Blacktail Deer Plateau woke up on the wrong side

Donovan wanders aimlessly along the borders of his newly found territory. Renewing the potentially waning scent of his small but growing pack. The three of them: Nemisis — his partner in crime, Derg — the poor wolf who had also lost his pack that Donovan stumbled upon, and himself. It’s not much but it’s getting somewhere and the brindled male will work effortlessly to continue it.

So as he trots languidly along the borders, he slithers his muscular body against trees, hiking his leg of others, spreading his scent along the outskirts of the monstrous trees that make up the majority of the Ravensblood Forest. 

Though, as he casually lifts a leg and lets what little liquid he has left out into the trunk of an evergreen, his eyes drift along the flatter horizon. Meeting fields upon fields, then the ever massive, Whitefish River that breaks off into smaller streams into his own land. Lastly as his eyes drift upwards to the near plateau, they catch on something. An animal. Upon further examination, it seems to be another wolf.

The always undying curiosity within him screams like the devil on his shoulder to leave the great lands he means to protect and seek them out. So with his weak willpower, he does. 

Dropping his foot to the ground once more. He begins a slow trot to the stranger a casual yet mysteriously curious smile controls his face handsomely. As he approaches, possibly stopping about twenty feet away from said stranger, his nose helps him realize that the stranger before him is a she-wolf in fact. 

So he tilts his head, golden hues settling on her face, with his smile remaining. “Lost, dear? Or just wandering?” The words he speaks aren’t as teasing as he thought they’d be, rather it seems like a genuine question.