Moonsong Glacier Ferrous

Fjall was not very familiar with scent-marking, patrolling, or any other activity related to claiming a territory, but he was trying. He’d never lived in one place for long; due at first to his mother’s memory loss and their constant travelling, and now due to his own wanderings, hoping only to see her again. Helping to establish a homestead was an entirely new experience for him.

Instead of lifting his leg, he’d spread his legs slightly to avoid peeing on them and mark the borders that way. He was doing this when he heard a call nearby. The yearling swallowed nervously, hesitating for a beat before venturing towards the sound.

An earthy she-wolf with ink-dipped extremities stood ahead of him. She was pretty in the way he found most women and looked to be about the same age as him, none of which helped to calm his social anxiety. Wagging as he approached, Fjall came to a stop before the stranger with a polite bob of his pale crown. I greet you, he said, irrevocably soft-spoken. My name is Fjall. Can I help you?