Swiftcurrent Creek Who do I smell?

Something about spring seemed to revive activity in the world around them. It surpassed the simplicity of the birds flocking back home—the animals from hibernation awakening. No, their borders were busier than usual, and today was no different—Akavir trailed after a dusty looking fellow, eyes fast upon him, features unreadable.

The wolf’s nose was to the ground—intent on something? Male, it seemed—and as Akavir gained ground, the scent of the other would confirm this suspicion—though he was lean. Life as a rogue, perhaps?

He made no effort to gather the stranger’s attention. Instead, from a distance, he followed—like an animal stalking its prey. Mostly, though, he was interested to see what the lone wolf was so intent on seeking out at their borders.