The late evening held a grainy glow to it akin to a dying ember. The sky had ceased in its display of intense color and ebbed in to something more subdued; the first stars blinking in to existence. They woke while the world below drifted off to sleep. With the stars came Hassun — precocious, almost languid steps, and a scrutinizing gaze to top it all off. He rose from beneath a copse of trees where he had been hiding, finding it most advantageous to sleep away the heat of summer and wait for the cool nights. The feline knew that the night was his playground.

As soon as he was up and slinking, he doubled back around the tree which served as his shelter. With a shuffle the lynx proceeded to walk and spray, leaving behind odorous urine. Once that was attended to, he began to slip between the trees, stopping only once to inspect a cluster of ferns. There was an odd scent nearby but... He couldn't quite place what it was. How strange.

The first thing that greeted the feline was curiosity about that odd smell, but it was swiftly overshadowed by hunger. He hadn't eaten for a few days now. The travel from the distant mountain range had been tricky, cautious work. Hassun had stopped to inspect these trees with a hope that, somewhere in their boughs and branches, there was something of value; however, after spending the past few days sequestered, he had barely discovered anything. There was birdsong in the daylight and the occasional mouse or rat by the late evening, but he had been too slow and too lethargic for these morsels.

Pity for him, then. Those opportunities had waltzed on by, leaving Hassun wanting. A slight ache in the back of his head told him he needed water as well, which was of more importance. But as he crept between the trunks, he thought he caught a stronger whiff of that strange smell. The cat halted and began to subtly bob its head - judging the distance in front of it in the curious manner that felines often did. He spied something silver passing through the treeline, and began to creep towards it.

The wandering feline had very little contact with anything that wasn't food, and rightly so. In his lifetime he had encountered wolves, but only twice before: as a yearling, curious, stupid, and utterly bombastic in his manners; a few months prior, when a wandering wolf had caught his scent and chased him from his sleeping place; and now this. The scent was suddenly making sense in his head, and Hassun was not exactly pleased with the thought of encountering another mangy dog. He paused in his approach and began to change direction, his eyes never leaving the flickering silver between the trees even as the stranger changed his own direction. He inadvertently came closer, severing Hassun's escape plan. The only way out now was a direct confrontation, or a scramble up the nearest tree - but a quick glance by the lynx made his ears shoot back and pupils begin to dilate with hostility; if he climbed this tree, he'd be stranded. No more thought — the cat lurched out from his hiding place and in one fell swoop, was standing face-to-snout with the metallic hound. A low warning murmur rose from his throat, and Hassun's fur began to spike erratically from the sudden appearance.

Fur across his body began to puff, and his meager tail stood straight with the same effect. The cat's face contorted in to a scowl, ready to hiss and bare fang if the need arose. With the wolf so close Hassun wanted to lash out and take to the shadows - but he instead held firm to the spot he occupied and watched with growing concern as the wolf took on a similar ferocity. The canine's growl was soon mirrored by the yowling call of the angered, cornered cat. Hassun tried to navigate around the wolf, but he was in closed quarters - with trees walling him in from behind, and a lack of knowledge within him when it came to the area itself. He had no intention of running in to an ambush, or falling off a ledge, or anything so foolhardy - but the cat didn't want to face off against this wolf either.

It was a stalemate. Neither animal wanted this confrontation, but they couldn't exactly turn around and simply leave. The rivalry between predators was too great - and the trust too fleeting. The lynx refused to do the natural thing and scurry up a tree, assuming (perhaps wrongly) that he would be stranded there by a zealous young wolf; but now that they were squaring off, Hassun realized the mistake. He should have just fled and avoided this entire situation. The wolf couldn't be trusted but it was also warning him away - not outright attacking as he anticipated. So while the feline paced a wide crescent around the stranger, the stranger did the same to him. Eyes locked, warnings issued, and then — without so much as a scratch, the cat withdrew. He spotted a gap between the trees and took off after it, slipping through the underbrush at such a sharp speed that he was sure to escape unharmed. Still, his senses were tuned to the wolf and he was ready to twist away if the hound tried anything.

The gap led to a suitably dark chasm where light barely filtered through, lending him cover. But the cat did not stop running even then - taking quick strides and putting all of his faith within his own momentum. He hoped to out-pace the wolf and avoid any further conflict; but Hassun was mindful of the way wolves worked. He had dealt with them before, and knew it was natural for them to chase prey (even if the prey could fight back). So he avoided being quiet as he ran, and instead charged through the underbrush with as much finesse as a startled deer. When he felt like enough distance had been placed between them the feline scrambled against the base of a tree and roosted in its branches, hopefully out of sight.