Neverwinter Forest Intrepid

As Impala stepped into the shade of a thousand evergreen trees, he compared what he was seeing and smelling to Turquoise's description of her former home. His gray eyes lifted to study the boughs overhead, their branches twining together to form a nearly impenetrable canopy. The air here was cooler and scented with wood and pine sap. Underfoot, the soil was rich and covered by a thick carpet of faded green needles. Everywhere, the yearling hunter saw signs of deer. His mother had mentioned that many made their home here.

Neverwinter Forest, he thought to himself, walking deeper into the timberland. He moved carefully, eyes shifting to and fro and whiskers quivering as his nostrils drank in the countless scents here. He saw no signs of a wolf pack, though this didn't surprise him. Impala knew that many packs disbanded over time. Not all could stand strong through generations, like the Blackthorn Clan. His grandparents' faces flitted through his mind and he smiled, albeit only inwardly. His lips remained drawn.

He did not think he would find his father here in this particular neck of the woods (pun intended); he never had. Impala knew Turquoise's history well. His mother had run with a pack here months before her fling. In fact, she had lived here with Rivet, her lover. Impala refused to think of her as Turquoise's mate, for two females could not actually mate, nor produce offspring. No, he had only come about after the pair of she-wolves had parted ways and Turquoise had lain with a man.

One day, Impala would track down that wolf, his father, much like he tracked prey. He knew he was getting warmer. But he also knew that he would not find him here, in this wood, nor on this day. Mindful of this, the strapping yearling slipped further and further into the shadowy taiga, hunting for a much more typical quarry: fresh venison.