Phoenix Maplewood That’s all Folkes

The shaking of the mountain made him skittish of the Dragon; he stayed at its lower slopes, where he assumed — hoped — that it was safer. Even then, he tried staying out of the borders for sheer fear of the Dragon's rumbling and roaring, which seemed to quiet down after the supermoon. It would take him awhile to work up the courage to climb back up the slopes.

Until then, he travelled into the Maplewood, seemingly permanently abandoned by the pack which once stood there, steadfast, a dangerous enemy. He wandered through its barren expanse, the sound of his feet crunching through leaves or snow the only noise. Until he heard the cracking of bones, and the smell of blood and meat hit his nose. Hush cocked his head, approaching the sound. A woman hunched over a squirrel. He stopped place, knowing how winter's approach made loners skittish and protective of their food. He chuffed, cocking his head slightly.