@Ulrich
The pawsteps of a dark grey and white wolf were silent in the dappled light of late morning through the canopies of what he thought were somewhat young trees. His nose rested close to the ground as he wandered, long legs trotting with purpose under their shade. It was not quite the sight the wolf had pictured, but it would do, at least for a meal or two. What Hviske would do after that needed thought of - perhaps heading north or south and finding food there.
He did know that wolves smelled present in the area, so the young one decided that it would be best if he ate his fill and moved on... however, finding food was another matter that gave a hint of annoyance to his heart. The trail he had been following ran cold suddenly, leaving him frighteningly unsure of what to do next. A thought that gripped his belly ever so gently - plans were important and were meant to be followed.
Hviske's paws trotted from one tree to the next, searching for his lost trail or perhaps a new one, luck permitting. However, something stuck with him, as if he were sensing on the tips of his mind that he couldn't quite place.
The pups were growing fast, though they were still so young. Ulrich found himself at war with his emotions every single day because of them--he was overjoyed one moment and terrified the next. He had thought caring for Adylaide had been stressful; nothing could have prepared him for the constant plague of fears that followed him around as a father. What if the Isle flooded and the babes drowned? What if an animal got into the den and--and ate... He couldn't even finish that thought, his stomach twisting uncomfortably.
He found daily walks helped keep his mind a bit clearer and less likely to dwell on unrealistic paranoia, so he walked. By now, he knew the territories surrounding the Isle fairly well, and had his favorite walking trails, such as they were (usually old deer trails or other such things). This morning, as he walked, he caught the scent of wolf on the wind. Male. Loner.
Hello?
he called, stopping and looking around. Then the wind shifted and the scent was lost to him.
He froze in his tracks for a moment at a sound, his ears perked and alert, eyes scanning for signs of life beyond the trail he had been unsuccessfully trying to find again. He tried to pinpoint the noise with his long ears and snout, though he could not catch where the wind had taken its scent.
Hello, it questioned, a word that seemed to strike as much relief in him as it did a worthy cause for unease. Hviske's heart was divided between curiosity and wariness - as far as he knew, he was on a pack's land. That supposed knowledge brought additional concerns that had him proactively rethinking his plans and steeling himself for an encounter. A muzzle taking their food without permission could be considered unlawful, even worthy of aggression. The young wolf knew he didn't have the strength or stamina to fend off an entire pack, even if only one voice had spoken out.
Who knew how many other voices lay in wait, silently?
He shook his head to clear the burdensome thoughts from it. There was no way of knowing, and by all accounts, that possibility was real.
The young one trotted towards where he thought he had heard the lone word, trying to calm a quickening mind.
Ah. Ulrich soon saw the young male appear around a bend. He set his tail to wagging to show he was friendly. Hello there,
he said, with a smile. He looked the male over, noting his coloration, the scar below his eye. Overall, there was nothing remarkable about him. Except that he was young, maybe a yearling. What was a wolf not even sexually mature doing out here by himself? Are you... lost?
he asked, and then winced, because that sounded so condescending. But it was already out of his mouth, so there was nothing he could do about it now.
The young wolf scanned the elder one's movement, sniffing him cautiously from where he stood, and finding him appearing friendly, despite the words that almost sounded like he thought lesser of him. A sigh of relief escaped his throat as his bushed fur lay flat, and his thoughts calmed down somewhat. Hviske had not necessarily wanted to encounter another wolf so soon, but it was too late to change that plan and he'd have to think of another.
Watch his movement, then, he thought, what little his natal pack had taught him coming into his mind as he remembered his mother's gentle words. But... he doesn't appear hostile...
His own tail wagged, albeit halfheartedly. Perhaps he had spent far too much time being wary of every encounter. He could smell the wolf's scent heavily mixed with that of others. This was a pack's land, or at least, that was a pack wolf and not a fellow wanderer.
I... suppose I am lost.
he replied. His voice was soft and low, youth still clear in his words.
Ulrich noted the boy's caution and sat down where he was, trying every way he knew how to show that he was friendly. When the boy's own tail began to wag, he breathed a subtle sigh of relief. There was no need for such tension. No one was going to attack anyone... he hoped.
The boy admitted to being lost, and Ulrich frowned. Is there somewhere you're trying to go? I... admit I don't know much of what's around here because I spend so much time inside my home territory, but... well, the sea is up farther north of us, and...
And that was about all he knew. Where did you come from?
he asked, hoping that might help him try and help the boy.
I lost track of where, exactly. All I remember is that I kept walking, for... I don't even know. It's like all of the trees and bushes and hills blend together in my mind.
A tiny whine exited his throat. He looked lost, he was lost, and it was clear it was causing him anxiety. I... didn't think this far ahead. I had to leave Da's pack, I know that, and- well, I've been... alone for... months now? I couldn't say.
His head drew to the ground, shuffling his paws until they rested neatly at one another's side, his tail curling tightly around them.
I'm not sure where I'm gonna go.