shades of cool

Fox was squatting at the southernmost border of her beloved pack when she caught wind of him. It was the distinctly musky smell that screamed male, and Fox was curious enough to investigate. She had plenty of picks in the creek... until something better came along. Stepping lightly toward the stranger, she approached him with apprehension and unease, and it would be up to him to soothe the tension that was ripe in the air.

He was, after all, not one of her own, and he lingered close enough to their lands to be a threat. And yet... he carried the scent of no others. Perhaps he could be brought back to the creek and put to good use. Fox often brought them back, even if they did not stay for very long at all. Her posture, while uneasy, was unthreatening, and once she was a few yards away from him, she stopped, allowing him the next move. The wound across her chest, while not healed, had dried and would only be noticeable on closer inspection.