Barrow Fields D.A.R.E

The wolf disappeared from sight, sinking down into the tall grass. Wavering slightly, Chacal wondered if the wolf had seen her, and was ducking out of sight, or if he had found an interesting smell to roll in. Like any canine, the prospect of the latter intrigued her.

Forward she crept, attempting to blend her footsteps in with the gentle breeze, the sound of grass swaying, and the rhythmic swish of the wolf's tail. She sniffed, still uncertain about the nature of the plant scent, but certain that it was a treatment she did not yet know. She could smell no fetid stink- and now doubted that the wolf was collecting a scent...But the nature of his behavior piqued her curiosity nonetheless, and she continued to slink forward until she could see him between the swaying strands of grass.

She couldn't see much of him, only what the little gaps between grass stalks allowed. She thought she saw a smear of something green in his fur, indicative of wounds that had been treated. The poultice, still, was not one she recognized and she wondered now if she would even be able to prompt an answer from him given the fact that she did not speak.

She began to move away, slightly disheartened by the realization, no longer conscious about the sound of her own footfalls.