Shimmering a vaccume of my memory

Being chased from the borders once would not be enough, not for Anselm, who had gotten the hang of dodging fangs by this point. Yes, he had a few scrapes and some close calls before - but he was careful now. He lurked in the areas just outside of the plateau boundary and only ventured closer when he could monitor the guards. Right now, there were no guards; and that made him eager to try again, to pilfer that damn rabbit from its cache once and for all, or get up to other mischief. At the same time he was quite wary. These wolves, whoever they were, knew their forest inside and out - and no manner of his lurking would permit him as much knowledge.

Food wasn't the only thing on the agenda, though it was very important. In Anselm's haste to hide away, to spy and sleuth, he had discovered some areas with heavy perfume. A strange smell - often stale, and with only a bit of an affect upon him, but still present - which lured him beyond that hidden boundary on more than one occasion. Today he was in luck, for that scent - or something like it - permeated the air, suffusing it with an allure which brought the young man out of hiding. He erred on the side of caution still, not fully open to manipulation of his senses, and remained alert among the trees.