Red Fern Forest Graveyard

More often than not, Laurel was alone. He didn't particularly like that he was alone, nor did he like the idea of seeking some stranger out. He headed north, if only because he didn't think he could bring himself to see the faces of the wolves from Quaking Vale. North somehow seemed better, even if part of him knew he was just making something up to make his journey a little less meaningless. There was little to occupy his mind as he walked, and even though he'd felt so unwelcome with Sahalie and Alastor, at least with them around they could attempt conversation. He got bored in his own mind, though every so often he might come up with a game he could play by himself. He had been good at playing by himself when he'd lived back in Quaking Vale, if only because he couldn't be trusted to not get rough with the other boy in his pack.

Not intending to head anywhere fast, Laurel had spent most of his day walking in circles. He did it on purpose, firmly pressing his paws into the pawprint that he'd left before, carefully tracing his steps. It had been easy to take the steps the first time, but when he had to really think about it, it was hard. The boy stumbled often, struggling to make the exact same tracks. After who knows how long of playing the game, he found a new pair of steps -- paw prints that weren't his own. Not taking too long to think of it, the boy pressed his paw into the new set of tracks and followed that path.

@Hawthorne

The girl had carefully unfolded herself from Plant Boy, slipping away from him in the early morning. Every now and then the girl found herself taking a day off. She adored her colorful partner but sometimes she preferred a silent travel with no distractions. Not to mention she usually found something to bring home to him so he wouldn't feel too left out.

Rather thoughtful of her, no?

It wasn't unusual for her to head south into the ferned forest. Although she tried to avoid that one corner of the forest that housed all the bones. She had one souvenir from there and that was enough for her. Not to mention the strange noise she had heard there served as a warning for the girl not to return. At least not anytime soon.

There was something afoot, though. An unusual scent filled her nose. She hadn't recalled seeing anything or anyone else. Hawthorne would have assumed it was Sachiel but there was nothing familiar about it. So she halted suddenly with a readiness to face whatever may come from where.

He had not considered that the steps would lead him somewhere, or even to someone. For all he knew, they'd just be more circles. The girl whose steps he followed had stopped, giving him time to catch up to her (he had been getting rather good at his game, after all). He weaved around the trees, trying to go faster, proudly smashing his paw into the print below it. But suddenly he smelled something, and when he stopped to think of it, that smell had sort of always been there, he just hadn't been paying attention.

Laurel didn't like meeting new wolves, and just like every other meeting he'd had, he was faced with uncertainty and a strange inability to just say a good, old fashioned hello. He glared at the girl that had ruined his game, his face scrunching up in distaste even though he hadn't found a reason to not like her just yet. His mother had taught him better than that, but sometimes it just felt easier to go against what he'd been taught.

He disregarded the fact that he had found her, and growled at her in greeting. This was quickly followed by a "What are you doing out here?" Which was funny in a way, considering he didn't particularly know where out here was anyways.

Shallow water has trapped several fish in a small pond. Hunt Opportunity