Felltree Marsh kris, that does not say womp womp la bomp

The sun had long set in the distance, but his paws carried him out of Saltwinter territory. The steady beat of his footsteps descending upon the eart fell in sync with his equally steady heartbeat, the sturdy sound soothing him into a quiet sort of ease. So he walked, letting the peaceful quiet of the wilds lull him into a trance, giving his control to wherever the winds wished he went. One after another, the solidier march of his legs struck against the rocks, against the earth, against the vast beauty that he stood on.

He walked on.

Around him, the sounds blurred into the backdrop, light flickering away into the darkness. He let out a sigh against the oblivion, for the calm night was where he wished to be. The sound of distant footsteps rang out, calm and steady, much like his own. Before long, the scent of old blood washed over him, but he ignored it in favor of studying the grounds. He had been here before, twice. But never in the night. The silvery wispy sheen from the moon shone down on the lands, illuminating the figure of a single wolf snapping forward to kill, it's form beautiful.

Slancio watched in subtle curiousity, masked behind cool indifference. The night was where he was the most alive, and tonight, his primal owl insticts were alert and high. The quicksilver wolf look another look at the midnight wolf finishing it's kill, and descended down his spot towards the other.