The boy wasn’t exactly certain on where he was going. The mountain was difficult to navigate, hard on his muscles, but he didn’t mind. The weather was nice for it now that the summer was ending. He had spent a few days climbing along the rocky terrain, eventually leading to grass. He had not done much exploring in the north. He had explored so much of the lore, refusing to be stagnant too long- but the north? That was unexplored terrain. He had no idea what existed up here. Except for one pack: the rye fields pack. He cringed inwardly at the memory. His experience with the local rye field pack was not fond, he had narrowly escaped. The chance of bumping into them again was not great, but it made him cautious. He had avoided returning for that very reason. He had been too weak to defend himself. The summer had destroyed him, with the coyotes and lack of food. He was stronger now, braver. He didn’t mind trying his luck.
His health was increasing steadily. He was more confident in his abilities. While he wasn’t looking for a fight, he wasn’t going to avoid travelling any longer. He was curious on what packs existed in the region, sharply inhaling the new scents. They tied in together, confusing him. It was clear this side of the map was popular.
He had no intention of going towards wild rye fields. That would be pushing his luck a little too much for comfort. Instead, he moved east, following the new pack scents. He wouldn’t follow them as far as the borders, but he was intrigued and nosey. How could two packs exist so close together? He almost got them confused, mixing them together in his mind as one pack, but that wasn’t right. There were two differentiated scents. Bizarre.