kjalarr spent his morning patrolling the establishing borders of the bay and working out the soft ache in his left hind leg; unkind with the chill and damp hanging in the air. if the overcast morning painted the morning in drab, monochrome greys: the afternoon was not shaping up to be any better.
it did not feel as if the weather warmed up any, either.
still, kjalarr grits his teeth and veers off, stepping over his borders and into the sentinels where he had a particular interest in a medium sized deer herd. he kept a keen eye on them: acknowledging that from them he could thin the herd from getting overly large and keep them fed ...providing they did not decide to move on.
he follows their scent trail and when he approaches the clearing where they bed and graze, slows his pace to keep keen cerulean eye upon them from afar as not to spook them.
unbeknownst to either of the pale wolves for now, there were two observers of the herd lurking among the half-ruined forest of the sentinels. yakone, for her part, lurked more out of curiosity than hunger or duty. when she had first seen the burned forest from afar, she had assumed it would harbor no life — but that was far from the case.
it seemed whatever fire had swallowed these lands was long in the past now. the uniform brown and grey of the remnants of the forest was shot through with hints of green. grass grew in patches. flowers bloomed among the ashes. and the herd rested and thrived among the new life.
yakone watched the creatures carefully, circling them with a practiced silence even among the crackling burnt debris. it was then that she saw the stranger; a wolf just as pale as herself, but with a gleaming sea-kissed gaze where her own was wintry grey, and faintly gilded legs rather than a scarlet streak at the chest. she altered her path and made her way carefully over to him, chuffing softly when she was certain it wouldn't startle the herd.
the owner of the soft chuff that forms upon the air as opposed to striking against it, is pale with a pallid gaze and an interesting red accent through her pelage. cerulean right eye turns away from the herd, head turning to better help him see her; despite that this leaves the herd in the milky, shadowed gaze of his blinded eye. the herd is now a grouping shadow; undiscernible as individuals but he does not think they will be running off anytime soon.
he is glad to see life in the sentinels despite that parts of it were still charred. when the fire had happened, kjalarr didn't know: years ago, perhaps.
hello.
kjalarr greets.
the pair exchange a few words before kjalarr and the stranger parts way.