Blood Orange

A new morning chill marked the end of Tuwawi's fourth summer as Teekon, a land still wounded from violent ocean gales, began to dress itself in autumn. The leaves wouldn't change for a few months, the she-wolf knew, and it meant a lone traveler had some time to add a few pounds on before times became lean. 

Frostfire, a promising upstart, had fizzled almost as soon as it had began and with it went Tuwawi's time with Tyrr. Like most things, it was bittersweet. Yet it wasn't long before another bout of aimless wandering consumed the ember; her focus reserved only for survival. 

From the glacial north — for there was no future to be found in that land — the Sveijarn trekked towards the Sunspire mountains, an area she had often explored to the west of Swiftcurrent creek. She paused, arriving as a number of small creeks to quench her thirst and perhaps find a quick meal nearby.

Fellway had found his way to the very same river. An eastward trek had carried him through all manner of foreign landscapes - the winter wolf left forests, mountains, and plains in his wake before arriving at the edge of bone-dry mesa. Red earth turned to green, and September wore on - soon, he would face winter; a cruel mistress at best.

Fellway was offsetting a recent meal when he spotted her - a red smear against the subtle blue-green of fading summer. She was drinking her fill of the river, lapping at the chilly water with a mild hint of desperation. The arctic wolf stepped out out of his hiding place behind a cluster of stones, throwing caution to the wind - what did he have to fear? "O-hayyy-oo," he greeted softly, grinning at the lone female on the other side of the narrow river.

The brook's cool drink felt refreshing as did the cold snap in the air. Autumn was an electric season. However, it's unparalleled beauty masked the merciless winter to follow. It was easy for one to forget about the coming hardships amidst the changing colors... though to Tuwawi, nothing would be harder than having to endure the loss of her children one by one. No winter could trump that.

Quiet and serene, the slow babble of the creek was interrupted by an unfamiliar baritone voice. The ember's vermilion crown raised as she watched an alabaster male emerge from a copse of stone, the last few drips of water running down her chin. She remained perched on her side of the bank, but bright silver eyes and forward ears revealed her curiosity. 

"Hello," Tuwawi replied with an upbeat tone as her tail swished affably. "Passing through as well?" she asked. Perhaps if she engaged him the man would move closer so she could get a better look.

"Hello. Passing through as well?" she responded pleasantly, identifying herself as a Potential Friendly. Fellway did his usual calculations - she was approximately his age, robust, with a scar large enough to see across the water. If she was indeed 'passing through', it stood to reason that she did not belong to any of the claimed territories in the area - perhaps she didn't belong to one at all.

"Yee-op!" Fellway confirmed it with a comical nod, and stepped closer to the banks. Could he ford the river, or was it deceptively shallow? He scrunched up his face as he stared into the water, making it plainly obvious what his plans were. "I'm not really heading anywhere, though - are you?" he asked, still assessing his chances of crossing without having to take a bath.