Fiona continued north, Prowler never too far behind. The familiar had wished so badly to stay at the shimmer creek, the shiny effects of the water so tempting to her little grabby paws, but Fiona insisted they continue onward. She had thought to follow the creek, but she strayed when she noticed the landscape sloping downward. At the bottom was a vast body of water, clear as she had ever seen. Fiona headed toward it, never wavering from her destination.
When she finally arrived at the shore, she scanned the area for anybody who might cause her trouble, then bent down for a drink. Soon, she would need to eat, as would Prowler. She had trained Prowler to feed only from her. The masked creature never took food from anyone but the witch, trained to avoid others whenever she saw them. "Up a tree!" Fiona would shout whenever somebody else came near. It had been safer in the coven, where killing another's familiar was a thing that would get you ejected from the safety of your fellow witches and warlocks, but this was strange new territory, and Fiona could trust no-one. Except for Prowler, of course.
Andr's nose was in its usual position. Poised to the ground twitching. Taking in a series of little sniffs before huffing them out and repeating. Searching for something that would always be there in one form or another, prey.
While he often saught something to eat - something to hunt to be more accurate - another type of prey lingered in his mind. That of wolves. Not to eat but to... he wasn't entirely sure. He craved some level of interaction. Something he had missed in this part of the Wilds the past month.
He knew where large groups of wolves resided, some of them at least, but there were other challenges posed by seeking them out.
His nose led him in the direction of the water hole, a commonly visited location by that of larger prey, and he neared the top of a hill which would give him the perfect view of it.
Prowler sensed the other wolf before Fiona, and she scrambled off as quickly as possible, rushing into a hollow log. Out of sight, and hopefully out of the mind of a wolf who might be in the mood for a snack. He who approached was a large wolf, steeped in the color of red clay with eyes that looked through ice. A fine catch, if Fiona were seeking such a thing. Today, though, she was seeking not romance or friendship, but perhaps a chance to prove herself useful to the wolves who lived here. If her reputation began to wind its way through this place, she may even fulfill her calling.
You're the first wolf I've seen in a long time,
she said, dipping her head back down for another long drink. One singular wolf could be dealt with, even as small as she was. If he had ill intentions, she would bolt. Prowler would know to hide until she returned.
As his head surpassed the peak of the hill he laid eyes on a young small dark female. A stark contrast against the green and blue of their surroundings.
Without hesitation she spoke and continued to take a drink, offering an indifferent attitude towards Andr's presence.
"A sentiment it would seem we both share Miss." he said, a faint smile stuck to his face, a hint of the joy he felt internally.
"Would you mind if I approached?" he asked, displaying his gentlemanly manners. Though a bit more heightened than usual. Now that he had another wolf in his sight he wanted to be sure not to di anything that could leave their interaction short.
A gentleman indeed. He requested to approach, and Fiona waved him over with a lazy swipe of her paw. There was no need to stay secluded simply because she was without a pack to call her own. Besides, meeting and greeting the locals was exactly why she had come here in the first place. Better to get to know them on her own terms instead of being forced into a situation she didn't particularly like.
You a loner by choice?
she asked, curious. It wasn't that often she ran across somebody who didn't smell strongly of other wolves. She, of course, had her reasons for traveling alone for now.
Super sorry for my late reply. Had a busy couple of weeks at work then a back-and-forth with WOLF Management to get Andr's account reactivated
With a wave of her paw she granted him permission to approach. Trotting up to the water's edge he closed the gap between the two of them, still leaving a health body length between them.
He could see her nose twitch as she picked up his scent in the air, revealing more about himself than he cared to share. It's not as though he was trying to hide it, but it wasn't something he was proud of or eager to share about himself.
"..." He began to answer and then hesitated. Both Yes and No seemed like improper answers.
"Not inherently. Being a lone wolf simply seems to be the default result if a choice is not made."
Close enough to return the favor, her canine scent was singular, but not alone. Another scent clung tightly to her, one Andr has smelt many times before while hunting. Coon.
Perhaps her previous meal?
She watched his lips twitch as he began to answer. Hesitation. She read it as a lack of confidence. His answer was peculiar, and the witch raised a brow. Were you not born into a pack?
she asked, now curious to know more if his parents had truly been alone. Or perhaps they had abandoned him when he was young. That would account for his lack of confidence and seemingly demure attitude. One could not afford to be hasty or make quick judgements if their entire life depended on the niceness of strangers.
He understood how his previous statement could lead to such a question, though he hadn't thought of it from such an angle initially. A faint smile came across his muzzle finding humor in the simple misunderstanding. "I was. Circumstances lead to my departure, around the time most would I suppose. And since then I have not come across another pack to inhabit."
"Do you find yourself in a similar circumstance?" he asked. A quick glance told him she was young and of the ripe age when many depart from their birthplace in search of another.
He explained, and the witch listened. The man did not elaborate on the circumstances that led him to depart his home, and Fiona assumed he had done something wretched. Wasn't that what men often did? Wretched things? She had known kind men, but they were few and far between. She had always found more comfort in the company of women. Men tended to make her feel... on edge. This one was no different, though Fiona didn't find him particularly distasteful.
I do not think so,
she said, leaving the plenty of room for him to fill in whatever story he wished for her. Fiona's circumstances were self-made, and she didn't wish to divulge too much. It simply wasn't her way.
Her answer was short and left no trail for Andr to follow. He wasn't sure if it was his own internal worry or if he was reading her correctly, but something felt off. Like they had gotten off on the wrong foot despite nothing bad having taken place. He didn't want to overstay his welcome if she could rather be left alone, but to pass up on the opportunity for conversation after being without it for so long felt disheartening.
Perhaps he could offer some aid, a gesture likely to be seen in good faith. "What brings you to this place? Is there a destination you have in mind I might be able to help guide you to?" he asked politely.