( Thanks. )
Two almost identical white pups rolled around in the weak winter sunlight outside the alpha den, as content as two young beings could be. Their father, a black wolf with sapphire blue eyes, passed by, a smile on his muzzle as he looked down to them. Pride was carried in every movement he made; from his purposeful gaze, directed straight ahead, and erect posture as he brought the hare clamped between his jaws into the den. The he-wolf, Wildfire, as he was called, slunk into the entrance and to the cool, weakly lit den. His pawsteps barely left ruts in the downy doe pelt as he padded towards his nest, dropping the hare in front of Zero. He then resumed his padding, towards his nest lined with tender moss and colorful pheasant feathers.