The wolf had stepped off of the pack lands for the afternoon, making his way outside the Valley for a change of scenery. Though he was completely loyal to Dax, to Bindi and their cause, lately life had been up in an uproar. Puppies of the alpha pair had made life a little louder and those within had been absolutely besotted.
Though Otaktay found joy in the young, he also knew that ones work could never be finished. It wasn't a luxury any wolf pack could afford, and as it was, despite the peace within the packlands, Otaktay needed to scout. He needed to see what else was out there, needed to hear to understand what other packs might someday afflict their lands. Word had it of a handful of fiersome wolves beginning their own packs - of an unstable and manipulative female, of crazies that lurked within the shadows.
It was best, he understood, to get acquainted with the surroundings. He'd return to his home as soon as he was satisfied with news. The grey and silver wolf stepped lightly over the snow ridden lands, his appearance similar to that of a phantom. There one minute, gone a flash, the seasoned and scarred wolf had seen his share of life. He was an older male, but had enough life and intelligence to prove that his years had served him well. He was no grampa, he was no fool, and his keen wit and intelligence burned through his sharp, green eyes.
He had followed his namesake well, "Kills Many" and had indeed taken much life and spilled blood on many occasions. Did he regret such actions? No. For that was the way the world worked - kill or be killed, and Otaktay always chose the former. He had his reasons, and that was reason enough.
Drifting through the underbrush, silent, practically unheard and unseen, the wolf dodged through the woods at a quick pace. His ears twisted and turned, his nose read the wind, and he kept himself sharp for whatever might lie ahead.
