King Elk Forest Jokers dressing up as kings

A calm, cool wind heralded the arrival of morning as the very top edge of the sun peeked over the eastmost treetops. Gold and tangerine spread fingers across the still-dark sky, drawing Wylla's attention up from her feet to the sparse clouds overhead. Tsk. She hadn't meant to keep walking through the night, but it seemed like a better use of time than trying to sleep on a mostly empty stomach. This way, she had a chance of finding something. In dreams she only found wanting.

By the time the sun burned over the tallest forests of the hinterlands, the lone wanderer picked up the scent of others. Not so many others as the last few packs she'd tested. Redhawk Caldera might be full of selfish, pompous sorts like Towhee, but it was undeniably full, with the combined aromas of many. The scents drifting toward her on wafting winds was significantly less, and that made her chances significantly better.

With a tug of her lips into a wry grin, the mottled she-wolf quickened her pace until she located the source: a sprawling forest of huge trees, though nothing like those of her coastal origin, which dwarfed all others. The pack that resided here was small, seven or eight individuals at most from what she could smell, thanks to the lack of border presence of both their oldest and newest members. Confident that she would have no issues here if only because she didn't think a pack of this size could be choosy, Wylla pitched her thin muzzle to the sky and sent out a high-toned call.

Depending how one of my other threads progresses, Wylla might try to join Moonspear instead, so this is tentative for now. If it turns out that way I'll make this thread worthwhile in another way, promise!