Darkmoon breathed out slowly, his breath condensing in the cool air. The sun was only just beginning to rise, but it had not yet breached the horizon and so drenched the meadow in a cool blue light. The red flowers, normally vibrant and in stark contrast to the green of the grass, were dull in the poor light, their heads still closed in the absence of the sun's stimulus. He stood still as he surveyed his surroundings, his dark form silhouetted against the morning sky. He was quiet, waiting, watching for any sign of movement or life that would betray his prey. It had been a few days now since the wolf had eaten anything of substance, and he was growing desperate for a decent meal.
    A soft rustling sound caught his attention, and his head shot in the direction of the noise. His eyes were almost useless in this light, so he had to rely on his other senses to search out his quarry. His ears swivelled to catch any more sounds, while his snout, raised, tried to scent out any whiff that could betray the location of the secretive presence. He was certain the noise had been made by some sort of creature, not just a symptom of the slight breeze.

Darkmoon was a recent arrival to these lands, his coming a result of hunger and loneliness. It had been a few weeks now since he had become separated from Xolea, his only friend, who he believed had abandoned him. At the beginning he had felt lost and broken, but over time his heart had hardened and he had grown bitter, resentful, the shell of a wolf. However, with nowhere to go and no pack to turn to, Darkmoon was truly without support for the first time, and it had not been easy for him. Yet as he ventured farther north and the lands grew more lush and full of life, he had picked up increasing signs of wolf activity. He did not know if he was ready to meet another of his kind yet, but he knew where there were wolves, there would be prey, and the chance of any easy meal.

This was how he find himself in the meadow, stalking sounds in the morning twilight.
    Darkmoon flattened his body to the ground as he heard the rustling again, and he began to creep towards the sound, careful to step lightly in case he should give himself away. His body was tense and he tried to relax, but there was so much riding on this catch that he could not help but feel on edge. His placed his paws so very carefully on the ground, one after the other, but his inexperience inevitably scared the hare off, and he watched in disappointment as it scampered away, his position too far from it to give chase. His hazel eyes watched it careen over the meadow, hopping madly away, until it disappeared over a small rise. He sat back with a sigh, cursing himself for being so clumsy. He did not even know what he had done wrong!

Another sound broke the relative calm of the twilight, and Darkmoon instinctively dropped to the ground, crouching below the grasses. He held his breath as he waited and listened, daring not to betray his location. If it was another prey animal, he wanted to maintain the element of surprise. He realised, however, that the noise had been heavy, almost, not like the soft rustling the hare had made earlier, but whether it was a large herbivore such as a deer or something more sinister, he did not know. He tried to peer through the grass to see if he could spy the intruder, but the light was too poor to be able to make out any obvious shapes. Unless whatever it was started moved again, he doubted he would be able to see it. He knew he had no chance trying to bring down an adult deer, but if it were a separated fawn, then maybe.... Chest to the ground, he tried to sneak towards the source of the disturbance, careful to make as little noise as possible.
    A slight gust of wind blew towards him, and with it brought a soft, but familiar scent. It was, unmistakably, that of a wolf, and he froze immediately, ears flattened. He could feel his heart rate quicken, his breath coming out in short, shaky gasps. He was not sure why he had started to panic, but he felt very uneasy in the wolf's presence. He had the feeling it had seen him, too, and that only made things worse. How stupid he must have looked then, creeping towards it like some common prey. He tried to calm himself down, and took in more of the wolf's scent when he stopped trembling enough to do so. He learned that the wolf was a female, although she also carried a distinctly woody smell, and he assumed that she must have come from the nearby forest - although why, he was not sure.
    Slowly, Darkmoon rose from his crouched position, eyes pointed in the direction he guessed she would be. Sure enough, they fell upon a dark form, slightly smaller than his own. He relaxed slightly with this news, but he stayed on edge, his posture stiff and tail low, ever so slightly moving from side to side. He could feel his hackles begin to rise, but he tried to control his emotions, not wanting to display the fear he felt to her. A slight tension was forming in the air between them as he stared at her, daring not to make direct eye contact. The last thing he needed in his state was a physical confrontation with a wolf, no matter their size. Wanting to break the silence, he tried to speak but found he had no voice. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "Who are you?" he asked, rather brusquely, but he cared not for formalities. A strange thought cross his mind, however, and he wondered if it was not his fault, after all, but rather she who had disturbed the prey he was stalking earlier. He narrowed his eyes at her, suspicious, and ventured further, "And why are you here?" He did not know why he was being so bold, but his hunger had made him cranky and short-tempered. Little did he know that he was speaking to an alpha, let alone of one of the largest packs in the region.

Her tone was strong and imperious, the reply to his questions short and curt. The emotion it carried made his ears flick back momentarily, and Darkmoon almost regretted what he had said, and the way he had said it. Her lofty posture suggested that she expected a certain level of respect from others, and he began to wonder just who, or what, she was. She definitely was no pushover, he thought, and he decided that it would be best to watch what he said from then on. He had little concept of superiority, having not grown up in a pack, and he found her attitude off-putting and strange. She had sounded almost offended, he thought, and along with her choice of words, an idea began to form in his head. Did she emphasise the word 'my' because she led the pack, and not just because she was a part of it? Even so, Darkmoon was not about to drop to the ground and grovel at her feet. She was not his leader, and as such had no power over him. Naive as he was, he did not understand the implications of angering a whole pack.
    "Huh, well I don't smell any scent markings around here," he grumbled to himself, rolling his eyes. Darkmoon knew it would not be wise to push his luck, but he could not stop himself - he had little self-control or tact, and often said the wrong thing at the wrong time. He watched her carefully as she moved towards him, his muscles taught, ready to spring away if needed. She only asked him, however, what he was doing so close to 'Willow Ridge' (whatever that was), but the snide remark was not lost on him. He huffed with annoyance but kept his cool, claws digging into the dirt below to help steady his emotions. "I am afraid," he began through clenched teeth, although quickly realising how it must sound, tried his best to relax his tone. "I'm afraid," he tried again, this time with better results, "that I do not know what you're talking about. I've never heard of Willow Ridge before, and I don't know where that is." If she was an alpha, Darkmoon thought, she definitely was no benevolent leader.

The female's demeanour changed suddenly, and Darkmoon allowed himself relax slightly. It appeared to him that she had perceived him as a threat, until learning he was nothing more than a lost wanderer. His tail still twitched slightly in annoyance at her intrusion (she did scare his meal away, after all), but he tried to keep his outward expression neutral. He nodded at her comment, and noted the hubris in her voice as she spoke of her pack. This just added to his theory that she was, in fact, an alpha or of some high position, not just one of the hoi polloi. He had not been any further north than this, however, and knew nothing of the willows or the packs that lived throughout the land.
    She changed the topic before he could comment further, and began to speak of melting snow, presents, and...an invitation do join her to search these out?? Darkmoon was taken aback, surprised at her offer. He barely knew her, and she him; he was not used to such quick trust or acceptance of another. "Do you...do you mean food?" he stammered out stupidly, unsure what else to say. Hunger pangs racked his body at the thought of a meal, and he clenched his teeth in pain. If she were to help him find food...well, he reasoned, he could drop his guard too. Just a little bit.
    Darkmoon felt his tail begin to wag slightly, and he nodded at her. Still apprehensive as to why she had invited him along, he could not help but grow excited. While he continued to hold a sense of enmity towards her, he decided to go along out of desperation. Beggars were not choosers.

Darkmoon rose to his paws as the she-wolf began to walk away, taking care to keep some distance between the two of them as he caught up to her. He still did not know how much he could trust her; few strangers offered to share their meals, and he was not about to follow her on blind faith alone. He looked at her suspiciously out of the corner of his eye as they walked along, but otherwise kept his attention on where they were going, eager to find these presents she spoke of. While she had not confirmed nor denied his question, he assumed that her departure was a 'yes', and at this point anyway, that was enough for him.
    The she-wolf asked him what he was doing in this area, and Darkmoon shot her a wary look. Why did she want to know? he wondered, but he supposed it was some common courtesy, a way to show she was interested in him or that she cared. Darkmoon could not care less for such niceties, and he guessed his companion did not have particularly warm feeling towards him anyway. He only gave her a grunt in answer, unwilling to extrapolate further. His purpose was his alone to know, or at the very least, they were not on such terms that he would tell her. However, Darkmoon was not even sure what his purpose was, or if he even really had one. He had just ended up here, after wandering aimlessly from meal to meal, but always northward. Sure, there were certain events that inspired his journey (and this he was definitely not going to go into detail about with a stranger), but why he had come here specifically, to Relic Lore, was unclear.