Maron smirked at the sadness of the wolves surrounding him. They had obviously been greatly affected by this stranger's death, even the she-wolf who seemed to be unknown to the pack. He rolled his eyes, considering this a weakness, and slunk further into the depths of the bush. He crept around until he was positioned between two stones. He narrowed his eyes, silent and watching. When this pack was ready to go home, the brown male would follow and wait until he could take some of their prey that they likely had stashed up. This was how he was, how he lived; he stalked packs, took some of their prey, and then moved on.
(sorry if i don't reply much, time zones >>)