Altar of Twilight street trash

Weather: 11°F, mostly cloudy.

Dune had given up on going east. The snow was too heavy, the winds were too strong, and so he had made his way back through Bramblepoint and out the western edge. The mountain where he had met the black temptress loomed ahead, but he instead chose the valley just south of there as his next destination. It had been snowing most of the morning, but the winds were under control, and the mountains helped to block some of the worst gales.

Once he had found a suitable place, Dune let his haunches fold and he sat down on the snow, bright blue eyes blinking at the bright landscape around him.

Even though Tambourine had aborted mission re: Moonspear, he still found himself lingering on Wraen. He caught himself smiling over the thought of her pretty green eyes and lustrous pewter fur. Perhaps he could overcome his embarrassment over the encounter and try again. In the meantime, the yearling hung out nearby, trying to decide what to do with himself and spending entirely too much time daydreaming.

Then something pierced right through his reveries, wiping Wraen's fair face from his mind completely. Tambourine rolled from his back to his front and stood, eyes wide and nose twitching furiously. Something on the wintry wind smelled downright heavenly. It wasn't food and he couldn't place the scent. All the same, it lured him like a fish on a hook, drawing him toward a small cleft in the mountains.

He was slightly starry-eyed when he quite literally stumbled over a wolf blending in with the snow. "Oh—sorry!" Tambourine gasped, blinking to a focus as he scrambled backward. He blinked down into a pair of eyes a few shades vivider than his own. "I—do you smell that?" he wondered, tipping his snoot into the air and breathing deeply of the stiller air here between the crags.

Dune gave a disgruntled low growl when the other wolf toppled right over him, but there were worse things in this world, and at least the offender was immediately apologetic. The white wolf was about to ask the stranger what he was going on about when the smell hit his nostrils, too. He knew that smell. He had encountered it last year, though he could not remember it being so strong as it was right now. It was definitely not food, but Dune was drawn to it anyway.

He tried to recall where he had smelled it, what it had been, and what the circumstances surrounding that particular scent were. Another few sniffs of the air and it all came rushing back to him. It had been this time about a year ago when a lone female wolf had wandered close to Dune's pack. She'd had almost the same smell, and while she had teased and played with him, she had eventually departed and left him feeling rather frustrated.

The yearling glanced at the grey wolf, and without a word, he began to track down the scent's source.

The stranger made no reply (not counting his understandable warning growl), but after a momentary pause, he began exhibiting clear tracking behaviors. Hey! Tambourine thought loudly, bounding after the other male. That's my trail! His possessive thoughts took him by surprise, even causing him to stop short and blink at himself. Wha? But then the other wolf began gaining ground on him again and Tambourine surged forward again.

"What is it?" he wondered even as he caught up to the stranger. He usually loved meeting new folks, though the sideways glance he gave the other male was filled with an uncharacteristic scrutiny. He was larger than Tambourine, yet he looked a little underfed. Surely the yearling could take him in a fight... although why was he thinking about fighting?! He'd never picked one in his life!

The gray wolf asked another question about what the smell was. Dune's ear flicked back, but he didn't really hear what was said. He was too intent on finding the source of the smell, and no amount of talking or questioning was going to stop him from his one-track mind. Perhaps it should have occurred to him that the other wolf might try and steal the prize at the end of the scent rainbow, but Dune was a little too dense for that. Instead, he continued on his way, essentially ignoring the other wolf in pursuit of his quest.

The smell dissipated for a moment, and Dune paused, sniffing at the air intently. Another breeze brought the smell back to him, though, and he headed directly north toward Moonspear. The white wolf picked up the pace, going from a power walk to a steady jog to a slow canter.

His cohort ignored him again. Tambourine kept pace with him, eyes squinting slightly. Clearly they weren't going to make acquaintances today. He would've left him alone and gone the other way, if not for that darn smell. He just couldn't resist it.

As a matter of fact, he picked up the pace, bumping into the stranger quite unnecessarily in an effort to get ahead of him. The fragrance grew stronger in his nose and Tambourine felt his mouth watering. Maybe it was some sort of food, after all, something beyond his realm of experience, something tastier than he could ever have imagined...

Suddenly, the other wolf dashed toward Moonspear. Hey! Tambourine thought again, though he stopped abruptly when he saw movement on the rock wall off to their left. He swore he saw a small black face with orange eyes peeking down at him, though it vanished by the next blink.

Oblivious to the other wolf's sudden stop and turn of attention, Dune marched on, though he stopped suddenly at Moonspear's borders. He hung there, right on the edge, feeling somewhat mournful that his instincts would not let him go further. Every fiber of Dune's being wanted to lurch into Moonspear's territory and find the source of that lovely, dreamy smell, but he knew doing so would likely cost him his life. So he stood there, whining for a moment before finally breaking into a long, low, mournful howl that could have brought a grown man to tears.

He's gonna beat you to it, a voice whispered in Tambourine's head, causing his head to snap back in the direction his competition had gone. He could see him from here, straddling Moonspear's borders. He thought fleetingly of Wraen and felt a lurch of horrendous jealousy churn in his gut. He dug his remaining toes into the snow and prepared to launch after the other male, maybe even jump him to get him to shut up...

And then he saw another movement overhead. This time, he clearly saw a pixie-like face peering down at him. She looked like a wolf, only there was something exotic about the long taper of her dark muzzle. This time, she didn't immediately retreat from view. Actually, she smiled down at him and waved a petite paw, almost as if beckoning him.

The other wolf's howl faded into the background as Tambourine unthinkingly began to climb, curiosity getting the best of him. And when that unearthly scent blustered into his nostrils, fresher and stronger than ever, he veritably scrambled up the side of the mountain. He slipped and slid as he hoisted himself up the incline, jaws now slavering with slobber.

When he reached the rock shelf where he had last spotted her, Tambourine dashed forward, disappearing from view even as a girlish giggle floated down into the snowy valley below.

Silently admitting defeat, Dune turned around to see that the grey wolf had vanished. In some sense, he was glad that the stranger had not been able to find the source of the smell either (as far as Dune could tell). A heavy longing sigh escaped him as he peered up at the great mountain Moonspear once more, thoughts lingering on the girl he had met the other day here. But this was not his pack, and he would not be so foolish as to risk his own life. After one final longing glance, he set his sights on something—anything—to distract him from the flowery scent drifting down from the mountain.