Dawnlark Plains curiosity

Spartacus had spent sometime in Frostfire Ridge, exploring every nook and cranny whenever he wasn't patrolling, hunting or sparring with his packmates. He sought to prove himself to the leader of the Ridge, Tezcacoatl, to let him know, let him see that he was worthy of becoming a Frostfire wolf, that he was not a worthless piece of shit the King had happened to pick up. No, he was a Gladiator and he would prove himself when he earned the Warrior trade.

But his family had always been a victim of wanderlust, and it plagued him now, tugging at his gut, like an invisible hook pulling him forward, pulling him into the unknown where he loved and belonged. Initially, Spartacus attempted to resist its alluring spell, but in the end, he gave in. After all, it would only grow stronger and stronger and stronger until he gave in, better to get it over with and get on with his life in Frostfire Ridge.

So, the Gladiator set off North until he arrived at the edge of the plains, he had never been here before, so, naturally, he was eager to explore it. Ebony paws brought his charcoal form forwards, padding gracefully between the tall grass. As he walked, leathery nostrils flared, bringing an unfamiliar scent towards him.