King Elk Forest tamarack pines

as unaware as the stranger in the wood might have been, the razorback was not; he had scented her with a shift of the wind and had corrected his course so that it might cross with her own. with a lean-limbed prowl, tusk moved through the shadows as though he belonged to them – though he truly did not belong to anything but the wilderness. a haunting cry of an owl from above echoed through the wild wood, ringing against the crisp chill of the winter wind as it passed overhead. the wildcat turned wolf did not even flick an ear to address the bird above. it was not his place to interact with the winged folk, as they belonged to the skies he would never reach. instead, tusk continued along on confident limbs, passing beneath only a touch of the moon above.

though he could tell that her scent had gotten stronger, the savage would almost have missed her figure were it not for the splash of crimson that adorned the back of her neck and shoulders. for a moment, he imagined that she had been bathed in blood but had shed the rest. the onyx coloration of the rest of her frame seemed as though it had been birthed from the very shadows that they prowled. for a moment, tusk was reminded of thorn and quill, but the images of his siblings did not last long enough to give him pause. instead, the savage released a gruff bark to garner the attention of the stranger in the night.