Ravensblood Forest Falling too fast to prepare for this.

Over the next several days, Sirio keeps a low profile. Having somewhere consistent and safe to sleep does wonders. A few extra meals where he can safely hunt, or take from a cache, seem to help too. And his youth is always on his side, able to go without for longer and bounce back quickly. 

He likes the solitude. There doesn’t seem to be many wolves and those often keep to themselves, just as much as he. His lurking remains in the forest, finding s large felled tree to keep as home base. The fallen sequia provides enough. 

This day, however, he noted a somewhat familiar scent leading away from the territory. He only knows it by the markers laid on the borders as one of their own but as the days progressed, there’s something different about it. It pushes him to follow after it, seeking the trail of the woman he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what she looks like either but surely they’ll come together. 

The trail leads him to a forest with old markers. Except for the faint waft here and there, penetrating through an old barrier. He licks his lips, lowers his head, and keeps his distance as finally his prize comes into view and he savors the sight of her swollen form from afar.