Vaken was comfortably extended in the hot sun, positioned on his back with his legs in the air. The heat rays warmed his stomach, glistening off the dirty blonde of his underbelly. He was on cloud nine. He had been travelling for weeks. Now he was resting, happy beneath the sprawled shade. He was sun bathing, his tainted orange eyes closing sleepily.

He wasn’t going to nap, but he was going to relax. He felt entitled to a little break. His mouth hung open, allowing his pale pink tongue to hang out the tiniest bit. He panted softly, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. He looked very puppy-like in afternoon sun. He didn’t have a care in the world, not even of the coyotes. If he smelt them, he’d run off. It was as easy as that. He was well rested enough to exert some energy if it was necessary. He would be disappointed to leave this area, but it was bound to happen eventually. Either the coyotes would chase him out, or he’d begrudgingly leave himself to continue his travels.

He was feeling awfully optimistic. His stomach was full, his fur was fairly clean (for his standards), he had fresh water close by. This was a beautiful place to be. He was utterly entranced in his surroundings.

Vaken rolled onto his side, his head laying flat against the ground. He had an itch above his right eye, but was too comfortable to stretch his back leg up and get it. Instead, he rubbed it against the forest floor and gave a small groan of pleasure. That’s the spot.

He was too busy being selfish and lazy to notice his audience right away. He continued to lounge about, stretching his spine by arching it like a cat and then relaxing it. It felt so good that he decided to stretch his toes to, reaching his paws out until his bones gave a slight pop. He thought about his favourite things: eating fresh kill, running in an open meadow, a cold breeze, sleeping all day. He was in a great mood. Nothing was going to change that, not even the coyotes.

He smelt them. He knew they were around. They weren’t an impending threat currently, but he knew the smell was getting stronger. It made him a little sadder, but he wasn’t getting up right away. He would wait as long as he could, and then he would run off. Just a bit longer he thought.

He took another sniff to guess their distance, but caught something else. Was that wolf? He lifted his head up off the ground and glared around, staring between the trees to try and catch a glimpse of his company. “I normally don’t like to be spied on,” he joked, still unable to see his audience. He gave up and lowered his head back on the ground. It didn’t matter to him. “If you’re waiting for an invite: here it is.”

When the dark wolf emerged, Vaken gave a snort of approval. He raised an eyebrow quizzically and sized up the new stranger with mild interest. He hadn’t expected him to really come forward. He wasn’t intimidated, exactly the opposite. In a lot of ways, Vaken was thankful to see a fresh face, especially with the heavy stench of coyote in the air. They were both similar in stature, being smaller wolves. Another body would help scare off the vermin though- no matter how small. 


Vaken assumed the stranger was a lone wolf too. He didn’t smell of any pack wolves. It wasn’t an important thing to know, so Vaken didn’t ask. Instead, he slightly shifted his body on the ground to face the approaching black wolf and clicked his tongue. "Not much of a talker, are ya?"

He closed his eyes and dropped his head back on the ground, resting it on his front paws. It didn’t matter to him. He enjoyed his fair share of quiet disposition. As long as he wasn’t a threat, Vaken didn’t care if he had anything to say. He wasn’t obligated to engage in small talk, especially to another stranger. Vaken wasn’t an alpha. He didn’t demand respect- he didn’t demand anything. He didn’t feel incredibly at risk with the male. He hid his neck a little, and kept his back from being turned, but those were just survival measures. It wasn’t anything personal.

He scoffed quietly and maintained his lounging position. Opening one eye, he used it to glare at his new guest.

Sometimes a little quiet company was well-deserved. Vaken, feeling quite content and comfortable with the eerily quiet male, closed his eyes and relaxed. He was blissful unaware of the coyotes far along the distance. He didn’t smell or hear them yet, though they were unknowingly on their way.

Instead of worrying about the vermin, he lounged around, thankful for the reserved nature of the other male. He didn’t mind a little small talk, but he was bad at it. He couldn’t ruin a conversation that didn’t exist. Instead, he sniffed his nose and returned to his cozy relaxation me-time.

The sun felt good on his fur. It dried up his nose and the pads of his paws, but he didn’t mind. His tongue touched a blade of grass while he panted. As comfortable as he was, he couldn’t take his mind off how strange it felt. It didn’t feel natural at all to be around a new wolf and say nothing. Not because Vaken felt impolite, he couldn’t care less. It was because it felt so unfamiliar. It was almost scary.

Was he in danger? Why wasn’t the wolf acknowledging him? He knew that the other male was there, but there was nothing to ease the discomfort of a stranger. There was no introduction, no awareness of motivations. Vaken had the cons of being around another person without any of the pros. He was sharing his space, his sun, his grass. Yet, he wasn’t being entertained or reassured of his safety. “You’re not gonna try and kill me are you?” He meant it lightheartedly, but it showed on his face that he was only half joking.