Altar of Twilight street trash

Dune gave a disgruntled low growl when the other wolf toppled right over him, but there were worse things in this world, and at least the offender was immediately apologetic. The white wolf was about to ask the stranger what he was going on about when the smell hit his nostrils, too. He knew that smell. He had encountered it last year, though he could not remember it being so strong as it was right now. It was definitely not food, but Dune was drawn to it anyway.

He tried to recall where he had smelled it, what it had been, and what the circumstances surrounding that particular scent were. Another few sniffs of the air and it all came rushing back to him. It had been this time about a year ago when a lone female wolf had wandered close to Dune's pack. She'd had almost the same smell, and while she had teased and played with him, she had eventually departed and left him feeling rather frustrated.

The yearling glanced at the grey wolf, and without a word, he began to track down the scent's source.