A Sin of Her Own

Chapter 11

A bonfire with flames as tall as the pack cabin was lit around midday. Signalling one of the many hunts. Bright orange flames hovered high, producing heat as the temperatures started to drop. Tiny snowflakes fell from the sky. Winter ever closer.

The newcomers watched in fascination as the Duskfall pack emerged from the packhouse adorning different coloured war paint. Tribal swirls that made the sharp angles of their faces much more dangerous.

Twenty wolves split into four groups, each separated by the varying colours and patterns on their faces. Their Alpha was decorated in a fierce red followed by four others. Gath had purple spots around his eyes, framing his square jaw. Angus, much like his eyes, adorned a dull green and Eóghan, in contrast to Titania, had blue triangles and lines along his copper beard. 

Many wolves simply watched in wonder. Having not seen such a sight in their Human lives. Dressed in minimal clothing and covered in paint, these wild wolves looked like a joke but the darkness and coldness emanating from then proved no such thing. 

This was the traditional Duskfall hunting party.

The carnal hunger coming off these wolves made many watch in awe. As some scoffed, others looked on with admiration and respect for the wolves willing to risk their lives to hunt for their dinner. It was not uncommon that some perished on the rough lands and Mother Natures cruel temperament. 

Titania's lips tightened into a fine line at the ridicule. But flicked her raw eyes to the ones behind her who made a move forwards. She inclined her head and linker her warriors not to make a move on the sniggering wolves.

"Males, you will accompany us on this hunt as spectators. Tomorrow we'll take the females." Eyes widened. "You will watch on the sidelines while we hunt a herd of Bison to the North."

"You're not letting us hunt with you?" A male questioned, eyes narrowed.

"No. You have been on my land for three days, that is not enough time for you to have the endurance, stamina, and strength needed for a hunt. Especially against a Bison."

Alfonso stepped forward, "Bullshit."

Other mutters of displeasure sounded around him, also expressing their dislike to the situation. Alpha of the Lithuania pack, Filip also scrunched up his face.

She snapped her eyes to his, "You could manage a rabbit, perhaps a mouse but not much else. The truth hurts Alfonso."

"I hunt plenty on my own land to be able to tackle a Bison. I'm an Alpha." He replied as if that statement alone showcased his strength.

"And what do you hunt?" She cut him off. "Deer? Oh, that's not a challenge for us. In Scotland, we have Bears, Bison, Highland cows with horns, Rams and Reindeers. Each one of those can kill a wolf, no matter the strength so save me your egotistical Alpha male shit and let the wolves who know the land and have lived by these animals hunt how we have been for years."

Her voice stopped the sniggering in its tracks. "No follow and we'll show you how real hunting is done in the Highlands." 

The wolves behind split and took different entrances into the forest. Many shivered from the cold but the barely clad wolves trudged forward; desperate for some fresh meat. Desperate to let their inner wolves follow their natural intrinsic needs.

Following a trail that lead to a deep V-shaped valley, twenty minutes of running caused them to stop while the Duskfall pack split once again. Four groups stationed themselves at certain points in the land. Their wolves distinguishable by the tribal paint that marked their snouts. Each group had a job to do during the hunt and the pack had used this system to differentiate between each group. This equaled fewer casualties, less confusion, and less death. A win-win.