Overture Downs The loner marches under a thousand eyes

SHadowheart trudged through the late winter snow, his fur keeping out the worst of the cold. However, the night air had a bite to it, which combined with a mild breeze to make him shiver slightly from winter's chill. But the cold on the outside was nothing compared to the cold, empty stomach that he unfortunately possesed. It had been over a week since his last meal, and the pangs of hunger were beginning to set in. Another wolf might have sought out a pack just for the benefits of a better food supply, as well as the companionship in the harsh winter. Indeed Shadowheart knew there were other packs in the area, he had come across a pack wolf after all. But he was too stubborn to think about trying to join one.

And although he didn't want to admit it, too afraid as well.

So he continued on, trying to focus on other things to take his mind of his hunger and his pain. He gazed skyward, seeing the stars through the occasional break in the cloud cover. The stars had always been a source of comfort for him. They had been a constant companion in a life full of broken ties. The stars had kept him sane, as he knew they would always be something he could count on to be there. They wouldn't leave or betray him. The dark male sighed lowly before tearing his gaze from the heavens, continuing his search for prey in the dark silence of the night.

As the daylight faded to violet and the violet faded to the charcoal of night, a slow ember of fire grew in Asteria's stomach. It burned away the lackluster gray of day, freeing the silverline stars - and in a way, freeing her. It was as if she were made for the night, not the daylight. It was in the light of the pallid orb that she felt utterly happy. It drenched the gray snow with its luster until it too became pure white, and it kissed away the brisk night air.

Asteria traipsed through the white powder, her mitts leaving their imprint each time her legs lifted to stride forwards. The fae kept her cranium low to the ground, her nose vying to find purchase on a single scent. Then, there it was, and yet it was not what she sought. The scent was that of another wolf, not of the prey she had been hoping to catch. Astra's paws began to move once more, but stopped. Perhaps conversation was not such a bad idea. Her azure optics scanned the horizion, catching on the obsidian figure against the backdrop of the navy night sky. She paused momentarily, making sure that the shape was in fact a wolf, before she acted upon the opportunity. A noise rose in her jowls, breaking through the stillness, a chuff of greeting to the other wolf.