Hushed Willows His plans always worked

There was not an adventurous bone in Larkspur's body, yet not for the first time, her restless hunger drove her from the comforting arms of her family and into the unknown. Dawn light streaked the eastern horizon as she picked her way out of The Crook, paws quickly growing damp where dew clung to the newly growing grass underfoot. She didn't wander in any particular direction, just meandered through the unfamiliar willow wood in search of anything to fill these empty spaces inside her.

Another wolf might have felt compelled to investigate a strange noise, yet Larkspur's reaction to the whimpering and thrashing that disrupted the morning peace and quiet was to scramble behind the nearest scanty bush and press her belly close to the earth. Her huge eyes flew wide at first, then narrowed slightly as she squinted through the scraggly branches in the direction of the sound. Soon enough, she spotted a vaguely familiar wolf with black fur, sitting still and staring down at his feet. Spur remained quiet and motionless, observing him.