Lestan tan
Lykaon moved through the loam and the soil. Hunters grace, quiet as he walked. Yellow eyes on the horizon. The scent of fowl deep in his nose. He would find this elusive bird. He had been tracking it for more time than he normally liked. But it was wily.
Hunter and prey. They danced and learned. And he would win. Even if it took patience, time. But he was stopped short by the borders of a pack and he froze.
With a sigh he backed up. He settled to his haunches far enough away he would not be harmed. He was weary. He stared at the peaceful place. Perhaps it was time to find a home.
Lykaon moved through the loam and the soil. Hunters grace, quiet as he walked. Yellow eyes on the horizon. The scent of fowl deep in his nose. He would find this elusive bird. He had been tracking it for more time than he normally liked. But it was wily.
Hunter and prey. They danced and learned. And he would win. Even if it took patience, time. But he was stopped short by the borders of a pack and he froze.
With a sigh he backed up. He settled to his haunches far enough away he would not be harmed. He was weary. He stared at the peaceful place. Perhaps it was time to find a home.