The Bracken Woods I feel like something will happen today

The scenery had gained the boy's interest, pulling his focus from everything else around him. The sounds that echoed throughout the woods filled his ears, and the earthly scent of everything around him filled his nose. His tail had lowered significantly, the need to be alert having fallen away, but it still swayed back and forth leisurely. His pace had become relaxed and slowed, having no destination in mind, as he did not even know where he was. Had the large female passed him by, he would have been left oblivious to her presence, as his senses and mind were a bit preoccupied. There was a small, nagging need to learn more about the land he'd stumbled across, and though he felt as if he'd only just scraped the surface of what it had to offer by wandering through the forest, that did not lessen his attentiveness to the details around him. The types of trees that surrounded him, the marks that had been carved into the trunks of some by the claws of others, and the noises the wildlife seemed to make from somewhere in the canopy. Never did he see any of the beings who were the sources of such sounds, save for a few squirrels and little brown birds here and there. Nevertheless, the inability to actually view most of the creatures did not deter or weaken his fascination with the unfamiliar land.

It was not until his gaze had settled upon the female did he stop moving, and instead took to looking her over. She was large, more so than what he was use to seeing on a regular basis, and her posture unnerving. The aggression in the way she presented herself, as well as how she spoke, came through loud and clear, forcing the hybrid to take an unconscious step backwards. His tail had lowered even further, and it's previous motions stilled, but he did not yet tuck it between his legs. The response was one he was use to when meeting a new wolf for the first time. Aside from a few further up North, who were use to watching races from afar, many had no clue as to what he was mixed with, and some even mistook him for something other than a wolf altogether. It was a mistake he was use to, and one he could not blame anyone for. Ragdoll had learned from a very young age that he was not quite like his siblings, and had grown use to the stares of curious eyes, and the hostility of those who either believed him to be something he was not, or had deemed him an abomination after learning of his origin. It was nothing new, which allowed for him to approach the inquiry with a sense of familiarity, but with a reminder of caution alive and active in the back of his mind, too.

"A wolf, mostly," he responded, tone calm, but laced with a strand of his own uncertainties. Not of the blood that coursed through his veins, but of how the woman would react to learning such a thing. From his experience, not many took kindly to hybrids of any sort, especially those who didn't appear as wolf-like, similar to himself. They could grow use to their presence, even tolerate them to a certain extent, but there had often seemed to be an edge to their actions and tones. "A dog by blood, too, though," the yearling then added, feeling it best to just get it done and over with. It wasn't as if he'd be able to hide it, after all, since there wasn't really anything about him that traced back to his wolf ancestry. A dog in appearance, but a wolf at heart. Too bad the inner workings of oneself could not be viewed by others, since that would've been useful to him growing up. "I'm a hybrid, but most just call me Ragdoll." A swift transition was what he'd attempted, but after hearing himself, he wasn't sure if it'd be good enough. No matter, the ball had already started rolling, and an object in motion tends to stay in motion, particularly when one feels they are unable to prevent it from moving onwards. "Who are you?" he inquired, needing not be told what she was, as it was already clear enough. A wolf, through and through, and one larger than himself, at that. Seeing that was enough to keep him from approaching her directly, with the addition of her belligerent bearing towards him, of course. Ragdoll was no fool, usually.