Phantom Hollow Aedd Gynvael

The claims were scattered here and there along the flatlands. One group had marked their territory around the plains to the east. Another had formed their pack upon the plateau. There were others that existed further south, closer to the warm lands and red stone. Nazair had not traveled quite that far. He feared he might become spellbound by the warmth and the ways of the natives.

Curiosity had gotten the better of the young wolf. He had gazed out across the plains and had seen several mighty figures prowl across the stretch of rolling earth. They seemed an intense lot. The land they had claimed was tucked at the base of the mountain range. It seemed to be a good place for hunters.

Nazair continued to study the edges of Yellowstone, waiting to see if he might lure one of their members outside of the pack.

Fjall did not often venture toward this hollowed place. It was eerie in its quietness, even moreso now that he had spent a couple moons in the relentlessly noisy company of bison. Their constant shuffling and billowing and grunts - even when sleeping - had taken some getting used to, but these days he found himself pining whenever he was without the din of wolly bovine surrounding him.

He'd traveled beyond Yellowstone's claim this day to find a place he knew at the river where it was best to hunt otters. He was returning from the fishing expedition, long-bodied prize in tow, when he spotted the prowling stranger.

Pace slowing, he dropped his meal, gave his damp pelt a good shake and called out. I greet you, my friend! This is very near to Yellowstone's claim. Can we aid you in some way? Some in his pack may have not been so quick to offer, but Fjall (for better or worse) was an openhearted as they came.

cameo!

The herd had moved to the forest for protection- but it would not keep them from harm for long. While the bay mare healed, Fancy kept watch, roving out occasionally on her own as a stallion would do, to see if any predators roamed nearby. 

They did; she smelled two.

She snorted lightly and swished her tail before she ambled back toward the herd. She would tell @Selenia, so she could ready Silverbirch for more travel, before guiding the small band deeper into the woodlands and away from the wolves.

wolves! her eyes narrowed at fancy's revelation; she fetched her filly as soon as she was able, tucking the girl against her hip and encouraging cedar to her other side.

the mares and foal slid into the dappled shadows and were gone.

The sorrel had a wild look in her eyes when she returned, and Silverbirch began to move before she took the time to flare her nostrils and inhale the scent. Faint as it was, the scent of wolf fur lingered on the air- closer than it usually was. Ushered forth by her mother, Silverbirch stuck close to her dam's side, ears flicking and eyes widened as they moved further into the darkness.

Just curious, Nazair called out to the other wolf, waving his tail to dismiss any thoughts of foul play. He might have been a selfish young man but he knew better than to pick fights at the edge of another pack’s claim. My family lives that way, he gestured toward Raventhorpe with a swinging snout and his marigold gaze latched onto a herd of the strangest creatures he’d ever seen.

The young wolf blinked, baffled by the group of horses that had clopped their way into the nearby meadow. The animals looked wary, moving in a way to protect certain members of their group. Nazair found this too curious. The bold young wolf yipped out to them, testing them with his voice. They did not appear interested in the ways of the wolf, though.

I hope nobody minds if I hop in here! :) slight language

The homestead had been quiet, lately. The pack was still new, and so the leaders sought out to form alliances with the neighbours.

Yes yes, that's all right and good, except Envy was bored. She'd familiarized herself with the lands within their borders, but not the ones just sitting neat and nice on the outskirts—begging to be desecrated by her presence.

She'd catch note of a few scents on the wind. Two wolves, and.... something else..? Peeking over the grassy hills, she'd spot these tall, ugly deer things retreating. The thundering of their hooves sent a shiver down her spine. Perhaps they were deformed bison, unwanted by the rest of the herd, and by extension, the bison hunters as well.

Ah well, she was late to the party, and they were gone now. Her attention fell back onto the two wolves exchanging words a little ways ahead, one of whom, upon her encroachment, bore the scent of Yellowstone. She must've neglected to meet this one, or their paths had simply never crossed. Nonetheless, the other wolf was distinctly a stranger, his scent entirely unfamiliar.

Without a shred of reluctance or self-preservation to be seen, the scrappy silver girl snaked her way over and trotted up nice and close, a whelpish skip to her pace as she came up behind the snow-coated wolf and thrust herself into their conversation.

Evenin'! What's all the commotion? She'd muse curiously, accompanying her words with an idle draw of her tongue over an opened maw. She was small, sure, but she didn't wish to give the impression that her teeth didn't still work. She was in the mood to be a shit-stirrer.

That would make two of us, Fjall rejoined cheerfully, taking the wolf's body language at face value. Knowing of Raventhorpe, he prepared to further admit his own curiosity and offer to share his fish (as was his way), though paused as their conversation seemed to disturb a trio of horses. So, this is where they have gone... he mused aloud. Now used to such large beasts, he watched calmly as the graceful mares and their jaunty pony made a hasty exit.

Fjall's tail wagged as the young wolf fielded an inquisitive yip towards the creatures. He chuckled softly when noting his warm yellow eyes bright with wonder. First time seeing horses? he asked the Raventhorpe wolf. What is it that you think of them?

They had not spoken long when another figure appeared. This one was scrawnier than the first and more feminine upon closer inspection, though their similar stone-and-frost markings made Fjall wonder if they were related in some way. He wouldn't know for certain without getting a better whiff of their scents; including the woman's telltale Yellowstone perfume. I greet you, my friend. We are just strangers crossing paths, though the horses are not so eager to join us. He smiled almost bashfully. My name is Fjall.

He looked between them both, hopeful that they would be as forthcoming with their own introductions.

This guy seemed to know what the animals were. At least, he was familiar enough that he commented on where they had gone- or maybe where they were. Nazair didn’t know. He felt a bit starstruck getting to look at the curious creatures roam out of their line of sight. They looked as though they carried a good deal of meat on their bodies. Their coats did not appear as long as the deer or elk, except in odd places.

Horses, he repeated. His voice was a mesmerized whisper. The young man kept following where they’d gone, hoping they might come back. When he realized that he was being rude to the other, he pulled himself from the trance and fixed the sunlight yellow of his eyes back on Fjall.

I’m Nazair, he introduced. The appearance of a girl pulled his ears to a tall point atop his head. She approached with a few words, carrying the scent of the same pack as Fjall. Their territory was an impressive one. Back to the subject of the animals they had seen…

Can you hunt them, y’think?