Hushed Willows this day aria

The last few weeks for the wolf-dog hasn’t been the most eventful. The quakes almost killing had to have been the highlight of it all really. To some extent Ulysses still thrives, for he feels as if he’s already been through the wringer; some earthquake isn’t going to take him down.

The massive wolf has finally made it across the Firefly Ravine. Finding an area of the ravine that isn’t steep before reaching the rushing water is a challenge in itself. Though when he does, it’s troublesome to bridge. Crossing an untrustworthy landing of rocks lined up is also unsurprisingly difficult. By now, he’s exhausted, his paws don’t feel too ripe, and he’s probably got some scrapes along his legs and paws form a few close calls. 

The mutts fur is damp by now, he’s been walking for miles. He finds himself at the edge of a beautiful forest of Willows. Now torn by the rush of quakes that split apart the earth their roots call home. His misty eyes take in the damage but also still see the beauty that lies beneath. 

Meaty paws thump on the loamy earth, crunching small leaves and grass. His paw-steps are heavy and he’s not the most alert at the moment but the second a yearning howl reaches his saucer like ears he perks up. His ears point forward and swivel in every which direction wanting to track the noise. Though he sits still enough for a couple minutes, awaiting another howl one doesn’t come. 

He continues on his journey, walking along the tree line of this forest. Until he’s passing by a tree and catches the whiff of another wolf. I haven’t caught the scent of another wolf in a while. He offhandedly thinks. Ulysses casually continues forward then smells it again. “Huh.” He huffs, sniffing closely; the same wolf. The smell is distinctly female but aside from that he can’t get anything else from it.

He absentmindedly follows the trail for hours. Until the sun begins reaching the horizon and the sky becomes a striking, eye-blindly bright orange. It seems to go on forever as he hears another howl but it’s much much closer and he begins a trot. Not sure why he seems to want to follow it. Then just when he thinks he finds it he doesn’t. Well... until he catches the scent again. 

He rounds a rather large willow tree, nose fixed on this new wolf’s scent and eyes searching or any signs of life that would indicate said wolf being in the area. Then those twin moons land on another wolf and he freezes. Large ears facing the other in mild surprise as he takes in this stranger wolf’s appearance and he gives another sniff to make sure this is the wolf he’s been tracking. Sure enough it is. Her scent matches up perfectly. 

Though he stands there merely staring, he knows he’s already shown himself. For there’s no hiding his massive form. He means no harm so he gives a curt nod of his head with a hearty, “Evening.” Said in his thick accent.