veritasjusticia: Not my art, made by me (FullMoon)
He had been following the pack for some days now, in an attempt to guide them away from civilization and towards the relative safety of the woods. It was not easy, for the pack didn't always listen to his commands, but so far he'd been able to keep them from harm. But something had changed. They were on the hunt now, and had been for most of the day. He followed at a fair distance, not wishing to provoke the pack, yet needing to see what they were chasing. He drew closer only when they had started to split up, moving to surround their prey.

The smell of fear was almost overwhelming as he drew closer. He heard the river before he saw it, keeping cover in the bushes as he took in the situation. Suddenly, he was thankful he had followed. The encampment that was downstream was far enough from the river to avoid the water entirely, yet he understood the intent in camping there: he hadn't smelled the camper until now.

His eyes narrowed on the camper, surprised to see that beneath the cowl was a woman's face. A terrified woman. What was she doing out here in the middle of nowhere? More importantly, what was he going to do to keep her alive? She seemed all too aware of her situation, but she seemed to be doing nothing about it. Then again, what could she do?

From his spot in the bushes, he let out a warning growl, and the wolves nearest him immediately whimpered, drawing back away from him. They had grown to know him the past few days, and the ones not so high in the social structure had come to respect him. Those would be the easiest to deal with, he knew they wouldn't be the problem. No, the problem would be the alpha, who was presently making his way towards the woman, moving as quietly as he could from behind her.


veritasjusticia: Made by me (Default)

January 2012

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