Little Goat Mountain Wayfarer

A light snow fell, dusting the air in a thin radiance from the rising sun. Though the smallest of the mountains he had seen thus far, Winter’s Wake felt no absence of pride to stand upon it. The trees here, evergreens to the knowledgeable, did not suffer too greatly from abscission, and the preyscent was thick even in the snow.

This humble peak would be bountiful hunting grounds year-round, and a place to shelter in the heat of summer. He traveled in an investigatory lope, exploring the gentle slopes for signs of discordance.

Fenrith moved through the snow with a quiet, loping grace, his slender frame weaving between the evergreen sentinels that lined the mountainside. His breath curled in the cold air, a fleeting thing, gone before it could linger.

He’d been padding along, distracted by the soft crunch of snow beneath his paws and the rhythm of his own thoughts, when something sharp struck through the stillness—a scent.

Fenrith froze mid-step, head lifting as his nose worked the crisp air. It was faint but unmistakable—wolf. His ears twitched forward, brown eyes narrowing as he scanned the tree line ahead. Careful, instinct coaxed. Fenrith moved again, his steps slower now as he picked his way through the frost-dappled underbrush.

Wake heard his company before any of his other senses could register the approach. He pulled to an alerted halt the moment he realized his steps weren’t the only ones crunching through the snow. Gaze panned towards the sound, finding a distant figure moving cautiously in his direction. The snowpanther lifted his tail and waved it in a beckoning wag.

Ave, stranger! he called.

Though turned towards them, he made no move to come closer, instead allowing the smaller wolf to decide how close they would come to him, the beacon.

Fenrith froze mid-step at the voice, his head snapping up like a startled fawn. His brown eyes locked onto the figure standing a short distance ahead, the wagging tail and bright call catching him entirely off guard. He blinked, unsure if he’d just been greeted or summoned, and hesitated long enough for the snow beneath his paws to start seeping into his fur.

His ears twitched, gaze darting briefly toward the trees as though checking for an ambush. But no, this wolf didn’t seem like the lunging type.

After a beat, he forced his legs to move, stepping cautiously closer. His paws barely made a sound against the snow, his gait light and deliberate as he studied the stranger. The wolf was larger than him—of course—and carried himself with an ease that Fenrith immediately envied.

Eyeballing him like an untrusting mouse, Fen barks quietly his greetings, swiveling body betraying the slight twitch of his tail tip in trepid excitement to converse with another wolf.

Summoned, the willowy figure tread carefully closer. Darklit gaze fell upon them with interest, tracing the traveler’s lissome form of pebble and sand, noting the wriggling black-banded tail, then taken at last by cherubic brown eyes.

It is said that if you meet a stranger when snow is falling— He gestured skyward, muzzle raised to meet the thin softfall of snow— a good fortune will befall one of them within the next seven sunrises. Which of them would receive the boon, he wondered.

I am Winter’s Wake.

snowflakes fell lazily, soft whispers against the pale sky, catching faintly in his fur.

he blinked, curiosity lighting his expression as he tilted his head, the boyish charm slipping into his grin without effort. well, here’s hoping it’s me, huh? he quipped lightly, heaving a genuine sigh, dusting his fur in breath. i could really use a break. his tail gave a small flick, sending a few stray flakes scattering into the air.

his weight shifted, slender limbs bracing lightly against the snow as he continued, name’s fenrith. his ears flicked forward slightly, curiosity plain in his tone. so, does that fortune thing come with strings attached, or am i just supposed to wait around for it to show up?

May it be you, then. It was easy for Wake to forgo this bit of luck. He was plentifully blessed on his own; a wolf good-looking, intelligent, strong, well-endowed. How much more good fortune did he need?

There are no stipulations, he chuckled, playfully admonishing. But, the boon is, perhaps, less likely to find you over another, if you simply wait around for it. Stillness that went undisturbed could be a reward on its own, of course, but it wasn’t the type of fortune Wake would’ve wanted for himself. Are you hoping for a particular fortune to befall you?

fenrith’s ears twitched, catching the chuckle in wake’s voice, and his tail gave a small flick as he tilted his head.

no stipulations, no waiting around. less likely if you sit still. he hummed thoughtfully, his weight shifting as if the idea of stillness itself made him restless.

a particular fortune? he repeated, mulling the question over. well, he began, i wouldn’t mind stumbling across something warm to eat. or maybe someone who can point me toward it. his grin widened slightly, a flicker of humor sparking in his brown eyes.

but i guess that’s a little too practical for what you mean.