Fox's Glade You were there, impossibly alone.

For Xan!

As the sun began its descent, falling gradually to dip below the mountains and painting the clear Autumn sky in pastel shades of pink and lilac, Talion sought a place to settle for the evening. He'd spent the entire day exploring, travelling further from the coast to see what the land there had to offer, and so far had found nothing of note. He was in no great hurry, however. There was still prey aplenty and he'd hunted regularly in effort to stock up fat reserves to survive the coming Winter, should he fail to integrate with a pack before then.

In the distance, the familiar cry of a fox sounded. The young Roux-Abrhen ignored it and trudged on, nose to the ground to test the area for any sign that the glade may be claimed, and was glad to find no fresh scent of his own species. It meant he could stop and rest for a few hours, and he was prompt to find a safe place to do just that: a fallen tree, partly hollowed, where he could curl up and keep warm.

Pale gaze scanned his surroundings quickly, and when he caught sight of a small stream he realised how dry his mouth felt. Talion made his way toward the water source and dipped his head to drink, lapping the cool surface and allowing himself the opportunity to relax.

fINALLY HAD A CHANCE TO POST, AHH, SORRY

No longer did the night nor the shadows fill him with dread, the presence of the beast looming over him having not been felt in ages. He was content at last, if anything, glad to be free of his troubles and back on track to some semblance of normalcy; back when the night was his only time to be out, when he feared naught and challenged all. It was refreshing, he realised, meandering through the quiet region. Yet, something threatened his subconscious, a force that he could neither see nor touch, but could ignore—and ignore he did, for his focus was easily snatched away by the looming woodland in the distance. It called to him, the shadows and the foxes’ cries, alighting within the desire to bite and reminding him of his own hunger. Thus, into the forest did he trek, his ghostly form standing out and blending in all at once.

It was not with ease that he tracked down his victim, their numbers far too high and their eyes staring, unblinking, from every shadow. But mistakes were always made and—for one unlucky vixen, especially—those mistakes could result in extinction. Alexander wasted no time in chasing down the lesser canine, nipping at her heels as he played with her some sick sort of game. The moment he found no more fun in the chase, however, he was upon her, jaws snapping and head jerking, until there was only a single heartbeat lingering between the two of them. He’d been quick, angered by the resistance that he’d been met with, leaving his muzzle and chest stained with a mixture of her blood and his own. In the end, he had won, leaving him to continue forward with the corpse dangling from his maw, drawn towards the sound of water as his impulse for cleanliness overruled his hunger; a neat-freak, still, for the trait was one he had never managed to out-grow.

Only after having reached the edge of the stream had the albino noticed that he was alone no longer, for there down a ways stood a stranger. And for a long moment, he did nothing more than stare at the other, unaware of his currently ghastly appearance and forcing away his nagging desire to get clean.

When he lifted his head, having quenched his thirst and eased the dryness of his throat, Talion's periwinkle gaze fell upon the figure of an unknown wolf. At once, he felt his muscles tighten - what was it about the pale wolves of this place that creeper him the hell out? The other male stared at him from a short distance away, white pelt muddied and bloodied, with the broken carcass of a fox firm between his jaws. It was his eyes, however, that made Talion's guard hairs stand on edge: the most vivid shade of crimson he'd ever seen.

The yearling did not move to aapproach this stranger, nor slacken into a more approachable stance. He merely remained in place, blue eyes never straying from the beast who stood silent nearby, holding his ground until his newest acquaintance made his intentions known.

Apologies for my terribly late response. ^^;

Once it came time for his turn to be noticed, the Inuk’s stare only intensified. A part of him was curious, though a greater piece was protective of that which belonged to him; although the carcass was small and not that enticing, he knew not the history of the stranger, nor how fruitful his own past hunts might have been. Several different times, he glanced at the other male, eager to figure out what it was that had brought him there, as well as what he intended to do. Yet, when no answers were presented to him, he did not vocalise his musings but, instead, allowed for his jaws to loosen just enough that the lifeless fox slipped down to the earth below. There, creating a heap of disheveled fur and crooked limbs, he left his prize before moving his frontal half into the stream. And even as his head dipped downwards for a drink and quick rinse, his eyes remained on the nameless wolf.

The moment he’d deemed himself to be clean enough—remnants of blood still lingered, its stains having nestled in so deeply that it’d require several thorough cleanings to rid himself entirely of its presence—Alexander lifted his head and took another step into the stream, the carcass momentarily forgotten. For him to try and make friends was something that never happened, and likely never would, but he found himself being reminded more and more as of late that he needed to try and be civil, in the very least; his own conscious mumbled this to him on a regular basis for, deep down, he knew that he could never reclaim his homeland if he chased away all of those that he may meet. So, even though it bothered him to do so—and made him feel awfully uncomfortable—the male finally let out a low, “Hello.” And because he wasn’t the least bit familiar with the concept of being welcoming and friendly, his body remained just as tightly wound as it’d previously been, prepared for war in a world that knew only peace.