Silverlight Terrace judea

Travel through the lowlands was far easier, of course, than the mountains above. The slope of the earth was far easier to traverse than erratic ridge lines or the occasional drop in to a pit of snow, as he had learned - though he would be at home there, too. Lazarus was built for mountain peaks; likened to a boulder in his youth, but coated in a winter pelt. He was a shard of tundra incarnate. This was no tundra - nor even a taiga - but far more temperate. The boy had been briefly lured to the seaside days ago, creeping along the sand bar as quietly as his buxom self could, but there was no meal there. In the haste to fill his belly, Lazarus had moved inland with the hope of finding something to rend and consume, but found this terrace lacking. He did not wish to stop roaming, although to stop and wait was pertinent to hunting anything. There were small things here - rabbits, mice, bird nests - all of which turned his stomach. He was a beast of particular tastes, and would leave this patch of the wilds unimpressed.

Sage had ventured away from Moonlit, at first she secluded herself deep inside the pack territory, hoping the eerie hollows would heal her emotion, but her attempt failed, so now she hoped new land would bring her some light. Ever since Issun well...fucked her Alpha, betraying her trust, she wasn't sure she could handle being around either one of them. She had yet to ever expirence heat so the instinct the procreate was something she had yet to understand. While roaming the Great Bear Wilderness she stumbled upon the scent of someone new, ah, just what the young wolf needed. Someone who could keep her mind from going back to it's less appealing depths. She followed the smell, later coming across a white wolf a couple of yards away. She inched closer, her trot slowing to an allegro walk, until coming to a stop. "Hello, there.

After every few feet he traveled, the pale beast would drop his head and inspect the ground, or find the wind upon the wetness of his nose, and turn to meet it; to taste it with his tongue and orient himself in all manner of strange ritual. It was by chance that a stranger had found him - because surely it was not skill, finding a beast such as him (big, shining white, and loud in every aspect) was less a sign of ability and more a fact of life. Lazarus was oblivious to her, though. So busy was he to find his way to food - and not assisted in any manner by the wind, which blew entirely in Sage's favor - he remained ignorant of her slinking approach until she was but feet from him, and speaking.

As a being of force, Lazarus reacted to the sudden appearance of the dark creature in the way he had learned: upon hearing her, he turned himself to face her; she was still not within range of his teeth, but had she been, surely that would have been his manner of greeting. Instead, the beast's tail shot out behind him and began to flick, his ears pivoted to cup her voice, and a thin lip was raised in warning -- keep away his posture said, i am dangerous, he hoped she'd understand.