Kintla Flatlands when i was a little filly

Jensen rarely ventured out of the territory, finding comfort in its enclosed sanction. It was a safe haven filled with wolves he trusted entirely, not necessarily out of companionship but the sense of family. Families were not required to like individuals, but underneath there was a trust and satisfaction that they would, inevitably, be there should another fall. It was a new sensation for him and he found himself strangely addicted to it by seeking out as many pack mates as possible, engaging them in meaningless conversation and then catching a nap. It was a simple life he lived, but that afternoon he finally breached the territory markers and embraced all that was the Teekon Wilds, starting with flatlands.

His paws carried him silently into the foreign landscape while his eyes zoomed from object to object, drinking in as much as he could to familiarize himself with the area. Every minute detail registered in his brain - everything from the trees and the shadows to the she-wolf and the rivers and.. wait, what? Jensen did a double take to reassure himself that he was not, in fact, going crazy. A lone woman stood nearby, seemingly uncertain about the forest in front of her. "Are you okay? Do you need help?" She didn't look injured or like she needed medical attention, but as he approached there seemed to be an aura of discontent hanging around her.