Blacktail Deer Plateau blue sky black death

As evening slowly fell into dusk and creatures of the day settled down for the night, Atticus was concluding his last patrol near the borders for the day. He did not keep a den; rather, he preferred to sleep in a different location each night, wherever he found a reasonably safe and comfortable place to hunker down. So his eyes, ears, and nose were on high alert not just for threats, but also for a bed. And so it was that the howl, sung in a sweet, youthful voice and, bizarrely, addressed specifically for him, came to his ears. Quickly, he averted his course to take him in the direction from which that howl had come. Who was it and why were they looking for him? What did they want, this late in the evening?

It didn't take him terribly long to get there. In the quickly-waning bronze light, he glimpsed a shadowy pewter figure, small, wiry, and slight of build. A young wolf. As he drew nearer, he amended that assessment to very young wolf, which added to his confusion. What did a kid want with him? He didn't even know any kids. Hell, he didn't even know any parents (except for Perry, but he didn't count because his kids hadn't arrived yet).

Even though this was clearly a pup, it was still a stranger and he was still a guardian of this land. He had a lot to protect, with his brother's puppies due any day, and so he bristled as he approached, and a soft growl rumbled in his chest. His manner was not intended to frighten the pup off, but only to remind her very clearly of his position in relation to hers. He had all kinds of questions for the youngster, but when he spoke, his voice was gruff and straightforward: "It's late. Who are you and why do you summon me?"