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

Carefully, she followed, keeping close enough to not lose sight of the male, but far enough so as not to run into him if he were to suddenly stop. She could not figure out what he was stalking, having scented no prey worth chasing down when she’d entered the glade. The stench of foxes lingered seemingly everywhere, but she’d seen nothing wrong with that. Never had she pursued the red-furred animals, having never found it to be necessary. In her home tribe, there were few of them, and they’d often keep their distance from the wolves. Besides, killing one almost seemed wrong, what with their bright pelts reminding her so often of the dragon’s flames. They were wily creatures, often unpredictable—just like the fire her God was capable of summoning. To kill one was to smother the flame, to strip the vibrant colour of its life. The willowy girl had never been able to go through with it. Chasing them away, she could do, but even then their furs would entice her, usually leaving her in a trance-like state.
 
The male had stopped, looking back at her with a faint upturn of his lips. She, too, ceased her movements, gaze unwavering despite the look she’d been given. Asterr held herself still until the male looked away, and then she was off. Following him was an easy task, her actions no longer driven by an unknown urge, but by her own curiosity. She had wished to know what he was after, but as they progressed, the yearling could not help but wonder if she should turn back and head off on her own. The foxes’ fragrant grew heavier with each step taken, filling her senses and stirring up old memories. Knowing well it was not the time to reminiscent about the past, her attention was focused entirely on the man and her pursuit of him.
 
Slowing her steps, Asterr caught the signals being sent her way. Though far from being a submissive wolf, she did not fight his silent request. Instead, she lowered herself, slim legs bending at their joints until she was crouched down. The obsidian being crept towards the stranger, movements as careful as they’d always been. Uncertain of what he had planned, exactly, she waited to receive any indications of what was running through his mind. Not a second went by in which her eyes weren’t on his body, observing him and taking notes.