Chimera Fields beat up ford

Stark drew in a breath as he spotted something along the ground. It was dark, fitting among the grasses naturally. It was the way of tiny things, they survived where the larger ones could not. Stark licked his lips, a sound up ahead drawing him from the focus of the male to the approaching figure. His blue eyes narrowed, looking him over, curious and trying to read him as much as he could. The greeting was friendly enough and he gave a nod to him. "Scouting for dinner," He said with a little shrug. "My pack has grass again," God, he sounded like a grossly proud parent. "Is yours fairing well?" He asked curiously. 

Many wolves had not managed to make it, but in the Keep they were doing alright. Not great. But other than Warbone, they hadn't lost anyone. Even their oldest, frailest member. The story was not so happy for the rest of the world, but Stark felt it was lucky, perhaps good fortune, to consider that the tide was starting to turn and that life was reappearing in the lands.