Phantom Hollow but i'm drawn to the wilder nights at home

AW

Fog rolled about him, captivating him and yet stirring a tremor of trepidation along his spine.  Constantine did not explore often – but as of late, the youth found himself more curious about the world, and given next month he would be placed in the adult ranks of the pack, he wanted to ensure he made a decent contribution and made his parents proud.
 
His dark limbs had carried him without rhyme or reason except to take in what Teekon Wilds had to offer. He had been gone for over a day now – but the morning was young when it found him in the Hollow, a white mist swirling about his slowly bulking form. Bright eyed pierced through the thick fog, trying to decipher what was reality and what was illusion – and his brown fur was dampening.
 
So far, he was more than content at the land his family resided in.. it was far superior to this.

Behati, by contrast, knew nothing but travel and explosions. She spent exactly three days within the pack's claim before heading out, telling herself that a good pack wolf kept stock of the territories surrounding her family.

Like Constantine, she was disoriented by the fog. It was like moving through a solid wall, and her steps became short and searching. Up ahead, the fog swirled suspiciously - Behati's ears rose into sharp points, and her lungs pulled sharply on the damp air. Quietly, slowly, she stalked forward.

He continued along, though his steps were more calculated than the usual lope. He did not hear the other’s pawfalls, but rather the faintest scent tantalized his nostrils, and the wolf stole a sharp glance around.
 
His fiery eyes fell upon nothing – and the swirl of fog indicated that the shadows toying with him were no more than corporeal. Still, his senses were alerted, and stilling, the boy swung his muzzle back, his eyes narrowing as he attempted to decipher just who was in the fog with him. “Hello?” His voice seemed quiet in that moment – and he paused, waiting to see if the shadows would answer him.

A boy's voice. Behati crouched low when he spoke, ears twisting around the words in an attempt to decipher which direction they had come from. There was a vague scent in the air, but she did not associate it with the Plateau - she could not pick her pack mates out of a crowd unless the scent of her new homestead was thick and obvious upon them.
 
Friend or not, she decided to mess with the guy. Why not? He was just a kid, and the tremor in his voice suggested that he was alone. Behati crept backwards a few steps, readied her voice, and let slip a low, zombie-like moan. "Ooouuueeeehhhh..."

LOL totally up to you if he grabs anything or not.. or, even if he lunges in the right direction. ;)

The fine black guard hairs along the boys spine rose at the ghoulish moan -- and Constantine froze. His bright eyes drifted throughout the swirling fog, attempting to decipher exactly where the sound came from.. or what it could be.
 
As far as the Mayfair boy was concerned, he had only a few options before him. Sit still, and try not to pee his pants. Run, and hope he found himself out of this mess.. or  prove he had some guts, and fight.
 
he chose the latter -- the idea of turning and running with his tail between his legs sickened him, and he definitely didn't want to pee himself. With a snarl that bubbled from his chest, the dark chocolate wolf spun, his jaws gaping as he lunged toward where the sound had been, attempting to thrust his entire weight forward and snap his teeth to grasp flesh.