Overture Downs field of dandelions

The white northerner had begun scouting for word of the miscreants on their doorstep, but Akavir couldn’t sit idly by. Granted, his time had been consumed with Jakoul, and as much as he was unwilling to leave the she-wolf in the throes of her season, he considered their borders would be safe from any outside rogue male looking to sneak past.

The chilled winter held his focus now—pale gold eyes roving across the clear lands before him—all white, spare for a figure of red, impossible to miss. The sun had just barely begun to rise—painting itself pale orange and pink in the sky. The girl seemed unassuming enough—delicate, even and not the kind of company he would expect from the troublesome group that was allegedly nearby.