New Fire

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He paused. Tendrils of pale steam drifted from Len's nostrils and maw, orange eyes scanning his surroundings as a droplet of blood fell from the deer's neck, down his jaw, and onto the white snow beneath him. Plowing his way through the snow once more, he continued to drag along his kill to the pack's territory. It'd been the biggest catch he'd had in a long while, and surely, this was more than enough to feed those within the pack. Len gave out a huff of air. And I've been stuck with the damn hunting. he thought, resentful and admittedly bitter.

Getting back to the pack hadn't taken him long as he expected, greeted by an array of smiles and his father, the lead of the pack. Len eyed his father as he approached, releasing his kill from his jaws since it seemed like he wanted to speak, and Len couldn't help but take on a look that matched his annoyance. Jesus, he always wanted to speak. Prepare yourself for gloating.

Seeing this, his father, Brox, gave a dry laugh. "What's up your ass?"

You, Len thought, though left the words unsaid. Brox always handed off his dirty work to Len, whether it be from scouting the area to hunting to settling general disputes among the pack - Brox hardly ever did anything, despite his high rank. "Nothing," Len replied. "Just tired." Len had only taken a step away from the corpse when something slammed into his side, the air rushing from his lungs as he stumbled to the side, and damn near lost his footing. Anger welled in his chest and Len pinned his ears flat to his skull. Looking to his side, he spotted a fae - presumably the one who'd ran into him - and gave her a warning snap. "Watch it," he snarled.

(Hey, hopefully this is okay. Openings are a weak point of mine for sure, hah... I know it's not very long, but I'm still piecing together his backstory and personality and all.)

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M i s h k a

The white and black fae sat in the corner of the camp, watching as a bunch of wolves ran past her repeatedly, not sending her a single glance. Mishka sighed and rolled her heavenly dark blue eyes, flattening her fluffy ears to her skull. "Loser!" A brute nearby called at her, smirking softly, his golden eyes burned into hers. Mishka stood up, glaring at the dark brown brute, her fur bristling. "Come over here and say it to my face!" She snapped, taking a step towards the brute. The brute, Silas, just snickered, before padding off with a couple of his friends.

Mishka padded out of camp, and down to the river bank where fish swam, cod to be specific. The stunning fae stared intently on one fish, and got read to strike, her muzzle just inches away from the water. She snapped her jaws, and the fish was locked firmly in her jaws, limp and bloody. Mishka smirked, and began eating the whopper, her hunger satisfied quickly. She heard her name being called, and new instantly that it was the alpha. She groaned, and raced up the hill.

She skidded to a stop, doing her best to avoid the brute, but slammed right into him, nearly losing her footing herself. Mishka heard his harsh words, and stood up straight, standing a bit shorter than the brute, only by a few inches. She sneered, and growled back. "You're pretty hard to miss anyway." She snarled back, glaring at the brute. It was Len, Brox's son. She recognized the popular brute.

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Len growled, then huffed out a curse or two beneath a breath. "Just ge-"

"Actually, Mishka, you picked a good time to stop on by," Brox interrupted, throwing a glance to his son before his gaze returned to Mishka. "Hunting is hard for a lone wolf to do, you know. Since they get tired and all." Len narrowed his eyes at his father, and couldn't help but wonder where the hell this was going. "So, I'd like you to start hunting with Len. Maybe then you could actually scrounge up some worthwhile meals for us all. It'd give him one less thing to complain about."

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Mishka was about to say something, but shut her mouth when Brox came by and started speaking. "But-" Mishka blurted, but quickly stopped, and sighed. There wasn't much arguing with the Alpha, and she glared up at Brox with her mesmerizing blue eyes. "Alright, sure. Let's go Lenny." She snickered, smirking at the brute before padding out of camp, and down the river bank. "Why don't we start at the hills? There's plenty of rabbit up there, and I've monitored many fawns that play up in the fields." Mishka suggested, looking over her shoulder at Len.

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Lenny, tsk. With his ears pressing to his skull, he padded alongside Mishka, sending the occasional resentful glance or two towards the fae's way. They rarely spoke, but perhaps that was because they never got along. Or they never got along because they rarely spoke. Whatever the case, he couldn't quite pinpoint how she was able to get on his nerves so easily and often. At her words, Len's ears lifted, but only in the slightest sense. "You've been monitoring fawns?" he asked. "Why?"

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Mishka turned her head, "well, I don't get spoken to at all unless it's insults, so I often spend my time away from the pack. The fawns come up here to play, and the older and weaker deer often come with them to keep watch," she explained, then smirked. "Easy prey, but large." Mishka added, then looked out over the hills, flicking her tail a couple times. Her dark blue eyes glanced at Len, "any suggestions on which we should go after, oh high and mighty?" she snorted, only joking the slightest bit.

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"Well, peasant," he replied, more ironic than anything, "Catching some deer at this oh-so-miraculous place you speak of would keep the pack's stomachs full." He narrowed his eyes and let out a breath through his nostrils. "And this will be over faster," he breathed quietly. He turned his gaze to Mishka and watched her for a moment, his tail flickering in agitation. "Lead the way."

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Mishka turned and smirked at him, "hey, at least you don't have your father on your back out here." she joked, then rotated her head back to look in front of her, then nodded. "Right.." Mishka growled, padding forward, her white and black fur ruffling in the cool Spring breeze. She stopped at the peak of the hill, and glanced down the hills, where a little stream rushed in the middle, and into a pond where fish swim. Mishka saw a few old does at the pond, with two fawns playing in the fields. "Alright Lenny, which do you want to go after first?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

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Len's calculating eyes surveyed the area, and it hadn't taken him long to decide on whom their first victim should be. "The old one with a limp," he started, cutting his gaze to the fae for a moment before inhaling, then exhaling, and returning his attention back to the deer. "She'll be slow. Easy prey." The deer hadn't seemed to have any evident injuries, but it hobbled on it's hind left leg as if it had at some point - whether it be from age or a wound from long ago.

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Mishka narrowed her eyes at the old doe, her dark blue eyes showing a dangerous gleam in them. "Alright, sounds good." She replied, then crouched low in the grass, stalking forward silently, almost like a tiger. Mishka approached the deer, breathing softly, and relaxed her muscles. She sprang forward, and clamped her jaws down on the doe's throat, a vicious snarl to go along with it, and held on until it went limp. Mishear dropped the doe from her jaws, and glared at it pitifully. "Not much to be proud of." She growled, then looked up at Len.

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Len scoffed. "Gets the job done, doesn't it?" His gaze lingered on the doe a moment longer before they lifted to Mishka. "It'll keep my dad off my back - our backs." Lowering his maw, he took the deer's neck inside his jaws and raised a brow at Mishka, flicking his head forward to gesture the job's done. He began to trudge ahead, but halted. He dropped the kill from his mouth. "Uhh... do you know how to get back?"

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Mishka ignored his first two comments, then pondered at his question. She looked around, wondering why she couldn't remember the way. "Usually I would, but," she lifted her nose, smelling the air, "the wind has shifted, and carried the scent away. All I smell is grass, and fresh meat." Mishka groaned, feeling like an idiot. She turned. "Well, we might as well try and find the camp." She said, then started padding forward.

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Len groaned before he bit into the deer's neck once more and began onward. He trailed after Mishka, the kill's blood a red path along the ground, his jaw tightening around its throat. Great idea, dad. Greeaat idea. We're lost.

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Mishka sighed, aimlessly padding forward as she was left in deep thought, her steely dark blue eyes glancing back at Len, then back in front of her. She swished her tail, and stopped dead in her tracks as she came to a gorge. And not just any gorge, but the place where her parents died saving her from a cougar. That's how Mishka got the mean on her right shoulder.

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Len's brows raised at Mishka's sudden stop, but it wasn't too long later when he too halted, in awe over the beauty of the area. Allowing the limp corpse to drop from his maw, he took a couple more steps forward. "Woah... It's beautiful here," he murmured, half to himself and half to Mishka. It'd been the first time he set foot in this place, and he wondered how he'd managed to miss it before. It was incredible.

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Mishka's mind clouded with memories that she barely heard Len, and blinked her gaze. "Yeah.. It sure is." She replied half heartedly, pinning her ears back, and looking down the gorge. "Okay, let's go now." She muttered to him.

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