Phantom Hollow sweet potato pie

While the unknown Dune slept and dreamed of home, another pale figure continued his trek through the wood. His ears would swivel wildly atop his skull in an attempt to catch the sound of potential approaching bodies, but the hollow was so silent that he found himself only growing more uneasy. He could not even smell the saline breeze that he had grown so familiar with. Tired, his limbs shivered against the cold air and he swayed along the lengthy stilts.

Smokestep plodded on, looking for a place where he would feel safe enough to rest for the night. As he delved deeper through the hollow, a strange scent wafted through his nostrils and he stood rigid. It was another wolf, but the lingering aroma was almost washed away entirely. Smokestep wondered if the other wolf was still even in the vicinity. Without much thought to it, the pale wanderer took to following after the scent, struggling to pick it up.