Redsand Canyon i can see your face in the parisian paintings

Soon it would become too difficult for Wylla to travel beyond Paleo, so she kissed her husband goodbye and set out over the borders and into the surrounding mountains with purpose. It had been some time since they heard from Tikal. While she was not ordinarily the type for ambassador duty, the restlessness of pregnancy spurred her to make an appearance today.

She was surprised when she arrived at the canyon's edge to find only stale scent markings. The little wolf dipped her head low over the ground, tracing what remained of the borders. It would be weeks before they fully dissipated, but it was clear no one had been by to refresh these in several days.

Wyll took the opportunity to scrape her paws over the red earth, depositing her own scent as a signal to any sentries who might pass this way before cautiously stepping further into the canyon. Perhaps they had simply moved their borders closer to the heart of their territory?

Anselm did not mean to stalk the footsteps of his mother. As they wove their way out of Paleo and out into the plains, Anselm found himself drawn to the trail blazed in Wylla’s wake. 


She had some hours ahead of him — when he arrived he was out of breath and unaware of the scents she’d been tracking herself. Where are we going, Mama? The boy’s tail waved reverently behind him as he came to stop just a little before Wylla as she scraped the red earth under her paws.

She proceeded at a slow and cautious tread, keenly aware of what Tikal's guards might do to her if they jumped to hasty conclusions. While she kept her eyes trained on the terrain ahead, her tall ears swivelled like satellites, sweeping her surroundings for the quietest click of nails on stone or the whisk of paws over sand.

A sound from behind made her turn. Whoever it belonged to was making no effort to hide themselves. Wylla let her short coat bristle out and bared her teeth, prepared to meet whoever was stalking her head-on, for it could be no other than a Tikal wolf to approach her so loudly in their territory.

She visibly deflated the minute she saw the warm grey fur and darker features.

Och, she made an irate sound in her throat. You scared me half to death, Ants. Come, come, quietly now. She lifted her head up to peer at an upcoming bend in the canyon wall. We had neighbours here. Mereo once, and then Tikal. Your father made an arrangement of some kind with them. I came to check in, but found their scents were stale. They might have moved further in or they might be gone.

And if they were gone altogether, then what harm was a little rifling through their former stores to see what could be reclaimed for Paleo? She pinned her son with an inquisitive look. Do you smell anything fresh?

Anselm cowed under the bristled fur and show of fangs: his ears folded back and he withdrew, tail flinging under his belly until Wylla’s posture softened. 

He’d taken her by surprise — Anselm recovered quickly enough, coming just to Wylla’s flank with a brush of his nose in affection while she explained her reason for visiting the stale borders. 

The prospect of rifling through their caches piqued his interest. Taking deep draughts of the air, Anselm parsed from the various scent molecules the faintest odor of rot. Maybe something down there. He pointed towards a dip in the lowlands, keeping an eye about them in case Tikal made a grand reappearance.

Do you mind if I join?

Much to Meridian's disappointment, two pack wolves were scouting the canyon. The two packs that had made their home here had only recently left, revealing a rich source of unique canyon herbs and animals for the young coyote to gather and study. She knew, that if another pack moved in, it was very likely she would be forced out. Perhaps she could scare the newcomers out of the canyon.

Meridian watched the two wolves from an edge in the rock that created a narrow, elevated walkway. One seemed younger, and Meridian assumed that he would be easier to fool. She pushed a small rock off the edge, before quickly darting right around the corner, where she assumed the wolves would not be able to see her.

Edit: Wylla is an NPC as of August 6, 2023, which means I can no longer post here with her. Feel free to powerplay her! It is in character for her to intimidate Meridian or even attack her, assuming she finds her, but I'm cool with her being unable to!

The coyote made the mistake of judging the one wolf by their age without taking stock of the age of the second.

The sound of a rock clattering put an immediate end to Wylla's search for Tikal. Her ears and head both snapped upright, up to the narrow walkway where Meridian hid away behind a corner. The coyote had made a mistake, because Wylla was confident to a fault in her abilities and she was at an age where her experience alone was a key deciding factor in any fight. As a result, rather than faltering, she threw caution to the wind.

If it was a Tikal sentry, they would have sounded the alarm and Wylla and Anselm would find themselves swiftly surrounded. She wrote off that possibility. Either a rock had fallen by chance, or there were so few wolves remaining here that they could not put up a fight against two intruders and could only watch them advance, or it was a fellow sleuth. Her response to all three was the same.

With tail upflung and muzzle contorted to bare her teeth in a fearsome display, Paleo's advisor surged toward the pathway and began to climb, prepared to meet anyone she found there with intimidation.

Anselm was still slightly on edge when a clatter sounded from above. He flinched, a ripple of guard hairs rising as he turned around to face the promontory. 

Where he would have assumed it a random event in his youthful naivety, Wylla knew better — she flung towards the source with teeth bared and tail high above her hips. 

Anselm followed suit, a stalking shadow as his mother took surged up the escarpment.

I am gonna fade here, if that is fine with everyone. I have taken on way too many threads, and now that life has gotten busier, I cannot keep up with all of them.

Meridian's plan backfired. Instead of being spooked or even better, fleeing, the two wolves began to climb the pathway. Luckily for her, the natural staircase became too narrow for a wolf as she gained elevation. The priestess offered them one glare, continuing up, before settling down to wait for the larger canines to leave. She would have to find somewhere else to linger.

They coursed uphill. Anselm followed, Wylla led. Gradually the scent grew thicker, but the ridge they traversed thinned. 

Eventually, the egress petered out to a staircase so narrow that it would cause certain peril to continue. Wylla cut her gaze to the precipice, but called off the chase. 

The pair made back downhill. Anselm left several deposits of his scent and fur along the granite as they went - so all would know a wolf had been here, and the region was still monitored. 

They returned to Paleo as the sun began to sink along the reddening horizon.