Blackfoot Forest In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a stately pleasure dome decree:

The first time he awoke, he was surrounded by darkness, and some sort of den that he couldn't escape from. And he was alone. He could smell something strong, almost like urine, but sharper, more acidic; and he understood nothing of what happened to him there, other than the fact that he was given something that looked like food, but he didn't want it, and often had sharp jabs and stings that made him dreary. He awoke at times with an odd, clear tube attached to his leg, which he would have ripped off had he not had something odd over his muzzle and an even more unusual appliance around his neck that made it impossible for him to turn his head properly. He did not like it. He had no name for it, but he did not like it. He was ashamed of it, whatever it was.

When he finally saw daylight, and an opening, he ran. Out into the wilderness, and he kept running, without looking back; he hadn't looked back since then. The burly male continued on, through a wilderness that was completely different than the one he was used too. It was lush and green, and warmer than he expected; his dense, heavy coat became a hindrance to him, so he had to slow his pace. He hoped he would acclimatize, and shed out his winter coat faster, but it wasn't like he could simply re-program his body. 

He lost track of how many days it was that he had travelled for, on his own- but no landmarks looked familar; the plant life was different, as were the stars above him. All he knew, now, was that he was far from home, and he hated it. He knew exactly what had happened, and though it was something he'd grown up with, he absolutely loathed the fact that he had been chosen. He had been reaped. He was being tested by the Gods; but how could they have been so cruel to someone who had done nothing wrong? 

Under the starlit sky, he tilted his head back and finally, in exhasperation, he cried out. A loud, bearlike growl of anger and frustration as he released his fury. How dare they test him; how dare they take him away. It wasn't his place to question the gods- but at a moment like that, he had nothing else left to do.

thought id throw my other toon at you :P

The deep growl had made its way throught the night to reach Siarut's sensitive snowy ears. He wasn't use to the noise of the forest at night, his own home had been a deadly place to linger in the dead of night. The pale brute ears had perked at the unsual sound however. It was a sound he hadn't heard before. 

He approached without worry for his person, only curiosity. He was confident in his skill that whatever it might be, he could handle it. What he didn't expect to find, as he watched through the branches in a bush, was the sight of another wolf. He was light in tone, tan and blondes interwoven across his pelt. Siarut was surprised that such a growl had come from the opposing male.

He took a step into the night, coming to stand before the male. His own stark white fur would stand obvious in the dark, and his intense olive green gaze locked on the figure before him. His ears were pulled forward indicating his curiosity, and he displayed his confidence in his stance with is tail raised and chest held proud. He was curious about the man, however he had heard the anguish in the growl. Anger could be dangerous, and it was best to be prepared. 

"Evening." Sia assumed the man wasn't from the south, although after meeting Nanook he couldn't be to sure. Even so he spoke in the standard tongue, although his accent hung heavy in the air. Some might find it hard to understand. He understood the common tongue better than most within his pack, but he could never shake his accent. 

Siarut waited to see what the male might do. He was confident in his ability and yet made a mental note that his siblings were probably close enough to hear his howl, should he need their help. It gave him the tenacity to stand his ground. 

The moon and stars stared down upon the uncommon pair bellow, placing bets on the outcome.