only this and nothing more

The iron smell of blood leaked from him and so did it's crimson flare drip from a partially parted maw.
A fresh kill, a successful hunt, of a younger beast. Though the season gave it plenty of time, and the winter near arrives, the man of night was quick in precision to take a young one down before the cold.

It's blood was to be quick to attracting friends and, while alone, Erebus wasn't interested in dragging it through the hills and back to the Everfrost.

Erebus held a strong passion for the hunt. Among all the dealings of being a possible future leader, a husband, the son of a chief- there was one thing that didn't rely on the diplomatic. Hunting.
While his brother most excelled in efforts of fighting, and skilled in battle, Erebus found himself making grand strides in hunting.

For him to hold a life in the balance. The snap of legs as they burst off from readied positions like rubber bands or arrows loosed from a bow.
And of course the killing of the animal.
Whatever that animal was.
The man always dreamed to attend a hunt where a sun child was the prey in mind. A beautiful tradition, crafted by the man's own grandmother. What a wicked woman that Arachnie was.

Perhaps Erebus would bring life back to that old tradition, if leadership was, in fact, still in his cards to play.

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---

Everything was unfamiliar to him here, even though he managed to deal well enough, the courts of a ranch were what the wolfdog knew best and something as vast and rolling and seemingly neverending as the mountains brought him to wandering for lengthy treks, his pace steady and slow so that he never really tired and merely settled in intermittent bursts to lap up drinks from still-water puddles and capture a small, fat rodent of a thing here and there; he'd never learned to catch anything of notable size, never had to, and so it was that as the wolfdog crested one of the smaller slant hills that unfolded, dotted by rocks and shrubs and thorns he caught on his forelegs at times, Nikolai caught the scent of blood on the wind—fresh and hot and unfortunately tantalizing, he came to a stop with a heavy breath in his chest and took a once-over of his surroundings to find the curious source of what cramped his gut.

---

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There was a figure that blotted his vision of the horizon and hill. He squinted, the night obscuring most of their color and form.
"Hello there!" He barked after them in an inviting and friendly way, hoping they would come down and make use of the meal he had just caught. Eyes too big for his stomach.

From what Erebus could tell from the distance, they only slightly resembled a wolf. Something similar to that little Nikita girl he had met before, just off of wolf. Perhaps his eyes played with him.

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---

His head snapped to the bark, overly enthusiastic for the sort of hospitality he'd come to expect of the true wolves he met around here, a welcome change of pace he met with a twitching nose. Ah, he thought, quickly finding the source of his ails and the cure all in one place: in the maw of a male staring up at him. "Aye there!" Nikolai said, front paws adjusting to maintain his stance, nails cutting against rock and chipping off moss. "Ya' need help haulin' that thing, do ya'?"

The lack of any promise to share in the spoils failed to strike him, adopting how he once treated those in his band when he walked the ranch instead of the jagged mountains.

---

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Their form came better into view and Erebus squinted at the white plume in his chest. A predominant appearance that spoke not of wolf (at least not in the majority) eased his mind.
Erebus threw his head to the side and tossed his paw up. "Nah, it's not worth the effort."

He looked down at his feet. The carcass of a adolescent mule deer below him. Cut right before it's prime. The man smiled.
"You're welcome to it, though. I've already had my fill." So much was obvious, blood still clung to his maw. Slowly but surely drying to his chin.

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"Ya' must call that an easy catch then, aye?" Nikolai offered, a subtle chuckle working beneath his words. When he neared the wolf, his first instinct was to sniff at the coppery fur blowing in the wind. He flicked an ear. The man was built like a brute and yet the wolfdog remained to look down on him, broad shoulders making him look all the larger. At that, he glanced at the wolf, "Say, ya' go an' take this down all by yerself?"

It wasn't accusatory or judgmental, odd curiosity at the ability to do such a thing on one's own remained nothing short of compelling.

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Erebus chuckled bashfully. "Any Tenebris boy worth his weight in salt can." He smiled as he spoke, the beast friendly. Especially as he had only woke up a small while before, so he was well rested and chipper. The moon beginning it's slow walk across the sky, and the sun creeping down for his rest. The only time of day where both gods looked upon the sky.

All the men of his family with lithe, just small enough for the weight of muscle to not slow them down, and their pelts as black as pitch. They were all excellent hunters, there was not a wolf between them that couldn't at least hunt a rabbit.
The dark raven looked over the stranger with a curious eye. "So what are you, if you don't mind me asking?" His tone wasn't judgemental by any means, simply equally curious. This man before him with his strange accent and enormous stature. His muzzle wasn't as keen or skinny as Erebus', either. Besides, the question would ignite a wonderful bit of table-talk, if this beast decided that he was hungry.

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Nikolai chuckled, nodding along as the wolf spoke—Nikolai had little knowledge of his lineage, less of the names, but wolves were... curious creatures, so he presumed his lack of understanding derived from his doggish nature. "Then y'all eat mighty good," he said, a smile on his face to accompany the rather light undertone of this meeting. From the looks of the other, this wolf did eat good and smelt of his latest kill that urged a growl to Nikolai's stomach.

He stepped closer, tail flicking, he took the man up on his offer and hunkered low, grunting a thanks as he dug in. "What am I? Ah... Ah, I'm 'ere?" said Nikolai, chewing his bite rather wolfishly. It clicked. "Oh... what am I? Somethin' half 'xotic they'd said, uhm, dogs meant to tussle bears an' all..."
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Erebus smiled, nodding in agreement to his statement. It was true, they did eat good. There was never a time a Tenebris family member (or member of any of the other close families) experienced hunger. It was a saving grace for all the black wolves of the guild. They never did starve or dehydrate their people. At least they were benevolent in that way.

His eyes closed briefly as he gave what looked like a curtsy or bow with his head alone. A way to communicate a "you're welcome" without having to actually say it.

He made an audible "ah" when he heard 'dogs.' It was a word (and a species) that he had only learned about here, in canis. They weren't anywhere near his home, or the mountain. Though, it's not to say they didn't exist, more that they were yet to be discovered, perhaps.
The man's orange eyes widened with a pleasant surprise. "Tussle bears?" There was a child-like glee on his face then. "Have you ever fought a bear yourself?" If he was curious about this one before, he was now invested. The wolves of his sect and caliber were powerful, but would opt to avoid a bear if they could. There were a few bear-hunts that came about, and when they did whole bands and parties would be formed. It was like fighting a monster, less a regular beast.

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