Post by lily on Jan 9, 2012 0:49:00 GMT -6
River slipped through the Keli Field, her paws lightly touching the ground. She didn't race, but she didn't walk either. She kept at a good place, eager for a nice early morning run. The pack hadn't caught any large prey in the last couple weeks, and while they were able to catch squirrels and other smaller animals, River was hoping they could catch something bigger soon. Large animals kept them fed for a while, and eliminated the need to hunt for a couple weeks. A wolf not have to eat for at least a week, usually longer, if they caught an animal like a deer. But big animals were tricky. They required multiple wolves to bring it down. Which was why the pack often relied on catching smaller ones. But they sure were a treat.
As she ran along, a scent drifting towards her made her suddenly stop. Was it...? Yes, a herd of moose, not far off. River followed it, careful to keep quiet so as not to startle them. She crouched down low, staying hidden in the flowers and grasses. The scent grew stronger. She crept forward even more, and finally she spotted them. A group of at least 10, nibbling on the grass. She immiedietly looked for the weakest one. A large, full-grown, strong moose was nearly impossible to kill. Only the foolish tried to bring them down. Even a brave wolf knew it was to risky to try and kill one. It would fight, where as a weak one would just try to run.
Her eyes landed on a large, but slow moose. It looked to be old, and was limping a little. Perfect. If they caught it, the pack would be fed for weeks. Backing up a little, she gave a high-pitched howl, one that either didn't bother the mooses, or one their ears couldn't pick up. It was a howl her pack knew well. It was the call for a hunt, a call a wolf would make if they had found an animal to kill. She made the call three times, hoping enough of her pack was nearby to bring the moose down.
As she ran along, a scent drifting towards her made her suddenly stop. Was it...? Yes, a herd of moose, not far off. River followed it, careful to keep quiet so as not to startle them. She crouched down low, staying hidden in the flowers and grasses. The scent grew stronger. She crept forward even more, and finally she spotted them. A group of at least 10, nibbling on the grass. She immiedietly looked for the weakest one. A large, full-grown, strong moose was nearly impossible to kill. Only the foolish tried to bring them down. Even a brave wolf knew it was to risky to try and kill one. It would fight, where as a weak one would just try to run.
Her eyes landed on a large, but slow moose. It looked to be old, and was limping a little. Perfect. If they caught it, the pack would be fed for weeks. Backing up a little, she gave a high-pitched howl, one that either didn't bother the mooses, or one their ears couldn't pick up. It was a howl her pack knew well. It was the call for a hunt, a call a wolf would make if they had found an animal to kill. She made the call three times, hoping enough of her pack was nearby to bring the moose down.