days of greys

@Kaskara ~
Mid-afternoon, cloudy weather. PARDON THE RUST.

It had been raining most of the morning, but the showers had finally diminished within the past hour. Birdsong, in starkly bright and merry contrast to the grey pallor that hung drearily over the sodden landscape, tinkled down from misty treetops and plucked the nerves of the lanky black beast that ghosted beneath their dripping boughs. Their music irritated him, for it felt as if the notes just bounced around in his head and grew louder with each reverberation. However, the irately dismissive flick of an ear was the only indication he gave to his inner state as he made his way, for the first time in months, toward the scent of his own kind.

Though he was unsure of what to expect, he did not feel ready to deal with what was to come. However, the hunger that clawed at his belly left him little choice in the matter. He was a wraith of a wolf, all sharp angles and long, skinny limbs. His belly, once supple and full, curved grotesquely up toward his backbone, the knobs of which could be felt through the wet, black quills of his fur. He had been unsuccessful in his attempts to hunt down a meal on his own. Oh sure, he'd nabbed a squirrel here, a mouse there, but a wolf of his size could not survive on a mouthful every few days. He needed food. He needed support. He needed a pack.

The scent of claimed lands became stronger on the breeze. Not wanting to get too close, he stopped where he was and sent up a short howl alerting anyone nearby to his presence. Settling down to wait and hoping that his presence was not met with violence, he became aware of the rushing sound of water nearby -- a creek.