Redsand Canyon as the building continues to burn

if the north had something in common with the desert, it was the quiet. a different sort of quiet. the snow swallowed up the sound, left everything white and frozen; the desert was the furthest possible thing from frozen, and the quiet came from the empty heat. everything hiding away in burrows or under rocks, not concerned about the veritable army donovan and nemisis had managed to antagonize in the last month.

they would never wish the same, of course; while they preferred a leader capable of holding her tongue until they had the bite to back up their bark, it promised to be an intriguing time.

speaking of desert quiet. the crunch of rock behind them stole their attention; unlike the catacombs the other night, one ear swiveled sedately back, followed by the rest of their head. for a moment, as they turned, thought it might be donovan, looking to cash in on their promise – but there was no mistaking him for the stranger who emerged. they hadn’t seen so much as a glimpse of him all day.

renard felt slightly better about his priorities.

they gave her a nod, noting the abundance of spines lodged in her fur. she was passingly recognizable despite her new adornments – the late arrival to their little exploration, returning just in time to take her place in the audience for a thrilling round of romantic rivalry. shame they were wolves and so lacked the accompanying popcorn.

“carefully.” no room for brushing against things that could snap or rustle when there was prey set in front of you, when that prey was another wolf. “i saw you at our…meeting…but i don’t think i got your name.” they dipped their muzzle. “renard.”