Vargr saw him come.

The boy had been standing amongst the trees with a clear view of the shore sprawling out before him. He had seen the distant spot growing closer, a dark dot bobbing about in the icy waves. His dark tail swished causally behind him as he watched with a smirk. His head tilted thoughtfully as he imagined the great waves eating the stranger up as it tried to make it to shore. The ocean did not claim the victim.

Vargr dropped his head briefly to take a bite out a bush that had miraculously endured the winter chill. He chewed lazily as he watched the yearling, with markings not dissimilar to his own, drag himself onto the beach and shake off the frigid remnants of the ocean. He didn’t know who this boy was, but he knew that he wasn’t supposed to be in the forest. With all the curiosity he could muster, he wondered why the colt was here. He wasn’t about to go over and ask, however.

No.

Vargr would rather watch and come to his own conclusions before confronting anyone. Had Gravewolf been here, he would have met him on the shore with questions galore while Vargr quietly seethed in the shadows. Dreadbite probably would have done the same, but sidled up close and batted her eyelasses a little. Vargr was glad his usual shadows were not with him today.

Keeping up wind to conceal his scent, Vargr shadowed the newcomer behind the cover of trees and shadows. He had the advantage here. He knew every nook and cranny of the forest. He knew where to step to keep his presence hidden while his yellow eyes studied what he could see of this strange colt. Just what was his game?

Finally, the unknown colt stopped and so too did Vargr. With his dark head low and white ears flicked back into te tangles of his mane, calculating eyes studied the other boy from the shadows. A bellow exited the stranger’s throat and Vargr’s expression twisted into a distasteful sneer. Fuck this guy, he thought, and sprung from his cover in a flurry of teeth and hooves but as silent as the wolf catching its prey.