Firestone Hot Springs The Hill

Silas was nervous about staying so close to the ocean. He could constantly hear the deafening roar and taste the salty sting of the sea. It lingered with him even as he had traveled up and over the mountain that held the ocean at bay. He had scampered back eastward, fleeing the massive and overwhelming scene of an endless horizon of water and into the welcoming arms of the valley beyond. But even as he ventured out of the high altitudes, it was the scent that prevailed.

It was stronger than before, the smell coming over him like the waves on the west. Ebony nose wrinkled, he tossed his head as if he could free himself from the cloying scent. It was different than the salt and urine smell of the sea, and instead smelled almost warm and putrid. Never once had he smelled something so obnoxious before, and it seemed to be everywhere - at no point and time did he feel like he could escape it's grasp. So instead, he attempted to focus on where it was coming from.

Pulling his body forth, the ruddy boy searched for the source. He followed the dark shadows that laid heavily beyond, in hopes that it would lead him to discover the unknown. He hadn't traveled far before he saw movement in the distance. His stomach growled before he could even process what he was seeing, and instinctively he turned to intercept what would hopefully be his next meal. It wasn't until he had cleared some brush that he recognized it wasn't prey at all - instead, another wolf. Automatically, he gave a low bark, signalling his presence.