Up through Otter Creek and just beyond the mountain range, Kove found himself loitering within a forest that had a similar appearance to home. Although it was not quite as dark and the stench of foxes was thick in the air, it was not entirely unpleasant. Though, truthfully, he was not a creature built for the dark anyways; he was born in the far north into a body made from alabaster. He stood out in the darkness, a true ghost amongst the shadows, and that was something that would never change.
Nevertheless, he proceeded through the woodlands, careful to avoid any foxes; he did not feel like dealing with them or their antics today, and would not tolerate it in even the slightest bit. All was well, thankfully, with the lesser canines keeping away and allowing him to continue uninterrupted.
August 22, 2018, 03:07 PM
She's still not thinking about it, so she wanders farther from IkKanattuk. Her travels are punctuated by returns to the territory, a few days of resting and putting prey in the caches, but she can't quite tame her need to be on the move for long.
There's nothing remarkable about the forest at first glance, aside the thick scent of fox in the air. She's entered from the meadow, quickly losing sight of the mountains looming on the other side of the trees. But the place is agreeable enough, and she doesn't know yet if she means to cross over the mountains. She carries on west with this internal debate; it would be an unwise decision, but such an affinity runs through her veins.
She catches the scent of the stranger belatedly, and considers moving to intercept the other wolf. Contemplating turns out to be pointless a few moments later — her natural path has taken her within sight of... yet another white wolf. She cocks her head to the side automatically and hesitates, intrigued at this fresh-budding pattern in her life. He's large and aged, simply walking as she is; it's the lack of room for assumption that draws her farther forward ultimately, chuffing to announce herself even if he's already seen her.
There's nothing remarkable about the forest at first glance, aside the thick scent of fox in the air. She's entered from the meadow, quickly losing sight of the mountains looming on the other side of the trees. But the place is agreeable enough, and she doesn't know yet if she means to cross over the mountains. She carries on west with this internal debate; it would be an unwise decision, but such an affinity runs through her veins.
She catches the scent of the stranger belatedly, and considers moving to intercept the other wolf. Contemplating turns out to be pointless a few moments later — her natural path has taken her within sight of... yet another white wolf. She cocks her head to the side automatically and hesitates, intrigued at this fresh-budding pattern in her life. He's large and aged, simply walking as she is; it's the lack of room for assumption that draws her farther forward ultimately, chuffing to announce herself even if he's already seen her.
"Common" | "French"
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