Haunted Wood you’d think smelling like lemon zest would be pretty neat

One week he said. Just one week until he was expected to spar. That day was just around the corner. It was only a matter of time before the warlord would show up. And what had Phillip done to prepare? Nothing. He didn't know where to begin and he was too terrified to do so. But he couldn't be beat around the bush any longer. There must be someone here willing to teach him. 

Phillip shuffled through the woods with his head hung low. Hello? he called out weakly.

his interest in serem's milk had already wilted away, and he'd done enough unsupervised exploring to be familiar with the territory. most of the adults were familiar now, too, which made the move into the rendevouz site nice and simple.

famine's path might have lead to a nearby cache, had it not been for the mysterious voice of a stranger. curious about the sound, he called back — ciao, ciao — and started walking in its direction.

sure enough, the culprit soon came into view. famine tilted his head to one side and then the other, examining the cowardly silhouette. ciao, ciao, he repeated, voice much quieter than it had been before.

Someone answered, though he had yet to see that someone. Hello? He slowly spun in a circle to survey the surroundings. Not a wolf in sight. Maybe they were just as frightened as him. Probably not, but if that were the case he said: Um, it's alright. You can come out.

He spins towards the sound of rustling undergrowth. It's not a savage warrior he expected to see, but a pudgy little pup. Not the kind of wolf he was looking for, but he definitely wasn't complaining. This was the perfect excuse to not train after all.

Awwww. Phillip had never seen a whelp this small before. It was strange, but in a cute sort of way. He smiled and wagged his tail. What are you doing all the way out here?

the apparition spoke and famine stared blankly. had he done something wrong? the question implied he had, but phillip's steadily wagging tail told a different story. thinking too much about what the whole thing meant made famine's head hurt, and so he decided to ignore logic.

instead, he walked confidently up to his packmate and reared upward, hoping to push against the man's side rather than fall back onto the ground. how long had it been since his last play session?