Blackfoot Forest Morning exploration

The dusk was brisk as a shaft of sunlight broke through the timber filled horizon. Orecles was wrapped around the trunk of a tree, under which he had fallen asleep, and he ended up in this position twisting around in his sleep. The sunlight shone in Orecles face, the spot of warmth and light awakening him. As the daylight continued to fade, he decided to get up.

He had been traveling for a little while now, and today was the first day he wasn't traveling long distances. Setting into a little trot for a pace, he jogged through the forest, taking in the scenery around him, wondering what prey, predators, friends, and foe lay in these woods. Only time would tell for certain, but possibility is an infinite well, and Orecles was excited to put his parents passing behind him. 

When he found a clearing that afforded a view of Wapun meadow, he planted his bottom flat on the ground, using his front legs to bear his weight. This seemed as good a place as any to observe how movement happened here, and who resided in this area.

Through the darkness did he so often travel, taking comfort, even still, in the shaded hours. It had been early in life that he’d discovered his dislike towards the sun’s rays, any ounce of light usually leaving him with a burning sensation in his eyes. It was a truly problematic phenomenon, but something that he had learned to live with long ago. And so, when the sun began to set at last, it signalled not only the ending of the day, but also that he might begin his exploration of the night. A short journey that, without his immediate realisation, drove him in the direction of the place most similar to his father’s home—and where, just weeks ago, he would have found himself panicking over the mere thought of going towards.

By the time Alexander had found himself maneuvering through the darkness created by the trees, the sun had long since set, casting the woods into an even greater depth of the shadows. It was, however, where he felt most alive. And with careful steps, each paw placed to avoid the crackling of leaves, he proceeded forward, delving deeper into the territory in search of a fox or two. Their musk was ever so pungent, clouding his mind and nose alike, that he’d not even noticed the traces of another wolf mixed in. So, when he eventually found himself staring at the back of another lupine, he grew as still and quiet as the ghosts he so closely resembled. A part of him wondered about speaking out, perhaps calling for the being, but the majority of his mind insisted that he remain silent—save for the low rumble within his chest, uncertainty bubbling to the surface and driving him to act carelessly.