Wapun Meadow Waking Up to the Unknown

A faint echo reaches down to grasp him from unconsciousness. The hand pulls him up from the depths of whatever the hell is wrong with him and forces his eyes open begrudgingly. His head still pounds, mainly the right side, as he begins to sit up again. He remembers waking up earlier but the clutches the headache has on him was too much to bear. 

Now though, his eyes have shot open and his body bolts into an upright position. He’s sitting up now, leaning on the flanks of his hind legs, taking up a relaxed sitting position. His form looking monstrously big. He shakes himself off once more, bits of silvery fur swept off into the breeze. He attempts to right himself, the pounding in his head preventing him from thinking clearly. 

Then he remembers what brought him back to the world of the living–a voice. Someone is there with him. So he fitfully opens his squinting eyes and blinks them fervently to correct his blurry vision. The silhouette before him becoming clearer and eventually the blotch presents itself as another wolf. One of agouti print and a beautifully thick coat all over. 

His now focused eyes land on the male. “Hey.” He grumbles, not necessarily in a rude way. The emotions displayed by his voice show more pain than anything. “Where the hell am I? Who are you?” He asks in that rough, freshly woken up voice.