Fairspell Meadow the end where we start

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The release had gone well enough — even if he had no idea what was going on or what the strange, two-legged creatures were doing. The fabric that had been wrapped around his eyes and muzzle had been uncomfortable and he was thankful they were now gone, but the collar around his neck remained. Atreyu stopped every few minutes to gnaw at it, awkwardly pressing his nose into his chest in an attempt to dislodge the thing. It wasn't painful, but he certainly didn't like it. Why it was even there he had no clue. Neither did he know what on earth had really happened between feeling a sting in his behind a few weeks back and now.

The boy paused, glancing back in the direction he had come from. Had it only been days since his release? Or was it only hours? Time was a blur. He was just thankful that he was back home, away from noise and needles and lights and confusion. He just wanted to forget the whole thing, despite the reminder that was wrapped around his neck. He wanted to get back to Moonspear, reunite with Charon and Floki and Thistle. If they were still there.

He pushed the nerves away, instead focusing on making his way through the snow-covered meadow — or hopping, rather. The creatures who had "kidnapped" him had messed with his stump too, and wrapped it in gauze that he continuously licked at. It would disintegrate in time, though Atreyu didn't know that. He paused again, settling onto his haunches and enjoying the rare sun-break, while again nibbling and tearing at the strange fabric, repelled by the taste but eager to rid himself of these alien things. Then he could return to his home.

Hello! Would you mind if I used this for my scouting trade?

With a pack at her back readily supplying food, Quiet felt comfortable enough to stretch her legs beyond the boundaries of that unsettling woods. She was not a creature of the night, of shadow, of darkness, or whatever criteria most of the other wolves who lived there fit. She was not a killer of her own kind. She simply knew how to watch, to listen, to learn. That was enough for her to be accepted, but not enough for her to feel truly at home there. Quiet wanted to wander, to scout out, to learn more about this realm she had recently made her (temporary) home. Thus, she left the boundaries of the woods, if for a little while.

South-and-west she roamed, into the broad meadow that stretched past the Mire that dominated half of the pack's territory (still, who would seriously live so close to a swamp?). From the tufts of grass and hibernating flowers, she could tell it was an ordinary meadow, though had it not been for the snow that still covered the flat ground, she would have seen the damages of natural disaster still scarring the land. 

Quiet waded through the snow, which was high to her, but would mean nothing to larger, pureblooded wolves. Her mismatched eyes constantly wandered from place to place on the horizon, looking for anything of interest. The coywolfdog paused in her tracks, her nose sniffing furiously as she recognized a familiar scent. The scent of the strange two-legged creatures that had dominated her pack's home. She was not afraid, though a bit surprised. She had only smelled them in the east, in the geyser-filled land of her youth. Never had she thought they would be this further west. Curious, Quiet followed the trail to its source, noticing that the scent of a wolf was closely intertwined with the two-legs' scent.

It led her to the three-legged wolf. Quiet's head tilted curiously as she watched the wolf hobble from afar. She wouldn't dare intervene with his hilarious way of travelling unless he made her. She was content to watch, and snigger.

Of course not! :D

He kept his nose to the ground as he travelled, taking in the scents of the Wilds, trying to pick up any trails of those he knew. He at least remembered where Moonspear was and was headed in that general direction, but he was eager to see the pack again and hoped one — anyone, even the members from that mountain pack they had merged with — would be heading out this way. In the dead of winter? If anything, they would probably be keeping close to their home, at least until the snow eased off a little.

Atreyu shook out his coat after standing up again, stumbling as he threw himself off balance. He was currently unaware of the audience he had attracted, focusing instead on trying not to break anything before he could reach Moonspear again. Regaining his composure, the boy nibbled again at the gauze around his leg before casting a dismissive glance backwards before he would head onwards.

He did a double take as he suddenly noticed the small speck of red in the distance, standing out clearly against the white of the field. He peered at it, trying to figure out if the creature was coyote or wolf. How long had it been there? Staying rooted to the spot, he watched, unsure how to react to the other's staring.

Quiet watched the curious creature hobble, wondering what manner of wolf it was. What was it looking for? Was it searching for something - or someone - nearby? Was it an enemy of the pack? Burke had not told her who was allied with the pack and who were enemies, leaving the waif to believe that everyone was (what other pack would ally with a cult of murderers and (hypothetical) nymphomaniacs?). Her suspicions raised, Quiet trailed the creature, slowly getting closer as it moved further west - towards Blackfeather Woods.

When it finally spotted her, Quiet froze. She was closer to it now and could make out some of its feature, but not close enough. Quiet liked it this way. Her dual-toned eyes kept fixated on the wolf as it stared back at her. She became a statue, only moving when its gaze had turned away from her presence.

He kept his gaze upon her lithe form, eyes narrowing slightly as she stared back at him. There was a sizeable distance between them, but the fact that he didn't know how long she had been spying on him made Atreyu nervous and wary. The fact that she hadn't made any sort of introduction caused all the more suspicion. Just as she was wondering if he was an enemy, he too regarded her as a stranger to be cautious of.

He kept up their staring contest for a few moments before he let his ears and tail relax slightly to show he wasn't a threat. Perhaps she was a loner. Wolves got opportunistic and desperate without a pack behind them, even more so in winter, so Atreyu kept his guard up despite letting her know he didn't mean her harm.

Though they were a considerable distance away, Quiet could see the three-legged wolf's change in posture. The creature's ears and tail drooped slightly, showing her that he meant no harm. Ah, so he assumed she was being hostile. Quiet made no change in her body language or her unyielding stare. She walked closer, her eyes blinking slowly as the cripple became clearer in her vision. Her head tilted slightly as she took in his features, though she hoped that the wind would change, allowing her to smell the wolf better. She had little knowledge of the packs other than her own. Perhaps it would be time that this changed.

Immediately, his hackles raised again as she began to pace closer, no message in her body language indicated that she wasn't a threat either. Atreyu took a single step back cautiously, lifting a lip as he did so. He wasn't usually so aggressive, but the whole two-legged creature incident and time away from the wild had shaken him up, made him all the more suspicious of strangers. The other's head quirked slightly, and the boy let out a rough bark to the unnerving stranger. "What do you want?" he demanded with a growl.

Since Atreyu went inactive I'm tagging an end to this thread.

She approached the creature, ignoring the aggression in his tone. Even if he did attack, Quiet could outrun him: he was a cripple after all. She could run circles around this creature and not be in any danger. Her nose twitched inquisitively as she breathed in his scent. With little knowledge of the other packs, his scent wouldn't tell her much, but it didn't help to have a pretense. She circled him, ignoring his question (as she had no way of answering), smelling his scent, especially his stump of a leg. It was the pungent odor that emanated from there that intrigued her the most. Certainly, the wolf didn't know what this was. It didn't smell like anything a wolf would use for healing. Though as quickly and silently as she came, she left, bolting through the meadow soon after she took a whiff of the leg. It smelled of them. It was the one smell she didn't want to ever sense again. And Quiet was glad as soon as the wolf was out of her sight. He was damned that one.