Grouse Thicket Of Pale Morning's Light...

He froze in his tracks for a moment at a sound, his ears perked and alert, eyes scanning for signs of life beyond the trail he had been unsuccessfully trying to find again. He tried to pinpoint the noise with his long ears and snout, though he could not catch where the wind had taken its scent.

Hello, it questioned, a word that seemed to strike as much relief in him as it did a worthy cause for unease. Hviske's heart was divided between curiosity and wariness - as far as he knew, he was on a pack's land. That supposed knowledge brought additional concerns that had him proactively rethinking his plans and steeling himself for an encounter. A muzzle taking their food without permission could be considered unlawful, even worthy of aggression. The young wolf knew he didn't have the strength or stamina to fend off an entire pack, even if only one voice had spoken out.

Who knew how many other voices lay in wait, silently?

He shook his head to clear the burdensome thoughts from it. There was no way of knowing, and by all accounts, that possibility was real.

The young one trotted towards where he thought he had heard the lone word, trying to calm a quickening mind.