Meadowlark Prairie Can't see the stars, but we're reaching

The strong scent of death and decay permeated the entire forest from its outer edge, so Ramsay was used to it. It was thicker and more tangible here, and he stopped every few feet to scent the air with curious jabs of a thin muzzle, but all he smelled was familiarity. There would come a day when he would consider their gaudy display ill-advised, a call to attention that didn't fit with their stealthy lifestyle, but for now he thought of it as completely normal. He had nothing to compare it to.

The next time he lifted his head to sniff the blood air, his gaze snapped to a brilliant crimson creature heading parallel to his pack's borders. Instinct dictated that he should feel affront for this, but he was only a two month old pup, and the excitement of someone new easily overrode his wilder nature. With clumsy, gorilla-esque steps, Ramsay began to pick his way through thick drifts toward the lone stranger with an uncautious, "Hi!"