Grouse Thicket I want a ticket to anywhere

@Clarence

It had begun to rain by the time Bronco reached the thicket, and though it was cool, he supposed the smell of wet earth and the sound of the rain might help him while he hunted. He didn't want to exhaust the resources or over-hunt the prey that roamed within the pack's borders or the lands within a close proximity, so he'd ventured out a bit further- not so far that he'd use up more energy than he would gain from a meal, though. That was the trick to thriving- try to take in as many calories as he could without having to push himself too hard to get them. In exchange, he'd begun to fill out a bit, and was transitioning from a lanky adolescent to a boxy, fit adult. 

There was a soft rumble of thunder in the distance, causing his ears to turn. He hadn't heard thunder in a long time- as thunderstorms had seemed to shy away from the cold of winter. It was a nice reminder that warmer weather was on the way, and beneath the grey sky the land seemed to relish the moisture, growing a bit more green every day. It was the first time he would actually get to experience what it was like to watch winter fade as spring grew, and he found he enjoyed it. He liked the smell of spring, the scent of wet moss, new grass, mouldy leaves...All of it. 

The one scent that was somewhat missing was that of the grouse, which normally frequented the thicket. Perhaps the thunder had frightened them into roosting elsewhere, he wasn't sure, or perhaps he was just having a difficult time tracking one down due to the rain, but he roved this way and that, head down, trying to pick up the scent of a grouse, with little success. Still, he persevered, hoping to find something worth the trip he'd taken out to the thicket.

Thank you for getting this up c:

Really, Clarence had lost track of time. He knew he was far from his territory, not that he was fully sure where that began and ended, or how to tell. The boy wasn't even one hundred percent sure how to ask the question on how to tell what borders were. All he could do was hope he didn't break any rules, because apparently there were lots of these packs to watch out for and all of them had borders, which was confusing to the boy. Why would anyone want to box themselves in like that? Like they were in a cage?

It felt like Clarence had blinked and magically appeared in this place, with tightly-packed trees and the threat of a thunderstorm above. His head ached slightly, the throbbing behind his skull a constant in his daily life now. When and where that began, he didn't know. It wasn't like he had kept track of his life that well so far.

Rain was a strange concept to Clarence, as well. When he thought of water, harsh, cold memories came to mind. Nothing good, like this heavy air and rumble from the sky and clouds overhead that he could just see beyond the trees.

Clarence's identifying bracelet jingled on his wrist as he continued through the grove. It was quiet, and he wasn't really watching where he was going. Miraculously, he had yet to slam into any trees.

When a breeze combed through the thicket, causing the bushes to shudder, Bronco stiffened, straightening to interrogate the wind and see what secrets it carried but found there was nothing that smelled very edible. He ran his tongue over his lips and nose, hoping to sharpen his sense of smell, but the moisture lingering about the thicket seemed to work against him, and the scent of the flora overwhelmed the scent of any fauna in the area. He was disappointed. He knew his mother was going to give birth soon, and he wanted to bring something back for her as she was becoming less and less mobile. 

A sparse cloud of fog drifted through on the breeze, obscuring his vision and causing him to get slightly turned around, as the thicket was more or less a wild hedge maze and could be difficult to navigate for those who weren't familiar with the area. The swirling wind, aimless and unfaithful, was no aid in helping him get a sense of direction, and he ended up meandering off in a bit of a circle before he happened upon his own set of pawprints. He recoiled, and ventured off in another direction, but froze when the mist was pulled aside like a curtain, revealing, in the distance, a pale spectre. 

The long-limbed figure has a pelt like none other Bronco had seen before, which immediately made him somewhat suspicious of him. While he was fully aware of the fact that he'd lived a relatively sheltered life, this male's appearance struck him as being something unsettling and unnerving, simply because it was different. There were no other wild creatures that looked like that, as far as he knew. From the patchwork pelt he had, to the curl of his tail, Bronco found himself wondering exactly what it was about the male that made him so strikingly different from the generic patterns he normally encountered. 

But then, when the male turned his head slightly, he took note of the male's vacant gaze- and noticed that his eyes were the colour of blood. It was like he was something out of a nightmare, though...He looked young, as though he was somewhere handy to Bronco's age. Only after a few moments did he notice the metallic clank that accompanied the male's step, and saw the thing on his leg. It wasn't natural. There was so much about him that just didn't seem natural. So Bronco stood, the hair raised along his nape and spine, and stared, not quite believing the sight he saw before him- and wondered if somehow, he was dreaming.

It was beginning to occur to the boy that he might be lost. These trees were dense, like a maze, like the bars on the cages that he suddenly recalls in vivid detail. Cold, metallic, bloody, confining. But this wasn't like that, he reminded himself - it was less cold, and he was free to go wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Except there were packs and borders and territories, and he didn't know what those things meant, and he was going to ruin this. Santiago was going to be disappointed, he thought desparingly. Maybe he was wrong to let Clarence follow him. 

The jingling of the bracelet grated on his ears and he had to pause and take a deep breath to calm himself down. There was no real risk of him lashing out at anyone or anything right now - there was no sign of life in this place beside the trees. They grew and died, so those must be alive, right? Clarence didn't want to hurt them, either. He didn't want to hurt anybody.

How many people had he hurt before?

A familiar sense of unbelonging overwhelmed him. He didn't fit in here - he was different. Anyone who looked at him could tell. The red of his eyes was like the blood that spilled in the rings. Clarence couldn't stand the sight of them in his reflection. Everything about his body screamed fake, unnatural, manufactured. And for the first time, the boy wondered what did they create me for?

Was he meant just to kill?

And then he snapped out of it. The scent of another wolf entered his nose and he turned his head to see another boy, perhaps around his age, staring at him. Brown fur was standing on end along his nape - he kind of looked like he'd seen a ghost. But in that moment, this boy was Clarence's savior.

"Hi! Hey," he greeted, bouncing toward the other wolf, his curled tail waving happily and red eyes no longer vacant. "I'm lost - does this forest go on forever?" Were they stuck in there forever, was what he meant to ask. Completely unaware of the effect his appearance had on the other wolf, Clarence was smiling brightly, excited to meet a new person, even in the neverending forest.

The last thing Bronco expected was what ended up happening. As soon as he was spotted, Bronco expected either to be ignored, or that the piebald male might charge toward him to chase him off. He skittered back a few steps when suddenly, the young male bounded toward him, in an almost playful manner. Bronco might have responded in kind had the male not bourne a physique that made him feel unsettled, but he realized quickly how wrong he might have been to judge so quickly, based on the fact that he'd never seen anyone like this before. 

At first, he wondered if maybe the relief the male put on was to set him at ease, so as to catch him off guard, as some sort of ploy...But he reminded himself that the world was not so cruel, and honestly, there was nothing that felt out of place about the relief his companion exhibited. He didn't seem to be acting or faking, and if he was- Bronco would've had to admit that he was fooled. Still, he wasn't completely lulled into a sense of security, and remained somewhat stiff- though he did deign to answer. 

"Uhm...No," He said, "It doesn't go on forever," He clarified. Even the sound of that statement was ridiculous- how could anywhere go on forever? But maybe this guy was just exaggerating. Maybe he had a few screws loose, though; how was he to know? "I'm pretty sure...Well, West is a plateau...East is mountains, and North-west-ish is the ocean, but..." He said, lifting his head slightly to gaze toward the sky- which was grey, and ambiguous. "S'kinda hard to tell which way is which." He admitted, bashfully turning his ears back. He omitted the fact that his pack was to the South-east, of course. "Where are you, uhm, going?" He asked.