Moladion had returned to normal. Matthias had left last summer as the heat forced prey to find other land with fresh foods. As a loner, the large male had left with them and had had a rather pleasant and easy time. Once again, the huge deer returned to the land of wolves and Matthias followed. The chilly spring was evidence of the harsh winter months. As the sun set, the gray wolf moved through the fields at an easy lope. His stomach was full of the young fawn he had just eaten, her blood still clinging to his lips. So far, life was good for the lone merc.

But a thought squirmed around in the back of his mind. As he moved, even now, he could feel the joins in his paws ache slightly. The hunt had taken much energy from him and he still felt fatigued even now. He grunted to himself, trying to shove the thought away. But it would not be silenced.

Matthias was getting old.

He could feel it every morning when he woke. He groaned as he rose first thing as his body argued with him. Soon, it would be harder for him to hunt for himself… Suddenly, he growled loudly, as if the action proved his wandering thoughts wrong. No, he still had many years before him. He was still strong and capable. Matthias was still a fighter.

With a snort, he continued on his way. Where he was going this night, he did not know, but once he got there, he would know. Perhaps it was a den, a pack, or even another wolf. Fate would decide and Matthias would follow. That was simply how life worked.