Frostfire Ridge The things we love destroy us every time.

Although the area was not known to her, Nyx didn't expect to happen across the presence of another so soon. The familiar scent of another wolf flooded her senses and with pricked ears the golden wolfess paused in her tracks to listen quietly for approaching paws. She heard only the nearby hoot of an owl among the rustle of brunches in the breeze.

She didn't care much whether her path crossed with this stranger, so continued through the trees in search of a suitable resting place. Nyx had found no other trace of her own species until then, so knew the ridge was unclaimed. Briefly she wondered if the nearby stranger lived there alone or if they, like her, were merely passing through.

A short time passed, and the sound of a low chuff captured the young Ostrega's attention once more. She stopped again, yellow eyes scanning the area before settling on the tawny form just ahead, mostly camouflaged by shadow and evergreens. Her tail lashed at her hocks before it straightened out behind her, entirely neutral, although uncertainty causes the bold guard hairs of her nape to stand on edge. Nyx stares at the other loner in silence, making no move to approach or turn away, for she was not sure if this stranger sought her out on purpose.