Grouse Thicket no more innocence left to spill

This place was delightful! Lio was entranced by the denseness of the forests, and the strange little trees. They hadn't had apple trees back where the Carroch family was from, so these spindly little things were new to them. Though Lio had initially been apprehensive about taking their one year excursion on their own, the yearling was finding that it was far better than they had originally thought it would be. There were so many new things to see and smell and such new terrain to feel. 

One thing that was not as good as it was in their homeland was their ability to camoflauge. The evergreen trees were almost always coated with snow, nestled between two mountains, and Lio's white pelt had blended in perfectly. They were not as large and lanky as the wolves of their homeland - perhaps because of their mixed heritage - but that had not seemed to matter much to the Carroch wolves. Not an overly affectionate bunch, but certainly not a cruel one, they'd been accepting of the dog blood that traversed through Lio's veins. Their mother had also not been shamed for breeding outside of her species, so Lio assumed it was fine in their culture.

The apple tree forest they'd found themselves weaving through, leaving tufts of soft fur in the undergrowth, had been quiet until this point - Lio had assumed that they were alone here. Suddenly, however, that solitude was disturbed. A bird cried out and fled a few paces off to the side, pursued for a spell by a wolf, larger than Lio, and solidly black in color. He laughed, and Lio found themself smiling in return. It was a nice sound, and they imagined the smile would be pretty to match. Even if they couldn't make out much of his features in the impending darkness that crept through the little forest.

"It stood no chance against you," they assured the dark man, ears angled toward him with interest. One of the first wolves they would meet outside of their familial pack.