Emberwood The die is cast.

For a day or so, the male had veered northwest of the Creek territory, losing himself in the winding hillscape that rolled under the Sunspire mountain range. It was so full of nostalgia for the tundra born, basking in the freezing winds and watching the sky puff out long white stripes of clouds. The mornings were wrapped in frost, and the air drew threads of mist from the white male's nostrils. His step had been a constant heartbeat on the frozen ground, legs waltzing between the tendrils of grass that bent under the harsh breeze.

The elevation had been gradually climbing to meet the far northern glacial range, giving way to inlets of ground on the southern side. He had frequented the Emberwoods before, running into another pack wolf who had been rather puppyish in an entertaining way. There was no need for the ghost to return to the wooded grounds, as the open prairie was tugging his fur like a lost lover. Stopping, he succumbed with closed eyes to the breeze that played across his back. Scents rolled under his nose, bringing the aroma of the female. Opening an eye, he could see her figure rising out of the tall grass as she trotted towards the forest. Dovev made no move; something seemed familiar about her step.