Blackfoot Forest i. please be gentle,

the dove ambled slowly amongst the shadows, the familiar aches and pains burning through her joints. silent crepitation ground beneath her flesh and the paintwolf allowed herself a grimace of pain as she stopped to examine a bed of spongy moss creeping along the forest floor. 

she gripped it gingerly between her jaws and gave a slow flick of her chin, tearing away a small portion of the growth with care. it was a satisfying act, akin to peeling away dead skin or scratching away at a scab. it soothed the frayed nerves still alight within her. 

the wind shifted just then, bringing with it the new scent of another. 

for a moment, aiwë deliberated -- weight shifting slightly as her good ear flickered. 

at last, she pattered quietly in the direction she'd come from. the scent was what settled her. the mother was quite aware that she could be wrong in drawing near to it. but it reminded her something of home. beneath the cologne of male lay the cool scent of woodland, a scent of spring days fishing in streams and sunning dry upon pebbled banks. riverbeds and the warm, alive perfume that rose from the trees beneath the sun's kiss. 

they crossed paths on her trek back to the daffodils. 

aiwë stopped when the he-wolf's dark frame emerged from the lengthening shadows. peridots dashed against citrine for a moment before they shifted, dropping to settle on a fixed point at the man's ember tinted ruff. 

a soft noise escaped around the clump of moss as she dipped unsteadily to rest it by her paws. 

"i greet you," the sparrow rasped as she straightened, her own voice a startle to her auds. she could not recall the last time she'd spoken.

her head dipped slightly, deferring to ingrained tradition that called for showing any wolf of a village due respect. one never knew when they'd wandered into another tribe's hunting lands. 

the movement of her lips tugged at the taut scar tissue that followed the curve of her cheek -- gained when she'd slid down the mountain, leaving the gouges of scrapes and scratches along the left side of her body. aiwë turned just so, angling the scars and bear-mark away from his sight subconsciously.