Sawtooth Spire [m] Fled and Regained

The wind shifted and brought with it a bouquet of scents. He'd noticed tracks left behind by a couple of foxes earlier, and their musk lingered yet on the air. He'd roved too far into the foothills to smell the mountain goats now, though they had left droppings in the area that were about a week old. He licked his lips and wetted his nose, bristling and lifting his head when another scent came to him. It stirred a familiar, growing sensation of desire, and he drew toward it, navigating his way downhill until he caught sight of the dark wolf in the distance. 

There was some slight silvering about her lips which was indicative of her age, but it did little to lessen her allure; her eyes gembright and her demeanour welcoming, he returned her greeting with a friendly invitation of his own, ears pricked forward and tail waving.