Chimera Fields Wasting Time on Love That Wasn't Real

Wicken continued his attempts to flush the small critters from their burrows with quick rushes and jostles of the shrubbery where he could detect a scent flowing to his nose. They stuck a large, dark face into a particularly wide burrow and escaped the compromising position with a sneeze from the dust. They were unaware of the company until after the sneeze had left him, but it made the situation no less embarrassing. Wicken was quick to catch a feminine scent on the wind. It smelled close. The dark ears on top of his head pinned harshly to his skull while he gauged the situation.

The concept of interaction was far fetched for him on this particular day, and he was unsure if he had been spotted yet. The young male remained in a frozen position, staring the opposite direction of the wind that brought the smell with it. After a few moments of statue-esque deliberation, Wicken released their pinned ears and continued with his attempt for lunch. He would not allow himself to be chased from these grounds before filling his stomach with a meal. 

They moved parallel to the scent if not away from it to give the other individual space. The occasional glance was sent over a lanky shoulder to determine their location in relation to his own, but he did his best to conceal the looks between the flowers. A stir in a burrow is what finally drew their attention. Wicken honed in on the sounds that lay beneath a wilting flower patch, and he lay down in front of the entrance in wait. He was facing the stranger now, observing the pale female carefully between the stems of the flower. He did not want to make his new position known lest the wolf wished for a tussle.