Blackfoot Forest Our Names Won't Be Remembered

For @Jaguara :D

The Greek did not know where he was going, nor did he have a clue as to where he would end up. He was simply walking, unconsciously committing the paths taken to memory, as was something of a habit of his now. His mind was truly preoccupied, however. He'd met some interesting wolves, but knew not where he could go. Alastor was never meant to be a lone wolf, as social of a being as he was, but he didn't quite know where to go next. He considered trying to find the white-eyed male's home, and then Aesop's, but in the end decided to just continue on wandering and see where he ended up. Doing that often seemed to turn to his favor, so it was the best shot he had. His current trek didn't appear to know that, though, as the boy soon found himself moving deeper and deeper into a dark forest. Why he hadn't turned around the second he noticed how dark the area was becoming was beyond him, and after a few more steps he deemed it too late to turn back. Besides, the argent wolf did not fear the dark.

The light of the moon was only given a few places to peek through at, and even those were nowhere close to being generous. It didn't take all too long before he heard the loud cries and screams of the foxes—a sound he would probably dislike for as long as he lived. Foxes were vile creatures in his mind. They were murderers who held nothing against stealing away a young wolf. Of course, his side of reasoning practically forced him to give others a chance, since not all of a single species were exactly the same, but he never enjoyed doing so. Each step taken was filled with the hope of not running into a vulpine of any sort, and to make it out of the forest as soon as he possibly could.