Honovi Pack Hunt (MOD hunt)

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A mottled golden wolf trotted up the hillside, his long, lanky legs quickly eating away at the ground beneath him. The sky overhead was slightly overcast, but at least it was not raining at the moment.  All around him, beautiful purple flowers bloomed. They were tall enough that, with enough stealth, a wolf might be able to stalk through them unseen. However, it would take skill and patience. As he crested the hill, Demetrios, Beta of the Honovi pack, surveyed the land before him. This would be a good place to observe his pack mates, as well as those looking to join the pack, in action.

His plan was simple. He himself did not plan on participating in the hunt. Instead, he planned on strictly observing. He wanted to know which wolves were natural leaders and which were followers. He wanted to see which wolves were light on their feet, which were agile, and which were ill suited for physical tasks. There would be a place for each wolf in the Honovi pack, but this hunt was one of several tests that would help him determine who would serve the pack best in what rank.

Demetrios did not howl, lest he startle the nearby prey. Rather, he lay down in the tall heather and waited quietly for his pack mates to join him. As he waited, he allowed his eyes to roam the land before him, searching for large prey worthy of a Pack Hunt.

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Torrent padded into the hills, they were low and smooth, not to mention covered in tall grass. He made his way through the heather, huge shoulders rolling as his head ducked down, sharp teal eyes wide and alert. Just then he smelled something ahead of him. No someone. The scent was gentle and familiar. Avalanche had beat him. Again.

Avalanche had trotted up the hill, her swirled coat blending quite well into the grasses. She had tracked Denetrios all the way up here. She wasn't entirely sure if he wanted them to meet up with him or wait for the others at the base of the hill. So, choosing to find him, she did so, and not to mention quickly and efficiently. Presently, Avalanche was padding along the crest of the hill towards the low form of Beta Demetrios. Now only a few wolf lengths away she spoke in a whisper. "Greetings Beta Demetrios." the cloudy sky cast a sort of gaze over her white fur, making it a dim silver. Her entire coat looked rather drab at this exact moment, but her eyes were still as bright as ever, if not more as a mist began to develop.

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Thornbush padded into sight. With his red fur and dark points, he was hard to miss. He flicked his tail, more then ready for the hunt. He had his tail low, and his poshtor that of a low ranking wolf. He did carry a regale air, though. Thornbush rolled over in submission at the sight of his beta. "Hi, Beta Demetrios." He said, getting back up. Thornbush hadn't bothered with grooming his fur in a while. So it was messy, but also slightly hid his sent. Thornbush wondered what they were hunting. If it was big, Thornbush was happy to help. Small, meh. He could hunt small things.

[Stormy May]

Dark, ringed paws stalked through the undergrowth, and ears were laid flat in worry. She had not seen any fellow Honovi wolves for ages, much less her own alphess. It had grown far too silent, and for a place that should be thriving, silence was terrifying. She advanced, pulling to the edge of the open, her patterned red coat like a bloodstain against the shadows. A soft wind rolled through, and just for a moment, she could smell them. Someone was here. Her ears stood erect, and she bolted out into the open, muscles working with the force of a brewing storm, following the smell of what she could not see.

She saw it before her as her short legs came to a halt. A small gathering of wolves, of Honovi wolves. A male stood before them, whose coat was of liquid gold and shadows and light all together. His posture demanded dominance.

Slowly, she moved towards them. Surely Treason had not fallen. It was an impossibility.

She gathered her shock and transformed it into words, directed at the wolf of gold. "I am Arcane, of Honovi myself. I believe I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting you, though I find it odd considering your authoritative stance." Outside, her composure was cool, steady, and smooth as a summer stream, but inside she was melting down. Something was very wrong.

——

His sister's words rang through his ears like a bell of sorrow. How did she put it, again? "Send Treason my regards for burdening her with you." Yes, something like that. And he'd brought it on himself, too. He'd turned her away, refused to accept her, so it's only fair that he'd deserve it. Her words had been like a bite in the throat, sharp-edged and stinging. Treason had given him a choice, pack or blood? And he'd made his choice. To save her? To spare her? No, he couldn't lie; it was to spare himself.

Mest made his way to the small gathering of wolves, daring to glance into Demetrios' sharp eyes, but his heart was too heavy to care. He simply nodded in his direction, somehow unable to find the motivation to give him a disgusted or sarcastic look or witty comment. He scanned around him: he was surrounded by new faces, one of which held a certain familiarity, though he couldn't quite place it.

Could he hunt in this condition? When his mind was so screwed up? Too late now, Demetrios knew he was here. It'd be cowardly to back down, now. That was the last thing he would do; look cowardly in front of Demetrios.

He cast the haunting image of Mist out of his mind. He had to focus, and prove he was worth something to this pack. It was his one goal besides finding... her.