The Flowers Of Sping (Joining)

It had been months since Rosco left his home. There was nothing there for him, but he still felt homesick. He was tired, beaten, and bloody. He had been able to scavenge some meat from a deer carcass, which kept him going for a while, but now his energy was running out. He had come across a pack's boarders, hopefully one that wouldn't attack him on sight.

Rosco drug his feet on the ground, his paws wet from walking in a near by creek. He slowly stopped walking and laid down. All he would need is a bit of rest and he would be on his way, but he completly forgot he was on a pack's boarders. Ignoring his surroundings he peacfully drifted to sleep, and began to snore, enjoying the much needed rest.