Blackfoot Forest Re-entrance

Amsu had wandered a bit from the mountains. He intended to stick to them fairly closely if he could, but he figured it didn’t hurt to stray every now and then. Forests were interesting places to him, normally so dappled with light amidst shadows from the canopy of leaves above. However, winter was here, and most of the leaves were dead on the ground or blown away in the wind. Some coniferous trees stood tall and proud, evergreen, but their needles were not the same as broad leaves—did not create the same dapple effect upon the ground. 

Amsu wandered the bare forest, wondering what was here that had called him to this place. He did not have much experience with forests since he’d grown up and lived amid deserts and canyons his entire life. Forests were strange to him, even with all of their leaves. At least the bare trees made the space feel a bit more open—and let him see the wolf up ahead easier. It was a black wolf, and some part of Amsu’s religious mind felt superstitious. This wolf’s coat had an absence of Light, the Light Amsu worshiped. But he shook the thought away. One could not choose what color one was born with.

Putting on a happy face, he called out, “Hello.”