Golden Glade King of Kings

The boy can't be certain what brought him out here. Maybe it was the calling of the mountains, the sweet voice of the grass singing it's tune... or maybe his mother. Perhaps the scent of elk that lingered in the air, enticing him with awe and wonder had been to blame.

Wherever he was—it was far from home. Too far for comfort and too far for him to turn back.

And thus Primrose trudged on until he came across the scent of his mother and others. With a bounding run he raced to meet her with wide brown eyes and a wagging tail. "Mom, mom!" He shouted in excitement before slowing down and skidding into her leg with an 'oof.'

Looking about, the pale orange lad took in the sight of the strangers around them. All of them washed in brown and dark, too different and too big. They didn't look like him nor his mom, nor his siblings, nor his pack. Who were these strangers? Were they wolves too? They looked like it but... different.

Scrambling to hide behind the backside of Niahm, Primrose stuck a sliver of his face out into view to stare with a frightened gaze.