Dinner for Two? (Open)

[becuffin]

The salty tang of the ocean hadn’t been far from his dark nose for the past few weeks. By his reckoning, he had been travelling north, relatively parallel to the coast for what felt like a lifetime. His body was beginning to show the tolls of life as a loner, his coat was lacklustre and weathered, and his frame was slowly shedding the bulk it had held back home, his form slimming to merely sinew and fur. If he didn’t start eating properly soon, his body would begin to eat into his muscle for energy, and then he would be in real trouble.

The stocky black wolf was still a sight to behold. His deep set chest and burly build made him a wolf few chose to pick a fight with, and with good reason. He moved with the deadly grace of a trained fighter, even in his casual ground eating lope, heading towards what he was not sure. The only break in his dark coat was a few silver flecks about his face and his imposing, piercing golden eyes. Never really a talker, he did not miss conversation, but he did miss company. Being raised in a large family made the loneliness all the sharper, almost as sharp as the stabbing pang of hunger in his gut.

But there was hope. The scent of prey was on the breeze, and the plain before him was proving to be quiet the smorgasbord for a hungry wolf. If only he had a companion to help him pull down something larger. The scent of elk made his mouth water, but instead he lowered his head to seek out the slightly less challenging scent of rabbit. The trail was faint, but he tracked it none the less. If he could camp out near a warren he would be fine. He just had to keep telling himself he was going to be fine.

[Sonika]

She was up unusually early; the sun had yet to even descend completely, but Sonika had been unfortunately woken early with troubling dreams. Frowning, she pulled herself from her den, the entrance hidden away in a thicket of brambles. The thorns plucked at her fur as she squeezed out, they kept her fur relatively groomed, pulling out the obnoxious knots as she pulled free. Each morning she had to pluck her fur from the bramble bush, to keep her den hidden from others. She did not fancy the idea of wolves, or any other animal for that matter, snooping around her den while she was trying to sleep. Seldom was Sonika a people person as long as the sun was up. As mentioned before, it was quite a surprise that she was out this early. She sat lazily, watching as the sun descended into twilight. Perched unmoving atop a rock, and bathed in the silvery light, she appeared almost as a ghost; the only indication she was alive being the fiery gaze of her hazel eyes as she assessed the area.

The sharp cries of bats swooping above rang in her ears, though she filtered out the sound as she assessed the other night noises. A smile was brought to her lips at the sound of a yawn, and she focused on a near-by tree to spot a squirrel, insistently pushing her young back into the little hole in the tree. They would awake in the morning, for the night was no place for a mother squirrel. Predators only seemed to double at night, and with efficient hunters like the owl hooting near-by, the odds of that mother returning to her young were too slim to chance. Besides, one could find nuts in the day just as easily in the night. That did not say that there weren’t other squirrels gambling their lives on this night; Sonika listened to the death cries of one, followed quickly by the yips of a fox.

She blinked, her own stomach’s urges pushing her to action. Standing on sturdy, well muscled legs, Sonika gave another stretch, and slipped from her rocky perch and into the woods. She was headed to the plains, where finding prey was as easy as being spotted by it, making it a worthy challenge. The plains were better suited for sprinting wolves, not for a bulkier wolf such as herself, but they were also the best chance at finding prey better suited for only one wolf.

The tall grasses grazed along her sleek fur as the female lowered her head, keeping low to avoid being spotted by something that might point out her presence to others. Birds were horrible for it, though luckily most of them were asleep in the night hours. Even so, a deer’s tell-tale gaze could be the difference between her catching a meal or going hungry. Hares were only too keenly aware of their surroundings, for the ones worth catching had become world-weary and cynical. Young hares were easy catching, though hardly worth the effort in the end; they were better suited for morsels or snacks. Her ears twitched, and she sniffed silently, lifting her head slightly to gaze above the long grass.

A small herd of white-tailed deer were bedding down for the evening, though a buck with a formidable pair of horns remained on watch. There was also something else that had the female’s attention. It was a wolf. Her interest was piqued, and for a moment she was left debating hunting or searching out this other wolf. His breeze drifted down to her from the north, so she doubted he’d scented her yet. In the end, curiosity won out, though as she trotted towards the other wolf, she didn’t cease her search for food. Perhaps with his help, she could even bring down something more worthwhile.

The grass was becoming shorter as she moved north, it having been subject to the elements of wind more often the further she drifted from the trees. It would make hunting both a hindrance and a salvation, if only for the simple pleasure of sight it offered. Skimming the grass, Sonika sped on to a paced run, ears perked forwards, and her nose constantly twitching. The closer the scent became, the more she began to slow, especially when it smelled as though it were right upon her. She stopped, sniffing and making sure to cause just that extra little bit of noise, warning the other wolf to her presence. It was never a good idea to startle a wolf, or a pleasant greeting could quickly turn to a battle of strength.
”Greetings.” She called softly, parting through an odd patch of taller grass. There he was, the other wolf. He had a large black frame, and she could tell instantly that he was like her; strong. A formidable opponent, if they had the misfortunes of it coming to that.