Blackfeather Woods put your head on my shoulder

fwd dated to present day with permission

drawn from the rendezvous by the excited chatter of birds above, astara stole lik a rogue from her mother's eye, and disappeared into the shadowed grove in nimble steps. each day the expanse she explored widened; in solitude, the dark cub had learned to be brave. so far, nothing had tried to eat her.

a form ahead gave the cub cautious pause; she raised a paw to her chest and her muzzle extended in an unsure dip as she scented the air carefully. she did not recognize the wolf, but her curiosity of the birds overhead compelled her to throw caution to the wind and approach. she tried to remain silent, but her stealth skills were far from sharpened; a crunch underfoot betrayed her presence and the black youth froze with amethyst eyes trained on the stranger.