Fox's Glade it's a slow cinnamon summer and your spell's pulling me under

Greyback trailed behind in son with lanquidity, his paw-steps pounding and tongue lolling out of his jaws in exhaustion. If it was hot the man would of chalked it up to that. However, the gentle breeze provided plenty of coolness to the day's sun. Perhaps it was just that he wasn't as young as he used to be. The elder had noticed it recently. 'It' being his lack of energy and speed— something that would remain as 'It' and not be brought up. Preferably ever.

"It is you that should slow down, Clay," Greyback huffed back at his son before dashing closer to close the distance. However, just as he neared the boy had shot like an arrow across the field, his voice raised in a holler. Greyback could only bark one out himself in attempt to slow the boy down.  

Seconds passed before he had caught up once again, seeing a young pup in the distance tumble over in surprise. Greyback shook his head at that, giving as exasperated sigh. "Clay, mind your manners," He reminded before looking over to the stranger. She looked to be around the same age as his pups—perhaps a bit older...but she was alone?

Greyback twisted his head around and sniffed at the air in attempt to catch other scents. It was only when she spoke did his ear swivel towards her in confusion before recognizing the scent and accent. Swiftcurrent Creek were allies with Easthollow, and although the man hadn't gotten to know them too well, he was quick to trust them. "It's nice to meet you, young one. But where are your parents? You're awfully young to be far from the safety of your borders."