Wapun Meadow Apricot Wishes

venextos tested the air with a slim muzzle. the wind sang of cold and the scent of the wolf seemed unaccompanied. it was that singular impression that compelled venextos to trot down from his perch towards the similarly-furred male.

his gait slowed as he drew within comfortable distance. he had no wish to spook the individual, all the same he studied him quite plainly. venextos had nothing to hide and it showed in the open swing of his gait. if he could get close enough, he would extend the silent greeting of their brethen by drinking in the wolf's scent by his muzzle. if he could not get close at all, he'd likely turn away and continue his lonesome trek.