My nose led me on a merry run, following the intricate layers of scents left by the inhabitants of the forest. Panting, I stopped to drink from a wide, shallow stream that tumbled down a short ridge a little way downstream. The water was cold and pure like a glacier on my tongue.
The pool at the base of the waterfall looked perfect for playing in. Maybe my Alpha would enjoy it, too. I hadn't heard or smelled the Pack since they brought down their prey, yet they weren't far. Turning to climb back up the steep bank, a rust coloured wolf with black socks on his forelegs blocked the path.
I picked up her scent quickly, entwined with that of a squirrel. I soon discovered the carcass. From there, I barely need to track to the stream I heard in the distance to which she had beelined after her kill.
The smell that ghosted her steps lifted my upper lip in a snarl. A strange male with a sour undertone that seemed to coat my mouth with its taint. My hackles rose higher and higher as I silently raced to the river.
Bursting through the treeline, I only paused long enough to see that the male had backed the small female into the deepest part. She was obviously tiring from fighting the current and dodging her assailant. Hurtling down the embankment, I leapt between the rocks that broke the surface here and there. He met my spring attack with bared fangs.