Altar of Twilight street trash

Even though Tambourine had aborted mission re: Moonspear, he still found himself lingering on Wraen. He caught himself smiling over the thought of her pretty green eyes and lustrous pewter fur. Perhaps he could overcome his embarrassment over the encounter and try again. In the meantime, the yearling hung out nearby, trying to decide what to do with himself and spending entirely too much time daydreaming.

Then something pierced right through his reveries, wiping Wraen's fair face from his mind completely. Tambourine rolled from his back to his front and stood, eyes wide and nose twitching furiously. Something on the wintry wind smelled downright heavenly. It wasn't food and he couldn't place the scent. All the same, it lured him like a fish on a hook, drawing him toward a small cleft in the mountains.

He was slightly starry-eyed when he quite literally stumbled over a wolf blending in with the snow. "Oh—sorry!" Tambourine gasped, blinking to a focus as he scrambled backward. He blinked down into a pair of eyes a few shades vivider than his own. "I—do you smell that?" he wondered, tipping his snoot into the air and breathing deeply of the stiller air here between the crags.