In a few long days, he realized it. This desert was a bustling place. He had yet to interact with coyotes, wolves, foxes, and many who made their home here. Calahan never intended to; he only watched from a distance, continuing his journey.
As night enveloped the sunset, he took shelter in a nook on a butte. The climb was grueling but nothing he wasn't used to.
There comes a point in many long journeys where one starts to doubt the leap they have taken.
Is it even worth it? Am I chasing a foolish dream?
And yet, there was no going back.
the preacherman came to town.
the butte weren't no easy climb, callousing his paws as the man's long limbs fumbled for grip and rest point. that it were night made matters worse, but he had a good eye, and a clever brain, and so he finally ascended the mountain.
up it, someone else had taken shelter. big male, a blondie, curled up behind a windbreaker raise. trouble.
the preacherman wondered if he'd been seen, as he dropped into a stalker's crouch.
He knew it all too well. Calahan thought himself away from it all, away from any who may pursue him. But it would not leave him. One thing trailed him. His caution. Paranoia.
He felt it. He wasn't alone. By now, it was hard to tell the giveaway. The sound, scent, or simply instinct. Experience. He stood up, aquamarine gaze casting across the butte. Why did he feel so exposed here?
the preacherman halted as the behemoth rose. big, was all his mind could remark, before his quite specific instinct took over.
the leaner wolf non-threateningly rose to full height, his tail forced to swing behind his thighs. there was gleam of teeth - a grin.
he made a croaky chuff, a half-bark of greeting.
The other revealed himself. A lanky canine, wolf...and other. Coyote? How odd. He didn't seem threatening, but Calahan was wary. Watchful. His malachite gaze was suspicious, burning into the other's sunstone eyes. As a response to his bark, he simply glared, slightly tilting his head.
Identify yerself.
the giant was quiet.
for quite a bit.
the silence dragged on as the lanky man's grin strained.
...aah.
he finally remarked. strong and silent type, eh?
tension kept his spine rigid as the other's insistent gaze bore into him, until he hadn't an option but to sling forth a tag.
name's merrick.
shiny teeth.
who's yew?