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The moon had ended it's reign over the sky just as its brother raises to power. With it, the morning mist had consumed most of the woods while those who lived there slumbered. However, paws shuffled through the cloak of the mist, hoping to find a poor soul too deep in sleep to feel the life-rending fangs. It was one of the few times that the inky wolf had left the Redwoods, the dilapidated forest to the east, but baser instincts were slowly taking over his own actions. It was of late that he had left his partner behind in the Kell Woods. Food had taken priority as well as finding his own shelters around the woods, not to mention the constant guard he had taken among his temporary territory.

He watched as a small burrow appeared as he passed, the mist parting behind him. A burrow would assume a living creature inside. Which meant he did not hide himself too well from this hunter. The ivory skull disguised and hid his face from the world and would be the last thing most saw before parting this world. They say death takes upon the form of what most fear, and many fear what they will become once they die. With a snarl, the wolf's head plunged deep into the hole and a scream split the morning silence.

The ebony wolf licked his pearl-white fangs, yet the remnant stains on his muzzle did very little to disguise the deed he had done. The ravaged skeleton before him laid bare after the attack and the forest was down another rabbit. Haunt rolled tensed shoulders as the sun's light pressed upon the morning mist, clearing the forest for the day to come. With the sun's light came the lack of shadows that he used to stalk these woods. With a dark coat, hunting came easy with the natural darkness, and when hunting alone, he noted a higher rate of success. Probably because everyone else would ******** things over and the prey would get away. A low growl emitted from his chest as he turned to head back to the pack.

The pack that he had joined was... a minor annoyance in his day to day life, but a shelter was a shelter. Though he often wander away from the pack to be on his own. Yet, he had noted many of the members of the pack; which seemed the weakest, the strongest, weak willed, and those who posed potential problems. Being the first pack he had stayed for longer than a fortnight, he did not feel the instinct to conform to the structure of the pack just yet...

Haunt stopped in his steps, thinking about his past. A vulnerability he did not care to admit among the members of the pack. Shutting icy eyes, his mind flooded with memories of a younger wolf.

He'll find him. Eventually.

With a scoff, the wolf headed toward the river to cleanse his tattered cloth and helm of the morning slaughter.

Haunt looked down at his soaked cloth, laid flat by the river bank. The sun should warm it up a bit, but given that it was morning, the coolness that came with it was going to prolong the dessication. A soft sigh rattled within his skull mask as he sat down, waiting patiently. Still a newcomer, he did not know exactly what everyone did at certain times of the day, but so far, he was able to do much on his own with very little heckle. That he was appreciative for.

Closing his eyes, he thought back to his past at the Redwood, where his lone friend was left behind. An argument sparked the separation of the two and the duo had split up. It was not long after that that some foolish female had recruited him to a pack of fire. Didn't quite understood what fire was but the simple warmth it brought with it after a thunderstorm to an unfortunate tree. Yet, while most may see fire as vibrant and life giving, he still continues to see it as a cold, destructive force. Often seeing it as blue when he grew tired.

Rolling his shoulders, he noted there was a presence in an area he was familiar with. Though, it was a presence he did not particularly care for beside the fact what it offered him during certain times of the seasons. Haunt chuffed at the notion and continued to appear... 'oblivious'.