Wapun Meadow A taste of winter is on the air

He spends a lot of time outside the pack's territory mostly because he can — freedom has always been an intoxicating feeling for him. He's avoided lingering out past dark until now, but today he feels... odd. Off, somehow; the sun slides across the sky and down past the horizon almost before he notices the landscape darkening around him, and soon the meadow is lit only by the faint light offered by the stars.
His trek home is slightly reluctant. It's tempting to just spend the night in the meadow, alone under the stars — but it's also cold and lonely, and the safety of Easthollow is equally tempting. So forward he goes, until the scent of another wolf catches his attention and draws his focus away from the journey home. He pauses, lifting his muzzle slightly to catch the scent a bit better. Near, then — but not very. He turns to follow the scent, confident he's on the right path as it grows stronger, but he can see little under the cloak of night. He's feeling more impulsive than usual, and determined to find the stranger — for whatever reason. So he chuffs a little uncertainly into the darkness after a few beats and pauses, ears pulled forward to listen for any response.