It was so often beneath the cover of the night that he found some sort of sanctuary from the heat but, this time around, he was not so lucky. For the evening had not brought with it any cool breaths of air, simply the same, heated puffs that plagued the world during the reign of the Sun. Still, in spite of this, the albino pressed onwards through the valley, pulled by the thought of bettering his knowledge of the land; although he wasn’t a Scout, nor had he any interest in becoming one, he knew the importance of being familiar with the area surrounding one’s domain. For that reason alone, he explored when he could, wishing to never be caught by surprise.

With the glow of the moon overhead, Alexander wandered into the meadow with little care of just how late it’d become. Previously, he’d told himself that his paws would always be leading him back towards Bearclaw the moment the sun began to set, but even his own rules were not ones that he could follow continuously. Thus, the albino proceeded, seeming almost as if he might be an extension of the moon itself with how radiant his fur appeared to be. All was calm, for now, as he was allowed to relax, knowing that he would not be forced into yet another awful situation. Even as the scent of another—feminine, and growing stronger by the second—passed through his nostrils, he was bothered not by it, choosing to carry on, on his way anyways. This decision, of course, put him on the exact same course as the stranger, the distance between them lessening as they were certain to cross paths in but a moment's notice...