Pack Hunt

Pack Hunt Territory

The forest is more of a scrubland than a flourishing greenwood. Trees are twisted and gnarled, though their canopies are reasonably full. Brush is thick; humans seldom travel out here. It's well off-the-beaten-path. There are game trails running under, around, and through bushes. A narrow creek only a handful of yards wide and maybe a half-a-yard deep cuts through the middle of the copse, creating a natural watering hole.

The ground is rocky and alternates between loosely packed scree and hard-packed earth. Erosion is at serious work. While the land is not dramatically hilly, it's not really flat, either. Between the knolls and the trees and the underbrush, there are lots of places to hide just about anything.

The full moon shines down from high above, turning the scrubland shades of silvery-coal color peculiar to this time of year, this time in the moon's cycle. Shadows are at once shortened and deepened. In a clearing, by the wide creek that runs through the center of the copse, the Pack has been called. It's a rare Open Hunt, where friends of the pack and others are encouraged, even expected to attend. And those that don't need to have a very good excuse.

Which is ironic, given Eli's notable absence. However, the Alpha actually does have a good excuse — not that there's really anyone around that's likely to question him.

Particularly not since the big black wolf that leads the hunt this night is his fierce and stalwart beta. Not too many are willing to get into Cinco's face about Eli, either. The man's loyalty is just about legendary.

Be that as it may, human personas have been left behind for now. Now is the time for wolves, and their counterparts.

The howl that called the pack was loud and long. Now that they've gathered, there's anticipation in the air. The best of the scent trackers begin to move out, followed by others, searching for the first whiff of their prey.


Not happy about being here, to say the least. Blood in the air isn't what draws the coyote, but rather, invitation offered, received, and it is one of the few times when a scowl actually appears upon Brett Coleman's face. It's shortlived, however, in the presence of Toby and ergo, Summer, and therefore, the invitation is.. accepted albeit not without some complaint.

Honesty, the coyote is thinking that perhaps chasing down an armadillo once the wolves catch prey scent is probably the best route to take. Holes. Armadillos, and if they're lucky, prairie dogs.. or the elusive Texas Prairie Chicken.

If they came across a roadrunner, that'd be way too cliche.

Seated off to the side, under a tree, coyote-Brett lifts a leg to give his side a quick scritch in rapid movement. No.. no fleas!

At the sound of movement, the male coyote regains his feet and yips in the midst of the howls..


Full moon rising, and Summer somehow convinced Brett to come with the Pack for a hunt. It's not as if he hasn't been out with them before, though in a completely unofficial capacity.

There is, in the back of her mind, the knowledge that he doesn't want to be here, but she's still happy that he came. It's not often that Summer and Toby run with the Pack these days, but such a call shouldn't be ignored.

The lithe female 'yote isn't far behind the male as he runs. She knows the wolves will be hunting larger prey, but that doesn't mean that some fun can't still be had. Maybe not as much as in the flatlands, but a nice run can still be a good time.

Summer doesn't make a noise as the howls begin, but behind the two 'yotes a loud roar can be heard as a gigantic grizzly emerges from some nearby bushes.

Why hello there, Toby.


One of the 'friends' of the pack is slowly moving towards where the howl came from to call the others to the area. Abbey pauses at the fringes of the area, the large red wolf lifts her head slightly, maw twitching as she snuffles out a moment as her pale gaze drifts over the area taking in who all may be here. Many here have not met the rouge wolf in her wolven form so she is unsure oh how any will react to her actually being here. Her tail lashes a few times, head lowered as she slowly starts to slip forward towards where the others are while doing her best to keep calm and relaxed.


It doesn't actually take all that long for the scent trackers to find signs of deer moving through the underbrush. Low barks and a couple of chuffs pass the message back. In the center of the pack, the black wolf that is Cinco, starts moving forward. The wolves know what they're doing. And, for tonight, the coyotes and bear are as much a part of them as any of the strange and familiar wolves. It's probably a good thing there aren't any naturalists around to see it.

Cinco's long lupine legs carry him easily forward, his own head down briefly to catch the scent himself. But his head comes back up, noting the whereabouts of the others — weres and shifters alike — so he knows how to redirect if necessary.




Thankfully, Brett already knows about the bear or it'd have given him a heart attack. Of course, it leaves Toby open to 'Ben' jokes later, but there are times when 'the look' is all that's needed to back down.

Once the hunt is underway, he can truly appreciate the humour in hoping there aren't any naturalists around; that had been mentioned when the lynx, wolf and two coyotes had gone prairie-dog whacking. It'd make any biologist shake their heads in confusion.

A couple more yips is given to make it seem as if he's 'all in', even though he does take the occasional look for something smaller. If, though, nothing is found before the deer? Coyote-Brett straightlegs and leaps into the air, bouncing.. and digs a quick hole, dirt flying everywhere. Burrows!


Careful, Brett! Toby might eat anyone that calls him 'Ben'. The Bear lets out another roar, and he's running off along with the wolves leaving the coyotes to eat his dust. If one thing can be said for Toby, he can definitely move quickly for a large lumbering bear.

Once everyone else is gone, Summer bolts after them. She gets partially there, then runs back to make sure Brett is following along. While there's no prairie dogs around, she does find something fun to toy with. A little armadillo gets in her path, and she stops to roll it toward the male 'yote.


The red wolf follows along at a slow pace, ears twitch forward and then back while she snuffles out at the scents around that area. Abbey pauses a moment and casts a glance towards the movement from a bear? She tilts her head, ears flicking forward and then back before she hears the calls from the other wolves and she turns and follows at a quick pace. The red wolf is careful though, the last thing she wants is to step on anyone's toes. The scent of deer is starting to get her attetnion and she quickens her forward pace.


There's small prey as much as large, to be sure. But the pack is far more focused on the larger. And why not? There are a lot of lupine bellies to feed. And wolves aren't small.

Neither's the bear.

It's funny, how the wolves split and merge around him, spreading out, letting him clear his own trail through the underbrush. When, near the edge of a larger clearing some distance along, several of the forward hunters find a small herd — no more than a handful of animals at best — lupine body-language changes and a few start to split off to circle and create a perimeter.

Chances are good they won't bring down more than one or two of the beasts tonight… and that's only if they're very, very lucky. There have been any number of hunts that started out promising, only to end badly on account of ill-fortune, bad timing, or superior running on the part of their prey. It's just the nature of things.

That doesn't make them any less hopeful.

Cinco slides forward. He's long and fast. He'll give good chase. Let some of the others flank.


From out of the hastily-dug burrow, a dirty face rises, followed by the rest of the male coyote. His eyes light up at the sight of a tucked up armadillo, and immediately, he takes off in advance of the lady-'yote's pass, heedless of the fanning wolves. Let them eat deer.. he, they, have a ball!

A ball!

Brett leaps into the air, straight-legged again as the curled up, terrified animal is passed to him, and with a swipe of a paw, the 'dillo rolls.. right into the path of an advancing wolf, missing Summer unless she speeds up for the intercept.

Ah heck..

Those things have very little sense of humour.. unless it's Leigh— then she's got the clue that this is -fun-, not.. 'oh dear, have to go pull a deer down..' drudge work.

Even the bear can see that?


Armadillo ball!

Summer spots the armadillo, and leaps into the air. Mid-way down she makes a quick bodily shift. Not something that comes easily for her, but as she lands, there is a wolf where she was. She bounces the armadillo toward Brett, runs along with the Pack a ways, and then starts back toward the 'yote. She's not yet changed back to her most comfortable form, but she will when she can safely get out of the way of the Pack.

The bear, stoically silent, wanders through the brush to get to the front end of the clearing. He'll let out a mighty growl when the wolves are all situated, trying to scatter the deer toward them.


Hunting is something the red wolf has gotten use to doing on her own, she's gotten lucky when able to bring down a deer. Though to do so it ment chasing the animals down over long distances, an it was on her own. Abbey flicks her ears forward as she catches the noises from other wolves about the deer and soon she is running. Paws slamming into the ground which kick up some dirt in the process as she races forward to try and get into the hunt more. While she is a large wolf running is something she isn't half bad at it.


Let the Coyotes play armadillo soccer. Frankly, it keeps them happy and out of the way of the larger animals. Cinco is just fine with this. Eli, should he ever arrive, might bite their tails for it, but the beta is more interested in deer. They want the rodent? They can have it. He wants venison.

His claws rake into the dirt as he runs, leaving deep marks in the dusty earth. Other members of the pack circle the flanks. As the black wolf, the red wolf, and their companions burst through the underbrush at the edge of the copse, the startled deer set to running and the chase is formally on.


Brett-'yote bounds with Summer-'yote for a few steps, pawing and tripping over the armadillo ball. But hey, it's fun.. and a 'yip' escapes as he briefly flounders. Quickly righting himself, Brett checks on where everyone else is, and the moment he hears the burst of movement in the underbrush and everything gives way to chase, he's more than happy to haul tail. Running— running is fun!

Running is great until— oh, hey! Ground hog! Let the wolves take on the deer and run it.. there's a groundhog that needs to be pounced; and while they're not much sport due to their less than speedy movement, it's still more fun..


Once Summer is running away from the group of wolves, she gives herself a moment or two to shift back to being a 'yote. While she doesn't mind the feel of being a wolf, she's not going to leave Brett being the lone coyote in the den of wolves. She's diving for the armadillo ball as he goes rushing off after the ground hog. She may just tease him about his attention span later on.

The bear lets out a loud growl as the deer come in his direction, sending at least one back toward the wolves that are chasing after them.


With the deer getting flushed and start running through the copse Abbey lifts her head to try and see which if any may be hurt. So far she is to far away. She races along with the other wolves, staying behind Cinco knowing better then to try and get around a lead wolf. The roar of the bear catches her attention without a problem and when a few of the deer turn around and start charging back to them she rumbles out slightly. Well.. This should be interesting..


There are none that are hurt. Not yet, anyway. But there's at least one youngling that's slower than the rest. It's not so far into season that they've grown to full adulthood. Of course, that also means the herd's more likely to protect it, but that's par for the course. Thus, one of the does slows as the faun races to keep up.

Wolves break from around the edge of the forest, beginning to close the circle around them, howling and yipping and barking to help frighten and disorient the creatures. The faun bleats in fear. Its mother bells her warning.

The bear racing at them, however, ahead of the wolves that give chase from behind, is something of a surprise, however. She's not quite sure what to do about that.


The flash of greyish and white fur as the figure reshapes itself into a 'more proper' form earns a bark of pleasure from the male 'yote, and after a couple more pawfuls of sand rise in the attempt to dig out the groundhog, he barks again, though this time at the hole in which he's made before him. It's a grand hole! A magnificent hole!

And.. he hasn't caught the animal burrowed within.


But— there's that armadillo again, and casting his head around, ears suddenly fully upraised, his snout in the air, he smells the deer.

There's a part that pulls at him, but a larger part of 'there are wolves.. and a bear.. not a hope in hell' comes into play. Coyotes are nothing if not intelligent regarding their chances on a kill…


They could shift into other forms if they wished, to help take down the larger prey. Summer would in a heartbeat were Eli here, but she's happy enough to stay back. Out of the killing.

Upon seeing the hole, the female 'yote starts to paw and dig at it too. If there is a critter still within, it will be found and toyed with.

While both the coyotes are distracted, the armadillo starts to wander away. Thankful that it's been left intact.

There is another growl of the grizzly that just rings out as it lumbers toward the two scared deer.


The red wolf catches sight of the younger deer that is slowing down the rest of the herd and she thinks that would be a good one to start with.. Not that Abbey is calling the shoots here of course. She moves along keeping pace with the rest of the wolves around her, the grizzly some distance away is caught sight of as well and she ponders which way, or which deer the bear might be going for.


The doe turns to face the grizzly. But, that leaves the faun wide open to wolf attack.

Cinco charges in with the rest of the hunters, barking and snapping. The doe kicks up, wanting to force the grizzly back, but caught by the need to keep the wolves at bay, too. The faun can only bleat. It rises up in imitation of its mother, but it's not nearly so effective.


Of course they can shift to other forms.. they're just that good. They simply choose not to; at least Brett had, and now that Summer's seen the 'error of her ways', so to speak, they're back on the same wave-length, wolf-length? 'yote-length?


Digging with a partner now is a great deal more fun than digging alone. Let the bar and the wolves work at the deer; there won't be much left anyway. Maybe, just maybe, later they'll swing back around after everyone's gone, if they so choose.

That's a big 'if'.

Dirt flies everywhere, now, and it's becoming easier to determine the length and nature of the burrow beneath coyote paws. Snapping at the air due to the scent rising from the hole, he backs up and barks..

Darn groundhog..


The bear rakes a claw toward the doe, not necessarily trying to make a killing blow, but to injure her enough to be easy prey for the Pack mates.

Summer, content enough to dig continuously, actually yips as her paw slips right into the burrow hole. Caught her by surprise that. Extracting it carefully, she drops her snout to the ground, trying to get a fix on where that rascally critter went.


Abbey is right there at the front as the others start to snap and growl out at the mother and fawn pair. The red wolf snaps out towards one of the fawn's legs as she is closer to it at the moment, still she knows very well that the deer can still do some damange, even more so now that they are in a corner so to speak. The coyotes have long been forgotten as her mind was on getting into the actual hunt.


The grizzly's blow is enough to injure and stun the mother. The red wolf's attack on the faun's flank breaks its leg. Add to it Cinco's similar attack and the closing of the rest of the pack… really, the animals don't have much chance. The pack will feast well, this night. Let the coyotes play as they will. At heart, they're all true to their own natures. And it's just as well.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License