Fox's Glade you are the moon

Sorin had stayed around the forest for a while, still haunted by his recent experience with the white pelted women on the plain. He had come so close to losing his composure, to having his carely constructed barriers utterly shattered. It was a challenge that he had not expected, and he had no intention of being so vulnerable again. Showing such raw emotion made one weak, and being weak got you killed, or worse. At least, that's what Sorin had come to believe.

He stalked through the forest, cloaking himself in the shadows of the trees. The scent of fox lay heavy on his nose, and for that he was glad. If the scent was making it hard to detect any prey, then it would also conceal him as well. Although, there was certainly a tinge of annoyance, for he simply could not find anything worthy of eating. He wouldn't eat fox, not after all the little predators had taught him. And so he searched in vain for any scents of typical prey items.

Suddenly, Sorin caught sight of someone off to his left. He looked intently, trying to ascertain who else was in the forest. Utter shock crossed over his face as he recognized her. She followed me! he thought, filled with fear and anger. He wasn't ready to confront anyone yet, certainly not her. The rugged male stood dumbstruck for a moment, trying desperately to figure out what to do. Finally, he turned, burying himself in the shadows once more, intending to sneak away unnoticed.