Dawnlark Plains ヽ(‘ ∇‘ )ノ

Boooooooy was he lost...

Kubo wasn’t exactly sure when he’d ventured away from home, or how far he’d gone, he only knew that he’d be in some serious trouble if anyone found out. But, honestly, was it really his fault? Like, the little pup had a tendency to get a tad bit flighty and was, generally, awfully quick to run away. Really, he should’ve been tethered to a tree and never released but, obviously, that hadn’t happened (damn, can’t call PETA).

So, anyways, this fool was hella lost. Beyond lost, even, if that’s a thing that someone can be. Any other kid would’ve turned back days upon days ago and, oh, I don't know, tried retracing their steps. Not Kubo, though, no sir! Kubo, in all his brilliance, decided that it would be best to just keep on heading forward, further into the unknown. After all, if he went back home too carelessly and someone saw him, he’d been in some deep shit, no doubt about it.

Zac ploughed through the snow in a fierce and wild dance, circling his way and making the mountains tip and spin as he wound tighter and tighter, forward and backward, laughter strong against the frigid air. His tail waved behind him and he leapt and landed and sprayed the frozen substance in every direction he could. He had never felt something so bitterly cold, yet something so wondrously new as this. 

Some boys from the Canyon had told him of snow, the lads who'd wandered down in search of the heat and the red stone walls of the Southern hills. With sombre eyes they'd spoken of the North, of protruding ribs and weathered frames, of famine and hunger, and of the bitter chill that chewed through fur and flesh until your very bones quaked your tired head to the ground.

They had made it all sound so very dismal, such like a death trap, and Zac spun about again and flung a mouthful of snow into the air, eyes closed and laughter ever present, even as the frozen rain showered ice against his head. Somehow they'd left out all of this.

One step, two steps, three steps, fou—whump!

Kubo flailed his limbs wildly and spun this way and that as snow came down upon him, suddenly chilled and wondering what the actual heck was going on?! Too caught up in the goal of keep moving forward, the kid hadn’t heard the commotion off to the side of his path, nor had he seen the dancing male (snow blindness and all, y’know). Despite there having obviously been someone else there, he was just as shocked as ever to see another wolf once his vision was clear—oh, wait, he didn’t recognise that dude!

Scurrying back, his hackles raised as he stared the older male down, having somehow convinced himself that he definitely looked fearsome and not at all like a toddler experiencing a sugar rush for the first time ever. He even let out a small, pitiful growl, which was more laughable than it was ferocious. But hey, what can y’do? He was putting his best foot forward.