Lore
Winter had come early to the mountains this year, battering the persistent autumn into submission under a sheet of freezing rain and misting fog. It was a miserable way to try to hunt, but there was no helping it. Lore narrowed his luminous eyes in disdain at the storm. Thunder grumbled in rolling echoes against the rock faces of the cliffs around him, the branches of the tall spruces drooping under the weight of the accumulating ice. No, miserable didn’t even cover it. This was so much more than miserable.
At least luck had been somewhat on his side. When the storm had threatened, Lore had found a large white pine for shelter. It was old, this pine, the trunk rising nearly four feet off the ground, the boughs long and densely covered in its featherlike needles. It was doing a fantastic job at keeping him dry. Of course, he wasn’t going to be able to stay under here forever if he intended to bring back some food for the rest of the pack.
Lore’s ears pinned back and he huffed out a steamy sigh of disdain. He did NOT want to be caught in that. In a storm like this, the odds of him even finding something to hunt was abysmally low. If anything, it would take a miracle to find even the trace of a rabbit or squirrel. He wasn’t even a hunter! He was a scout. What did he know of hunting?! No. No, it was better to just wait the storm out. It would slow. Eventually.
Before he even had a chance to enjoy the smug satisfaction over his new plan, the sleet-laden branch above him shifted, dropping a sizeable amount of ice flakes onto his back with a wet slop. He yelped, “Alright, alright!” he growled to the tree. “I’m going!” He curled his lips back for a growl of disgust before trotting out into the freezing rain. Stupid rain for being wet. Stupid tree for getting him wet. Stupid Kodiak who had him out here in the middle of this stupid tree to hunt for stupid game that was stupidly not going to show up for his stupid hunting attempt.
As soon as he’d followed that train of thought, he felt guilty. His alpha was trying. The season for game hunting had been slim. The pack was desperate. Lore knew that Kodiak was worried. The pack’s territory was already small, most of the wolves aged. That was why he’d been asked to the pack anyway, wasn’t it? To scout and expand their lands? To offer the genetic material that Kodiak himself couldn’t provide for a strong future generation? Not that Kodiak liked to talk about it all that much, but it was the truth.
Lore sighed and moved into the ground eating lope of an experienced scout. He kept his eyes and nose alert as he ignored how soggy the rest of him was getting. Ice crystals were starting to form on the tips of his fur and he’d already lost feeling in his paws. Miserable indeed.
Ebony Jewelwing
Scout 
Scout