Wild Berry Meadow Keep the blues away

The woodland had not provided the man with anything, but he had pressed through it and into the open meadowland beyond.

Sunlight spilled from overhead. It was the first warmth in several weeks. The grass in the meadow looked lush and rigid, ready for the touch of frost that would carry winter upon its back. It would not be long before the snow would blanket those lands and silence everything around it.

Foxfur drew his head up, sniffing at the breeze, searching for the fragrance of Moonglow. His tired brown eyes hunted the distant landscape for signs of young wolves, travelers. If he could not find Crowfeather and could not find the missing members of Moonglow, he feared for his future as a warrior. Kukutux had been kind to him, and this realization left him with a lingering guilt. The young wolves had to be found.

Little bells of familiarity chimed all around the lone thief, startling her out of autopilot and into the present. Nirali slowed to a stop, surveying the meadow around her with an owlish blink as she shook off the monotonous haze of continuous travel. Yes, she recognized this place... but that had been another time, far from now. Another life, it seemed. Everything had been different back then.

Another sweeping glance over the meadow alerted her to the presence of a stranger. Another traveler, perhaps. Hello, Nirali called out, changing course to approach the other wolf and noting the alert posture, the searching gaze. Looking for something?

A woman’s voice called out to him. The warrior paused in his trek and turned to her with pricked ears. The soft brown of his eyes fixed on her unfamiliar shape with interest. She seemed to have been able to pick up that he was sniffing out a trail, not that he’d had much luck.

We have lost a few members of our clan. Children are included, and I am looking for them. You haven’t seen any wandering with young wolves have you? he inquired of her.

In that moment, Foxfur realized how foolish he felt. His reason for being there was not to chase children, though he had shouldered that task well enough. A thoughtful frown turned his lips downward. He needed to ask about the princeling, as well. If he did not spend his time looking for Crowfeather, he was disobeying his duties as a warrior of the Starsea.

I seek another, a dark yearling called Crowfeather. He is one of my own, from a home far from here. He must return.