The Bracken Woods I am serious. And don't call me Shirley.

The boy had set off into the Bracken Woods to find herbs. It had admittedly been too long since his last excursion; Ali found himself more troubled by the thick bracken and other vegetation than was usual. He struggled to weave between the tangled, sharp ends.
At some point, he tripped. One wrong move had him tumbling forward, face-first into a thorny bush. His eyes snapped shut instinctively; no thorn touched the delicate structures, but the rest of his face was defenseless. They cut shallow tracks into his cheeks, muzzle, and nose-- suddenly all he could smell was blood.
A soft yelp escaped him as he flinched back, pulling sharply from the bush's clutches. He shook his head a few times, eyes watering at the sting, and moved to leave the forest. Quickly.
Alarian noticed a presence, then. He turned, tense and half-expecting to find danger. The boy's eyes widened in surprise when he saw the other wolf standing by the creek, finding it was only--
Korei? Nose-blind and blurry-eyed, the Governor didn't realize he was mistaken. His tail wagged behind him, and he turned his head away to snort blood from his nose. The bush attacked me, I swear!