Hoshor Plains wild heart

A scent hit his nose as he came within visible distance of Rannoch and he stopped his approach. The beginnings of a smile were quickly wiped off his face as he tested the air again before he crinkled his nose in disgust. His large ears swivelled as he picked up the noise of something bouncing around in the grasses and he stared pointedly at the flash of grey that appeared briefly above the stalks. It was him.

Redshank looked back accusingly at Rannoch as he spoke, commanding them to close the distance so they could get going. Where? Redshank didn't know but he did not want to go anywhere with that little twerp (if it was indeed who he thought it was). What was he even doing here anyway? Last time they met each other, Redshank was sure he had smelt quite strongly of a single territory. That usually indicated a pack, right?

With a lift of his lip, the boy stomped forward through the grasses, trying to bring himself to his full height. However, he did keep his tail against his hind legs and resisted raising it in a show of dominance, remembering both of the times Rannoch had reprimanded him. "What the fu—" he stopped himself before the word slipped out. "What is he doin' here?"