Blacktail Deer Plateau the mapmaker

It had taken a long time, but Pura was no longer perturbed by the cacophony of foreign smells that crisscrossed the Plateau. Previously, he had found the presence of a foreign scent incredibly irksome; akin to a house guest leaving a breakfast bowl out of place, or a roll of toilet paper facing the wrong way. Now, as he had been in his earliest day, Pura was once again interested in them.

He liked the scent of females best. They smelled sweet, almost forbidden. He had yet to take in the smell of a female in heat, but those that were capable of it still held an alluring, secretive aroma. It smelled.. loaded, tense. Even their urine differed, though Pura could not understand why. They all ate the same thing, mostly.

It was the epitome of a dreary January day, and Pura was rolling in stink. There was a particularly fragrant patch of earth near the siblings' old rendezvous site, and the large, freckled teen had decided that he wanted to wear it. Like a vast, silvery worm, he ground his back and sides against the cold earth, grunting happily to himself.