Looking over to the red wolf again, I think back to the night of the conclave. I was just a bit loopy still, after giving birth, but I seem to remember him as one of those who had taken the Duskpaw's side in what was going down.
Even injured, he carried himself with that sort of fear inducing authority of an Alpha. His hybrid form was larger than most I'd seen in Helene's memory, though the white wolf beside me had an edge over him there.
Not that I'm smug about that or anything. Perhaps… a little.
However, the look in his dark-brown glowing eyes?
> Well, it's a shame she didn't finish him off then. It doesn't look like he has been making any better choices for himself or his people. Why is he even out here alone? <
The hunter was in bad shape, I realized. His left arm hung at an awkward angle, likely broken at some point in the struggle. When he peeked out and yelled another directed expletive, I see that blood had frozen in a crust along one side of his face.
