, though I and Ayal seem unwilling to completely lend them such a title. It has been tiresome to feed her and ensure they remain safe by the outskirts of the territory. Nonetheless, they are old enough now to fend for themselves. Soon, however, I suppose I will be required to teach them to hunt, as I will do so with my own children. It is something I am... almost eager for. It should be interesting, at least, to gauge their perceptiveness and natural abilities in such a way. I haven't had a chance yet to decide wholeheartedly whether or not they should be allowed to continue on in this world. This will be a good opportunity to decide as such.
Though I may be resting, it does not appear that I will be alone this day. Indeed, there are paw steps overhead, muffled in the dirt but certainly approaching. For the time being, however, I choose to ignore them. Their timbre is familiar but, as usual, they will undoubtedly call if they are indeed seeking me.
It is not too long after such a thought that I hear the familiar clacking of wood against something stone-like, a tell tale sign that it is our hopeful Wildfire summoning me forth. It is then, too, that the smell of fresh blood begins to permeate the air. At first, I cannot help but lurch forward in anticipation, expecting her to be injured; then, however, I am aware of the avian flavour of such blood. I quickly compose myself, slipping from the den's mouth with practiced ease. I rest my eyes on her as I do so, motioning from her to the bird in due time however.
I pause for a moment, my eyes narrowing as I observe the intricacies of her expression. They are unusual. Her look is one I have no seen before and yet, it is all too similar to one that my brother - if I must call him that - Abel might conceive. A look of guilt, perhaps. Of some unspoken desperate desire. It makes my lip twitch up in amusement as I step forward, taking a place across from her as I relax into a more approachable posture. I speak simply, giving her all the time she needs to explain - a simple statement: