dreameater

She traveled, alternating between nose low and high, testing the breezes and the ground alike for telltale signs of what she scented. Since the ground underfoot came so easily to her, she moved lightly, and made quick work of any distance that might have once separated them. Nimble paws soon brought her into sight of an earthen-toned wolf, crumbled into a heap. She approached -- cautious, wary, and spiking a ridge of her hackles in reflex while she neared and her tail flagged comfortably over her back.

Certainly, he had seen better days. She sniffed noticeably, finding no scent of obvious sickness on him, or any sign of wolf camaraderie so marked him as a loner having come on hard times. She chuffed, eyes narrowing in scrutiny. But would he even respond? This in itself was a test of the waters -- how out of it was he? Surely, if he possessed any ounce of strength still, he'd react to her looming up on him with her ears preened forward and minty stare intensely questioning.