The plains spread endlessly before him, frost still clinging to the grasses and giving the entire field a sort of shimmering appearance underneath the morning sunlight. Had he been more of an appreciative sort, Tatkret would have stopped to enjoy the view. Instead, the behemoth trudged through the field following the trail of a hare. It was injured, clearly, judging by the drops of blood that the man followed. However, they didn't seem to end. Surely, he'd come across the damn rabbit sooner or later?
Tatkret knew the creatures could burrow, but so far he hadn't seen any sort of holes in the ground. Did an eagle swoop in and claim it? A coyote? He gave a snort of annoyance and shook out his fur, tossing some snow aside as he poked through the ground with his nose, looking for his sneaky quarry.
Can we smush this closer to present day by chance? :)
It was a shame that Whittier was not a brighter boy. If he had been, he may have realized that he recognized the fields through which he now traversed as the same ones he'd crossed as a child. These were the fields that would take him to the forest. From there, it was a quick hop over some marshlands and BAM. He would be right back home; the place he'd been searching for since arriving at the Teekon Wilds again.
Of course, had Whittier been in possession of the intelligence to recognize the landscape he was passing by, he would have made it to the Grove long ago. Such as when he'd explored the Eastern edge of said Marsh, right next door to where he wanted to be. If only he could have remembered how he'd cried over the grossness of its scent and saw some similarity in how he'd cried smelling it again as an adult. But no, he'd simply turned and beat a hasty retreat, and now every day, he journeyed further and further away from his goal.
Fortunately (or not), the young Frostfur was yet unaware of this fact. As far as he knew, he was on the right track headed straight for the Grove at that very moment, unaware that if he did an exact 180, he actually would be. The few frogs he'd managed to scavenge from Emberwood seemed like a distant memory to his rotund, saggy belly. As the days passed, he was beginning to wish more and more that he would just find Allure already so that he could settle down. He needed a pack to help keep him from starving. He'd somehow managed thus far, but figured sooner or later his luck would run out.
Today was not that day, however. Whittier first spotted the other wolf with his nose from a good distance away. He'd turned his paws immediately towards the stranger, driven by hunger and the instinctive understanding that food was more easily obtained through partnership. He let out a brief howl before he actually came within speaking distance of the stranger, not wanting to take him by surprise. When he did make it there, the youth skipped the small talk and went straight to the point.
"Hey, you hungry?" Whit asked,
"I am. We can hunt together. I'll share anything we catch 50/50. What do you say?"
Dark slowly walked down the large endless seeming plains of tall grass. As he walked he finished his meal of rabbit. After he finished his meal he wiped his muzzle on the tall grass for his muzzle was extremely bloody and Dark couldn't stand non cleanliness. Dark was just about to turn back to the forest when his muzzle twitched instinctively to the smell of two other wolfs ahead of him. Maybe just maybe they had some food to spare him. Dark did just eat a rabbit but It was not enough to for-fill his remaining hunger.
As soon as Dark got to were the two wolves were he stood there in the tall grass observing them closely. They did not look like bad wolves at all. So Dark slowly trotted down the small hill towards them. As he did so he spoke "Greetings I am Dark may I ask who you would be?" he said these words with a bash-full look on his face.