Fox's Glade and i'm backsliding

near the easthollow border, maybe @Clay?

today’s hunting expedition is… a failure. sudden bouts of heavy snow swiftly interrupt the slender canine’s journey. he’d been after a hare when it first began, and then, it grew rabidly, until most of what lingers around the glade had been coated in a fresh blanket of icy cold. alamar included.
he needs to make his way back to jaime, but the visibility isn’t great—he takes a chance for an attempt at a shortcut… this, however, ends up with him growing closer to the open plains of a territory he’d been careful to avoid prior. the scent of the pack, however, washed away in the white out of snow and wind.

Clay had been lounging about, sunning himself on an upturned rock, soaking up the sun. He had seen his auntie Nanook doing it, and following in her steps he decided to give it a try. Little did he know, that as soon as he tried it, he couldn't stop. He had become addicted, placid in laying there all day.

That was until he cracked up an eye and noticed a stranger not far off.

the blizzard conditions continue their roar, the snow showing no signs of stopping and alamar choses to power through. wind whipping his thick coat in various directions. blue eyes squint against the downpour, the chill making it near impossible to keep them open—so while he doesn’t notice the young wolf nearby, he also doesn’t notice that he is treading right towards danger; too close to easthollow.

apologies for the comfusion on the weather! I dont look at the widget a lot and was a bit confused on there before a blizzard in spring! Bawhaha, please disregard my earlier post on clay sunning!

Clay sees the figure upon his perch, and with a lifted brow he watches them through a hazy gaze. It's quite hard to see them, but the coloration of their black coat against the white snow luckily aided the prince I identifying them.

Perhaps any other Easthollian would run towards them with aggression for being so close to the border, to run them off. But Clay, honestly couldn't help but be tired at the idea and let out a groan as he uncurled from his neatly tucked ball. A good amount of snow had accumulated on the lad, and giving a hefty shake he was quick to toss it off before slowly making his way towards the wolf.

"Hey!" he called, nearing closer and shaking his head against the windy snow. "You've come across Easthollow borders, what is your business here?"

not a problem! Understandable confusion, I’m sorry I didn’t clarify further in an ooc note

the howling of wind overtakes his sensation—the bitter cold seeping in his bones enough that he feels it, his teeth clatter as he continues. it is a foolish trek to continue, but his bull-headed pride refuses to stand down.
he jumps—startled by the sudden company he doesn’t expect from a doe-eyed boy. had he known where he is, it would’ve been less of a surprise, more an expectation; yet the introduction does it’s job.
hey, he returns the greeting—attempting to speak louder than the storm. just… passing through. i didn’t realize i was cutting so close. he shifts his gaze awkwardly to the side, ears airplaning out in silent apology. he’d been careful to avoid the suspicion of these wolves before—having lingered as their neighbor for some time now.

The stranger turned, regarding Clay with their own greeting against the wicked wind of the storm. At least they had decent enough manners to do that...

He listened as they spoke, and with his tail lowering slightly he looked around across the tree line. The blizzard winds were whipping his cheek fur this way and that, obscuring his view and causing him to shake his head and squint his eyes in an attempt to detangle it from his eyes and lashes. Curse his father for passing on such a blasted thing to him. 

Managing to see slightly against the snow, the prince wondered which direction the dark creature came from. As far as he could tell, the next landmark was quite a ways away, something that made him narrow his eyes as he took a step back in suspicion. He couldn't smell them very well in the current weather. "If you're passing through then I have no quarrel with you," he spoke loudly back. "My pack might not feel the same way though."

sympathy from alamar for the cheek fur. his own a curly set that ranged long, alongside the lengthy furs of his neck—great for warmth, not so much for everything else. the wind is fortunately bothering the grey yearling instead of he, for he stands against it in a posture that simply makes it fan out, appearing more or less like a giant tangle of hair. maybe cryptids do exist and one’s name is alamar.
yeah, he hums in agreement—voice drowned by the storm. well, could you… walk with me? keep me out of your pack territory and no one will chomp on me. hopefully, but who knows. maybe they’ll think he’s some awful creature trying to siren away their members. alamar would much rather scamper off than cause trouble.

Clay cocked his brow at the other's weird appearance between the winter winds. Never before had he seen a creature quite like this wolf, their fur spread out as if they were an apparition. He shivered at the thought, hoping it was not true. His father always murmured about not trusting such things... But even if the weird boy was such, Clay continued to lead the way for the other with a nod.

He said nothing to the maybe-ghost, just a nod and a tip of his muzzle to follow before he bowed his head against the winds to block it. Blasted snow. Blasted winter. Blasted wind. Clay was sick of such weather and hoped it would clear soon enough for him to venture back out to Valour.

But just as Clay placed a paw down he sunk sharply, a yell escaping his jaws and he fell face-first into a pit and ate snow. Shame flooded him for such a careless action, and as he pulled his head out and stood, he shook the frozen water from his face without so much as giving the stranger a glance. "Don't ask," was all he offered.