NIGHT HUNT

Fortune soon smiled on him as he soon picked on the trail of a deer within a quarter mile westward further down the sloppy ridges to his left while running in no particular direction. He stopped immediately on his track and sniffed the air thrice to confirm if his instinct was accurate. The scent of the deer was waning off by the minute and luckily, the other werewolves were not close by as he had thought they would. He soon realize that he had gotten lost and had strayed off the right track in the mountains but at that moment, all he cared about was to catch this prey whose scent he had come across by chance thanks to his persistent effort in scouring the woods for a kill that would certify his entry into the pack, at least for this ritual.