Der padded slowly through the thick woods east of the Darkraven kingdom. The scent had grown faint. Rather than think this meant he was losing ground on his prey, though, he knew it to be caused by the artificial winds that blew every hour from the palace of Darkraven seated in the middle of Angelsprite Valley. It was a sign that the wise and powerful Darkraven family still ruled over the land, a sign the enemies of the elven family wanted desperately to banish, but had yet to find a successful way to do so.
But Der didn't care to retell the old story in his head. The Mystic Wolf was hot on the trail of his target. She had to have been counting on the faithful winds to blow away the scent enough to throw Der off. It hadn't worked. As Der continued to stalk his attention was caught, briefly, by the nearby presence of another. He paid little mind to it, though. He was the most threatening beast these woods had seen in centuries. Ironic, he realized, that he now walked those fabled woods in almost the exact same area, but that was also not something to concentrate on at the moment. For now, he simply hunted.
But Der didn't care to retell the old story in his head. The Mystic Wolf was hot on the trail of his target. She had to have been counting on the faithful winds to blow away the scent enough to throw Der off. It hadn't worked. As Der continued to stalk his attention was caught, briefly, by the nearby presence of another. He paid little mind to it, though. He was the most threatening beast these woods had seen in centuries. Ironic, he realized, that he now walked those fabled woods in almost the exact same area, but that was also not something to concentrate on at the moment. For now, he simply hunted.