Blackfeather Woods dark hiding place

I was waiting for someone to reply, but I guess I'll just... awkwardly keep this going...

He wanted to follow her, of course, but the plague of scents made him fall back and cower at the door; the boy was trembling, nervous and hunched within a patch of shadow and reed, and he looked from the shadows upon the white woman, wondering if this was the right course of action. Crescent's hunger was insurmountable. He knew as well as she did that his survival hinged upon this moment, and yet a part of him wished to flee the scene when faced with the prospect of not being good enough. Or maybe the simple idea of being foreign, as he could remember the many stories of wolves at the gate of his natal pack being turned away — or worse, torn apart. The boy envisioned himself as a rabbit caught in the sights of this pack now, and was unsure of his next move.