Whitefish River tired blue boy walks my way

He’d been watching them for some time now, not stalking or any such nefarious notion but simply observing. He wasn’t even hiding, it was the terrain that camouflaged him so well and his ruddy pelt made him kin to the foliage. In truth, he’d come to meet and greet, yet he had stopped short and decided to watch her from the distance. No, he’d never been one to openly approach another and the feeling made him back away from the task he had for this hour and so he determined better it be to observe and learn - then to approach. 

The better the feeling he obtained from this one then the better he would be able to react. He sighed, his mind was still at war within himself. The more he stayed here with others the more comfortable it felt, but getting to that point had been a real trial for the red pelt and he fought with it daily. Easier it’d be to just slink off into the night than to constantly show himself to others. No, that wasn’t true and he shot a huff to his lonesome self at the naivety of his thoughts. Aggravation also followed in how he failed time and again to mingle more with wolves that were supposed to be his family. He disliked how untrusting he was and as he watched her and studied her movements and body language, he noticed that she wasn’t too far off from how he felt either. 
Redmoon was a vagabond and a king. Lord unto himself and master of nothing. But here he’d found himself, surrounded by faces that smiled and trusted while he slept with one eye open on an elevated rock. As the days moved on he was coming around, but he was sure to escape the group as often as he could to venture outwards, ever scouting and patrolling. 

Not that he’d do too much. He had the heart but he was a poor fighter. About as poor as he was a hunter - for that matter about as poor as he was in everything.

But he tried to learn fast and his time with Cry had taught him much in the ways of scouting and traveling, his time with Anubis had purchased him some sense of a clandestine step, his time with Leila had taught him the value of life and how he wasn’t alone. And his time with Slade had taught him very fast, how to survive in a bad spat. Here, amongst the creek’s quiet, she was teaching him how not to catch fish… 

He mimicked her for a time, plunging his head into the deep after the shiny and tender meats that swam and played. Time and again he came back with nothing but water and once with some soggy grass. 

After some time and realization that he wasn’t really being discreet anymore, he retired from his fishing failures and gave himself a good shake. By now his appearance yonder had surely been discovered and so he made way to the duo, noting first the mass of Slade and he gave the dire a respectful nod after stopping a generous distance away from the two. Oh the look they probably had for him now, soaked and dwarfed by the giant, he was happily oblivious at this time. 

His nose went to work, stealing away her scent and taking it for his memory as well as the very sounds of her breathing patterns and speech. She was an interesting bit and so he gave her the courtesy of the day. But suddenly he was stolen away - how had he not seen this earlier? Her size and frame and even her coat bore stark similarities to his own. Could she be a wolf of his own kind? Certainly she wasn’t from this place, just as he. The typical blood here was the timber of the mighty grey wolf. He tried to stand a bit taller as he presented himself. 

“Lady, I should have come over earlier.” He dipped his head respectfully, “They call me Redmoon and it is my pleasure.” 
While his display was meant to deliver her one hundred percent of his attention, his ears were on the constant swivel and his nose was ever twitching as he sought the wood for movement, sound and smell. After the incident with Slade, he wasn’t about to be taken unawares again.