Fox's Glade Now, With Nothing but a Dirty Bag On My Back

Seconds ticked by, though the time did not wear on her. Patience was key, and had been a skill drilled so deeply into her mentality that it had practically become a way of living. Rushing things was uncalled for, often leading to messy situations that many would rather not deal with. So when a breath passed through her parted maw at the appearance of the other wolf, it was not due to her being impatient. Instead, the air had simply been released from its prison cell, having been caged under the suspicion that maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. Alas, that was not the case, which pleased her greatly. She watched the male’s form as he rose from the ground, his movements making the clutter that had claimed his coat fall away. Despite that, he managed to pull off the look of a power-filled individual, rather than some bedraggled nomad. Normally, she would have wasted no time in closing the distance between them, but something warned her off. The vibe she got from him was unlike anything she’d previously felt, allowing him to gain both her interest and suspicions at the same time.
 
The yearling continued to observe him, reluctant to give him the chance to leave her line of sight. When his face contorted, snarling without sound, she had to force herself not to take a step towards him. Such an act would have been viewed as foolish, perhaps, to any hidden eyes, but such thoughts did not enter her mind. There was a reason for everything, even if it seemed meaningless at first glance. Asterr could not decipher what had urged her to step forward, exactly, but something told her it was most likely the will of Draco. The dragon’s reasoning for wishing her to step towards the male was unknown, but it was also something she didn’t question. He was the Dragon God, after all, so surely he knew best. The presence in the back of her mind did not let up, either, especially as she witnessed the autumn-coated man taking off. Having never held a desire to defy the will of the fire-breather, she allowed for her legs to carry her forward, following after the stranger. She knew not his name, his intentions, or even where he was going, and yet she still held no fear as her form trailed after him.