Big Salmon Lake Goldwing Messenger

The golden glow of summer waned against the ushering of fall. Called up river by some strong, internal song, the salmon rushed in droves from the expansive lake. Stragglers remained, their pink flashing bodies streamlined and ever-moving beneath the clear waters. 

Artemisia sat on the shore, her tail tucked primly over her paws. The new day brought the hinting chill of changing seasons, and she turned her muzzle towards the gentle breeze. From her place on the pebbled beach, she watched the masterpiece theater of ecosystem, audience and actor alike.

Water lapped lazily toward a set of traveler's paws. The warrior trailed the shore with a searching nose, sniffing at the tracks that littered the edge of the lake. Foxfur sighed softly. There was simply too much traffic from other wolves for him to scent the prince. 

A stronger fragrance was just ahead of the ginger-masked wolf. He drew his pointed snout upward and issued a bark of a greeting to the shape upon the shore. The unknown wolf had a lovely fur coat, he thought to himself.

Artemisia angled an ear towards the bark before she turned her head. She remained seated, but kept alert, assessing the stranger with a pale blue gaze. 

A shock of sienna adorned his face, as vibrant as the leaves that had just started to turn. Sia barked a greeting of her own, her tail thumping against her feet. "Beautiful day, is it not?"

A tired smile crossed his snout, crinkling it.

Foxfur had always liked the way some could comment on a seemingly normal event, such as the weather, and seem perfectly content with it. The dusty brown of his gaze flicked over their surroundings with some modicum of scrutiny before the warrior returned it to the woman.

It is. I sometimes forget to stop and admire it.

She'd never been pessimistic of spirit. Naive, perhaps, but Artemisia was one to see good until she had a reason not to. Strangers were possibilities, and she regarded the other wolf with a kind, almost diminutive stare. 

"Those too busy to notice the world around them are often preoccupied with something." Her eyes met the other wolf's, inquisitive bordering on nosy. "Are you?"

Yes, I am.

The answer was made with honesty; a gruff, salt of the earth, genuineness.

But that does not mean I should forget to stop and admire the beauty around me. A small nod was offered by the warrior, his russet mask dipping down with his snout. Foxfur did not mind if the stranger wished to know more. The warrior had long since abandoned the need for dishonesty.

The dusty brown of his eyes searched her features with scrutiny for several seconds before he felt to ask, and you?