Blackfeather Woods tijarat allahm

in the shadows, where wolfkind saw danger and unknown, the little coyote saw succor. in the dark, forgotten corners of the world, rainary saw safety. it wasn't hard to see why; he was a scraggly youth, a skittish malnourished thing scraping his existence from the barren bottom of the metaphorical barrel. his last meal, he'd shared with maggots — two weeks ago, perhaps three.
the world was not forgiving to those not afforded the luxury of a solid foundation. frankly, rain was lost as an adult on his own in the world. childhood had been miserable, but at least he'd been fed occasionally, and protected from danger.
now, he was cowering in the deepest shadows of the most foreboding forest he could find, if only to cling to solitude a little longer. solitude was safe. painful sometimes, but predictable and reassuring. when he'd last seen another, it'd been a wolf — an arrogant, angry wolf, and that was never a good thing. he still bore the marks of that meeting on his haunches, healing but still quite tender.
his own kind was much safer; rainary had learned that much already. so when he heard the thin staccato call of another coyote, he felt safe enough to slink from the shadows to answer it. nonetheless, his gaze was wary as he approached the stranger, and he could not find his voice for a proper greeting.