The Sentinels a winged victory for the sullen

there's a part of him that knows he's been here before, though that part is long-buried under thick scar tissue and inaccessible to him by now; still, the familiarity prickles at him in a distant sort of way. he thinks he can hear the song again now — for the first time since meeting @Tack. his friend is tucked between his shoulder blades now, quiet for once. maybe sleeping. he wonders if he could hear the music, too, if he roused him. but he's too distracted following the faint sound to act on the thought — distracted enough to place a paw carelessly once again, the same one he'd twisted not so long ago. this time his error is much tamer; nothing more than the snapping of a twig, though he overreacts for a moment anyway, remembering the last time he'd slipped up in a similar fashion.

he sucks in a breath, pausing and taking a second to assure himself he hasn't injured anything this time. the brief silence is enough to take notice of the rustling of another wolf traveling through the forest, surely not far. his attention is redirected there with little hesitation, ears perking as he glances around. he doesn't see the figure at first, so he takes several tentative steps in what he thinks is the right direction, chuffing uncertainly to announce his presence. maybe it's ghosts, some tiny buried part of him murmurs, and he shivers a little. a few more steps, though, and he does catch sight of someone — a dark wolf, formidably built from what he can see. a little intimidating, truth be told, but he feels inexplicably drawn to the stranger. he chuffs again, only a touch more confident than the first time, and stops where he is.