Two Rivers Isle to be silent out of spite

Darcia moved with deliberate quickness as he aimed to return his self-proclaimed shadewood. Night was the best time for him to travel, as the glare of the mighty summer suns sapped him easily of his energy, and often left a tired husk in its wake; panting and seeking shade. So he traveled wisely, keeping to the coolest hours and covering as much ground in that time as he could. This time of year made for slow progress to the dark male, but the abundance of prey seemed to make up for the tiredness he felt during the long halves of each day when the sun was at its zenith, confining him to the shadows.

He often left the shadewood out of loneliness, but the wolf never seemed to leave it behind for long. As he crossed the isle under the cover of darkness, his ears perked to an odd splashing from one of the shallower waterways, and his gold eyes scoured the shoreline for the source. He spied a small she-wolf, dancing in the brook, and enticed by her liveliness, the monolithic male approached. He paused at the bank— many wolflengths downstream— and lifted his chin as he tried to catch her scent, but after a fruitless sniff, he chose instead to call for her attention with a low and quiet boof in her direction.