Despite the winter wind, Denzel didn’t feel very cold. And his fur wasn’t even particularly thick either. Maybe it was some sort of in-born resistance he had to it, from times he couldn’t remember as a pup. Had he lived in the snow? He knew he had been /found/ in the snow by his adopted mother . . . He made a face. It had been a while since he thought about Mom.

About on the lower hills, he wound his way in a sort of “patrolling” movement, though there was hardly any need. The mountains were hard for inexperienced wolves to traverse, so it wasn’t as if Aves had doubts of invaders during the winter – especially in the middle of it. But without doing /something/ Denzel would be forced to feel the hollowness he had had settle within him since fall. So he walked . . . and walked . . . and walked with just that smidge of purpose, his necklace bouncing with each slow step.

Winter was here once again. It made her heart light and airy, much like the weather she walked in. Myrle was from far up north, where snow was almost a constant, so her fur was a lot thicker and fluffier than a wolf's down here. The cold didn't bother her in the slightest. What was bothering her, is upon her travels, she happened upon her old mate, Chagrin. Only, he was with another girl. It was bound to happen, with his looks and personality, he was a catch. A catch she was stupid enough to give up. She didn't like staying put. He knew that when they'd been together, he'd been OK with that. It was a mutual break up; one they were both sad about at first, but it was a good thing in the end. They wouldn't have made it with her itchy feet. Chagrin as the settle down and have a family type.

She'd honestly tried that and it just didn't work. It wasn't for her. She stopped by to see her grandpups with Jayel. Those babies were so beautiful, nothing like herself. They took so much after their dad. She was happy for all of her babies, really. They were all so well off despite the split up.

Warm eyes looked around ahead of her and found a figure in the distance. Oh, right! Maybe she could get a story out of the figure! Her paws didn't take her any faster down the way, no sense in rushing these things!

It wasn’t particularly hard to spot a non-white figure against the snow, and slowly at the sound of crunches he turned his head to view the wolf. Brown on orange . . . Kinda like the other brown-on-orange wolf he had seen earlier. But that brown was lighter than this one, and the one wearing it far younger. Or smaller by his reckoning.

He raised his tail some, though it was a listless action – not particularly dominant, but at least she would know he wasn’t as defenseless as he appeared. She wasn’t rushing at least, that would have triggered a more instinctual reaction from Denzel: fight or flight. He couldn’t freeze, as he was already somewhat covered in snow that hadn’t been bothered to shake off; made him blend in somewhat.

What did she want? Did she know there was a pack up here too? Denzel remained silent, watching her every move and waiting for an indication of her purpose.


She was so easy to spot, unless it was the fall, where everything matched her. Myrle saw the other wolf notice her and a slow smile spread just a bit more. Tail flicking in something of a wave, she raised her head and gave a happy yip, much like a puppy. There must be a pack near by, or he was just a jumpy wolf, because she could sense some hesitation coming from his direction.

Shuffling forward still, the female raised her voice to a comfortable level. "Hullo there! I'm just passing through. Nothing to be worried about." If there was a fight, she wouldn't know what to do. She'd never fought a day in her life unless it was an argument. No one really found a story collector and teller to be threatening. Tail flicking happily she dipped her head in yet another form of greeting.