Fairspell Meadow They're getting close but we don't care

Oh, but someone did see.

Venamis, lain among exposed roots of a tall Blackfeather tree, observed the dark-furred Melonii's angry little outburst in silence. A pair of eery white eyes followed Midar's long strides beneath the furrowing of his brow until he eased go a halt nearby, heaving for air.

He continued to seethe at the proximity of a wolf who'd been his father's right-hand man, though could not deny a thirst for knowledge. Where were his parents, his siblings? Some other pack inhabited the woods they'd been unable to claim, perhaps they'd driven them out? Ven frowned, obsidian ears splaying backward as he gathered to large paws and shifted weight to take his leave.

Midar would see this attempt at leaving, surely, and considering how blatantly he'd ignored him since his arrival, Venamis did not consider an interception.