Wapun Meadow the nasty words of a hateful song

I like to be detailed about the setting so if it’s okay, I’m gonna give it a bit more detail. ;>
Setting: Evening — 1900. 68 degrees — Clear skies.

The large wolf-dog has wandered far from his own pack lands. I’m search of nothing in particular. Perhaps he will meet more followers on the way or perhaps more foes. 

Only time can tell as his heavy paws carry Donovan forward. His own golden orbs gaze along the horizon on the grand meadow of tall grass and wild flowers before him. Though he takes in the sights, his stride doesn’t stop. His head is level with his shoulders, the males straight back leads down to a tail that curls enticingly onto his hips. He is well muscled and they shift beneath his thinning summer coat. The stripes and different hues of browns mixed with blacks are striking in the odd lighting. Surely he is unmissable in the bright background of the vibrant plant life that surrounds him.

Though off in the distance, something catches his own eye. A black shape. Though from this distance he’s unable to tell what type of four legged animal it could be. Surely one of wolf or fox decent. To satisfy his, always hungry, curiosity he continues onward, canary eyes fixated on the thing. Though his first intention isn’t to attack or eat, for now it’s to investigate. Then those decisions come into play.