Fox's Glade wendigo
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All Welcome 
The still of the dale was soothing. The isolated territory abated much of his skittish state into a jittering breath that fell from his lips in quiet huffs. Small plumes rose from his nostrils and drifted slackly until they ebbed into the darkness. Tadec was not as fearful there, for the scent of fox was stronger than that of the wolf, and a small stream crept over dark grey stones. The coywolf paused and bent his neck to drink, savoring the way the gelid water sated his parched state.

A crow sounded overhead, cackling wickedly against the wind. Tadec's pointed muzzle was lifted to spy on the ominous symbol before it shuddered against the air and took flight with the catch of its pitch feathers. The thief ran his tongue against the dark hairs of his muzzle to collect remaining droplets before he picked his way across the small stream and continued on the other side.
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The territories surrounding Bearclaw Valley were like a second home to Laurel in her period of heat. She was always looking to see if she could find any boys; Bearclaw Valley had little of them and those it did have were booo-ring and not too easy to find in her experience. If they didn't want to find her, then well, she wasn't going to try and find them. She'd get her boys elsewhere.

Like Fox Glade. There were many scents of foxes but little of wolves that she could find. It seemed by sheer luck that she happened to spot a figure in the distance of the secluded territory. The scent of fox still overpowered that of his but she was certain that the same could not be said for her powerful fragrance. Laurel's body remained neutral as her ears perked forward and she called out "Hey there!" with a timid sort of enthusiasm to her voice and a gentle wag of her tail as she approached the wolf beside the stream.
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/crying - i had no idea u responded to this <333333333333333333333333333333333333333
A call cut short his attempt to retreat into the wood. The length of his ears swiveled briskly atop his skull and he pointed his muzzle in her direction with a stiff-legged fear. The words were friendly enough, Tadec knew that he should not have been too concerned, but the female had come from his rear and he had not scented her before her voice had rung. The fiery russet fur along his shoulders stood erect and bristled against the backdrop of dark coal. Latching his sights to her features, Tadec found that she easily could have overpowered him. She was a full-fledged wolf.

Realizing that it would not have been wise to be rude to this wolfess, the thief dipped his muzzle toward the earth – protecting his throat and offering respect. “Greetings,” he rumbled in a timbre that was a startling contrast to the limber shape of his figure and the sharp jutting of his bones.
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There was a fear in his actions when he heard her approach, and Laurel could not hide a bemused smile as she realised this. She enjoyed power, and she wanted power. That was why she enjoyed her heat so much — it gave her power over others, and made them pawns for her to do with as she pleased.

Yet he did not run, stayed his place, and greeted her right back. "What're you doing here?" asked Laurel, the tone in her voice soft and friendly as she took a few tentative steps closer, her tail waving in a friendly gesture. "Are you lost? You don't look like a fox."
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The drab female was a curious one. She asked him a few short questions and one of his ears swiveled atop his crown before fixing forward once more. Burning eyes roamed over the shape of her figure and he found that she was appealing in her own right, for the figure of a wolf. The hazel of her gaze was drawing, if anything. The thief shook his head at her final question. No, not lost, “hunting.” His voice slipped through a narrow muzzle and he cast his head to the side. Though he was not searching for the foxes of the glade, but the form of another wolf. “Looking for wolf called Tiel'c,” he then added with a small, ghostly little smile. His smoky frame moved toward her a few tentative steps before pausing and then tilting his head slowly to the left.

“You lost?” Tadec then asked her, curiously. If the glade was where the wolves went when they were lost, he would have admitted to mistake and departed, but he was curious why she would ask him such a question, only to be wandering the meadow on her own, just as he.
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When he said 'hunting', Laurel figured that he meant he was looking for foxes. What else would anyone come here to hunt? She was curious to find that he was hunting for a wolf with a curious name, and tilted her head. "What a strange name," she said, though this remark was a bit of a slip of tongue as she was playing the sweet girl role. She grinned sheepishly then and went on to say with a sweeter tone of voice: "Such a funny place to hunt for wolves, I mean.. considering pretty much all I smell here is foxes." And me, she thought to herself, but she wouldn't say that, of course. That was the conclusion her words intended him to find on his own.

As he asked if she was lost it seemed he drew from his shell a little bit more. She shook her head. "I live 'round the corner from here." She gestured in Bearclaw Valley's general direction. Then, with a soft smile on her face still: "I'm Laurel. What's your name?"
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The beige girl remarked that his father's moniker was strange, but Tadec did not stir at the sound of it. He had never been fond of any piece of the man, let alone his calling. The stranger then proceeded to claim that the glade was not an appropriate place to hunt for wolves, but rather foxes. The thief tilted his head just so and blinked slowly at her. “But you are here,” he counterpointed in a confused tone. A fox in disguise, he thought with a modicum of interest, watching her frame for any signs that she clutched a secret shape beneath her tan hide. If that were to be his argument, he was there too, and shared no blood with the sneaky little reddish creatures of the brambles.

Quick to change the subject, the unnamed woman shed light on her own calling and then inquired his own. She had mentioned that she belonged to the pack nearby and he darted his gaze in the direction she referenced with a single swiveling ear. The hybrid flicked his tongue across his nose and dipped his muzzle only just before fixing her with a molten stare once more. “Laurel,” he tested her name and a ghostly little smile lingered on the corners of his lips. “I am called Tadec.”
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"So?" Laurel asked, looking equally confused now. Why did it matter that she was here? That didn't change that everything smelled like foxes around here. The fuck was this guy getting at? He wasn't a lot of fun, but for now she'd keep up the mask of dumb but cute girl. "Well, I guess it doesn't really matter." There, case closed.

They moved on to the introductions then. "Tadec," she repeated, then asked: "Why are you looking for that guy? What'd he do?" She wasn't sure if he was looking for him in a bad kind of way, of course; maybe they were brothers, or whatever. But nothing about this guy seemed very pleasant so far, so Laurel would find it surprising if this was some sort of heartfelt quest for someone he actually liked.
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The girl seemed as though his point was invalid and stated so in a single word. He gaped at her a moment, flustered by the inquiry, and splayed his ears atop his crown. One paw was lifted defensively, but he placed it on the ground and allowed that particular conversation fall dead between them. She seemed to find the same conclusion in a few short words and he awkwardly shuffled his feet, wondering if she would want something more from him. Tadec found nothing of interest on her, and so he thought of turning and bidding the wolf farewell.

His name against her tongue was peculiar to him, but he accepted it with a swift nod of his head and a small, shriveled smile. Then, she inquired why he would search for Tiel'c, and what he might have done to warrant such a chase. Immediately the coywolf became troubled and stiff. His brows knitted over his eyes and he opened his mouth to answer, unable to find the words in her tongue. From the ground to her face, his gaze roamed. “He killed my mother,” the thief responded.
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Laurel soon came to the conclusion that this guy wasn't particularly interesting or lively. He was pretty boring, actually, and seemed only minorly influenced by her scent, if at all. Like he had something better to do. Tchk. His answer sent a chill through her spine as she hadn't expected such a dark and broody answer. What was he even going to do when he found the guy? The question lingered on the tip of her tongue and she opened her mouth to say it, but then...

"Oh. Good luck." She smiled awkwardly and then said, "I should head home. Good luck, see ya." She didn't really think -- or hope -- that she'd see him again, because he seemed altogether rather boring and on some broody quest for vengeance as far as she could tell. Laurel turned 'round and started to leave, assuming he'd do the same and return to his quest now.
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The admittance did not seem to do him well with the girl. She responded rather awkwardly, which led to the shuffling of his small feet and the swiveling of his large ears. Feeling that this was because she had not found any sort of particular fondness with him, he did not attempt to stop her in her retreat. Instead, Tadec offered a polite waver of his tail and a small, ghostly smile.
 
Just like that, the beige female wandered away from him and toward her home. She bid him luck on his journey, but the thief did not understand how this would assist him in any reasonable way. Still, the phrase had formerly been intended with good nature. Tadec did not think that she was troublesome, and so he turned himself – in an opposite direction – and slinked away to hide in the shadows.