Root is hesitant to leave the safety of the pack lands but she knows they can’t live in fear. She hadn’t been here when Mordacai had been attacked, she hadn’t been directly involved or effected by the cougar but it lingers in the back of her mind. When she should be focusing on the task at hand, she splits half her attention on keeping tuned in to her surroundings. Her ears are cupped forward, half listening for movement that might come out of no where and her nose searches for faint traces of the feline, but as well as a herd she spotted days prior when she joined her new home. The fact they were the only pack in his quadrant made her believe it still lingered in what little safety they had with a myriad of wolves surrounding them.
When she steps out into an opening, a set of stone to her right, she feels a little wave of relief. Should anyone approach her, she will see them coming. If she has enough distance, she can run. She’s fast—maybe she wouldn’t outrun a cougar—but with enough distance she can find enough safety, call for her pack mates, but for the moment it’s empty. The herd she spotted several days ago isn’t even around, but their scent is still present. It’s not fresh but if she can try and track it, she might just be able to find them.
Prints followed Bastien, the weight of his worries imprinted softly in the small layer of snow. The sharp smell of a pack lingered in the air, though the suns and moons had faded its threatening state. The pack it belonged to was gone...but not far. The male knew the area enough. They weren't gone. They would be back. But it was that thought alone that made his heart race ever so slightly. He wanted to head uphill and make his way to the wind, a high spot where he could see the world...and its dangers.
His ears perked as he padded cautiously through the claimed area. Every noise that came to him made him jump. A pack of cougars is no joke for a lone wolf. A pack of any sort is no joke, even. The male never knew where he was going, and didn't always know where he was. But that was the love of the loner. It was the unspoken rule. Forward was the only thing you needed.
His goal was the prairie ahead, but it would take him quite a while to traverse. And in order to get there he had to climb the rocky flats that separated the plains and the prairies. Knowing his luck he would need to rest at the flats before moving forward. Bastien wasn't one who liked to sit around and wait for a better moment to travel. It was growing colder faster, and the sky clouded over him in dull colors. It would only get colder.
The clearing before him stretched for what seemed forever, but at the end of his vision he could see a rocky face forming, growing taller as he approached. And taller...taller still. A strong gust blew his way, his nostrils flared and his eyes burrow. With a sudden halt, he front legs bent, eyes searching the flats. From above he could see just the tiniest flicker of movement. A tan or brown figure moved swiftly. It was headed his way, but if they kept their directions they would pass each other. He closed his eyes and lifted his nose, sniffing the air carefully. It was alone...wolf...female. Was she was headed for the scent of the cougars...Surely not...and surely not alone.
The male stood motionless briefly before letting out a howl, resting back on his haunches. The tone of his call was undeniably neutral. Bastien changed his course, heading slowly but cautiously in the direction of the figure.
Root notices the figure before she hears the howl, watching carefully as he begins to move. Her ears cup forward, attentive, but her own motion has come to a complete halt. She scans the area behind him, waiting for another figure to show up but when nothing happens and, instead, a call is made, Root is hesitant to keep going. The call doesn’t appear to be a threat and it causes the other wolf to approach, slowly, and eventually she can begin to see the features the other has. His fur similar to her own, able to hide himself easily in the early spring and late fall, but in winter he sticks out like a sore thumb—much like her own pelt.
He continues to move and Root hasn’t budged an inch, hesitant to engage. She came out here to follow a scent of a moving herd that has been passing by the south of her land, not to socialize. He is likely to slow her down more than help her and she takes a few steps in her original direction but she stops a few feet off to the side.
If the herd ends up too far from Lost Creek Hollow, it would do her no good to keep tracking. Root isn’t sure she can convince her pack mates to come out this far for a kill that isn’t guaranteed, given there is no promise they would be successful. Her jaw tightens and she swings her nose to see the other still moving, slowly coming into view a lot clearer than before. Root doesn’t continue to move then, turning her body to face the stranger. She barks her greeting, jerking her head so she could get the other to follow her as an idea settles in the back of her mind.
Root turns, galloping a few feet where she’d been going, then turning back to see if the other decided he was curious enough to follow.
The movements of the she-wolf ahead gave Bastien a clear indication she too was harmless. Her hesitation to keep going did not go noticed by the brute. He still watched her cautiously as he made his way closer and closer. Soon he had reached her, his ears twitched as she gave a bark and jolted off in the direction she was once going. Bastien picked up his pace to follow her lead, quickly coming up from behind her and to the side. He kept enough distance to make both himself and the stranger within a comfortable level. He quickly realized she was indeed following the scent of the herd that had come through earlier.
"I just came through from the south. They won't be in that direction." He had hoped this tidbit of information would not only help her, but also free him of any malicious suspensions.
"Do you mind...?" He hesitated with this question. It was implied that he wished to join. This was not his right to hunt alongside another he did not know in an area he had no claim over. He was intruding on a hunt and didn't even know how many mouths there were expecting a good outcome from it. The brute had to eat just as well though, whether it turned to bite him or not was another story. Bastien was a well seasoned tracker, though his hunting skills were less sought after. He was more experienced in small animal and bird hunting. "I'm a fair tracker."
He would admit to himself that the deer wasn't the only thing on his mind. Is either of them encountered the feline...well...he wouldn't make it out alone.
Root stops head in her tracks when he informs here where he’d come from, that the herd wasn’t where she’d last seen them. She narrows her eyes, looking to her left, then right, before glancing at the sky and feeling the slight wind roll over her thickened winter coat. It would have been easy if they’d remained on her expected trajectory but the wolf told her otherwise. Unless he’s lying. She turns, facing him with eyes narrowed hard.
She doesn’t stay like that for long as he unfurled his following question and statement, claiming to be a fair tracker. The girl clenches her jaw, looking away from the wolf into another possible pathway. “Come,” she eventually says, turning toward the southeast instead. Perhaps they would have better luck in this direction. Root hangs back a few feet, waiting for the other to take a step up to enemy lines and help find where the herd ended up.
My apologies for the late reply. A lot going on at the moment...
Bastien lowered his muzzled and gave the she-wolf his respects. He pranced slightly in his place before following after the stranger. He increased his pace as lead way. The brute's eyes lowered to the ground often, taking note of each limb and rock out of place. The breeze went against his coat and a familiar smell grabbed his attention. With a sudden halt his nose hit the cold ground, moving slowly, taking in the earthy smells.
He barked once and moved forward, eyeing the ground. He stopped again, nudging at the ground before him. There were small black pellets, many piles of them laying around the area.
"...Deer" he said with a small hint of pride. Before the two wolves were several piles of deer droppings, easily distinguished by their pellet shape. He hoped this would be enough for the she-wolf to begin to trust him, but they had not yet found the pack. From the shape of the droppings though they couldn't be too far.
No need to apologize! I should because I wrote this post while I am not 100% sober, whoops.
The wolf takes the lead before Root can stop him, moving along so that she has to keep up with him. Her eyes narrow, boring into the back of his head, but she doesn’t speak up. There is a delicate balance using a wolf she doesn’t know and if he does all the work, she might owe him something in return. Or if she’s careful, she can use it to her advantage and take the credit later. It isn’t enough to soothe her irritation as it builds in her chest.
Her original plan to use the wolf to help direct the herd hadn’t gone as she expected it to but she’s distracted for a moment when he speaks. Deer.
Root looks up, stepping carefully to avoid the droppings. The herd isn’t in sight but they should be close. Her nose drops, inhaling the ground to find it fresh enough. With a few graceful steps, she crunches the snow beneath her paws to set back into motion, focused on the job at hand. The other could follow should he choose to but she can’t let him cloud her priorities anymore.
When he follows, Root eventually stumbles across the herd of deer she'd seen several days ago. A grin forms on her features and she looks to her companion, jerking her head to begin a chase that ultimately leads the herd toward her home.