Lone Star Mountain belonging to the night

It was the dead of night and the clouds made the black sky look heavy and shrouded. There wasn't even a breeze to float away the clouds and let loose the sharp lights of the stars. But the land beneath rolled on unstilted, a beautiful mountain range tumbling towards the horizon. Around its edge roamed a true night wanderer — Noctura was quietly spectacular in size and bearing, but he was on edge. While normally he would be admiring such stunning lands and drawing feeling from them, tonight he wanted little more than to move past them.

He had felt that way for a few days now. This was because, while the ground on which he trod was neutral and unsullied by claimants, many of the lands around possessed the inescapable scent of pack wolf. He did not want to encounter some dominant passing Alpha or recruiter — he was a male of devilish weight and aggression, and was concerned he might kill someone if given the chance. Fighting was unavoidable in life, but Noctura had no desire to kick-start a fray that would quickly become a shower of blood.

Yes, he much preferred lone wolves. And for this reason, it was crucial he ignore the magic of the mountains and move fast across the landscape until the only wolf in the vicinity was his own dark reflection.

Private for @Asterr.