Vaken was the comfiest he had been all day, sprawled out on the ground, belly-up. It was a very cat-like position for a wolf to be in. Being small and frail, he almost looked feline-esque. His whiskers twitched against the floor, his ears bent along the ground. The weather was getting colder, but nothing he couldn’t handle. His fur was thick now, the snow melting before it reached the flesh. He wiggled, arms outstretched towards the sky before expressing a dramatic, noisy sigh. He could smell the male on the breeze. It wasn’t safe to stay in such a vulnerable position, but he dreaded getting up. He was way too relaxed.

A few weeks ago he had been in the same position as this stranger. He had spent many nights afraid of the falling snow, of the coldness, of joining a pack. Now? He was back to his carefree, untouchable demeanour. The world was his. He had decided not to worry, to wait out the cold as long as he could. If he had to join a pack, he would- just until the spring. He didn’t want to. He hated the idea, but he would do what it took to survive. It was worth a shot in the meantime. He had gotten along just fine so far, what was another winter? “Aye,”

The scruffy furred boy rolled back onto his stomach, concealing his vulnerable organs just-in-case. He could see the man now, his silver and black fur. It wasn’t familiar. Neither was the scent, clearly a loner- good. Vaken didn’t want to talk to any wolves in a pack today. “Looking for somethin’?”

The man’s words were pessimistic and gruff, cutting the silence like a knife. Vaken was a little taken back by it. He had asked assuming that the man was looking for a herb, maybe animal tracks to hunt, not another wolf. That was more serious. His face showed the discomfort he felt, crinkling up like he had smelt something awful. He hadn’t met any wolves named Tulip, not that he remembered. It seemed like that was the norm. How many wolves had he asked about her? A wolf would have to be missing for quite a while- maybe she didn’t want to be found. He kept his lips sealed and readjusted. He didn’t know the situation, it wasn’t his business to assume. Garmir had asked Vaken to keep a look out on an elderly man, Triell Tainn, and a younger former alpha named Kerberos. He hadn’t bumped into them. The lore seemed to be a pretty big place, a lot of area to be missing in. “Help look?”

That wasn’t in his comfort profile. He didn’t know this wolf, what his intentions were if he found Tulip, why she went missing. He had enough on his plate as it was without sticking his nose in someone else’s business like that. “I can keep my eyes open for her.” He wasn’t going to go out of his way, but he travelled a lot. If she was around the lore, they’d probably bump into each other eventually. If that was the case, this man would be the first to know. “You stick around this area? Got a name?” He’d need a bit more information if he was gonna be of any use.

Huh. The yearling eyes lit up in recognition of the Cove, his aunt’s pack. His face crunched up in distaste, nose wiggling to the side a little, remembering his battle with Birtie at the border. He lifted his brow at the memory, almost as if to say good luck. He had not been welcome there regardless of blood ties, regardless of his invite from Moon. Moonshadow’s dominance was being challenged. He doubted that if this wolf, Tulip, showed up at the border, weak and desperate that they would let her in- not if Birtie was around. That was not his battle though, so he nodded his head weakly, hesitant. He’d deal with that when the time came, no use bringing up old news. Maybe this wolf was a friend of Birtie’s, who knew. He brushed it off with a subtle wag of his tail, removing the bitter expression from his face.

He always appreciated the company of a fellow loner, especially one that wanted to stay alone. It was oddly comforting for the man. He hated packs with a burning passion, especially the ones within the lore. The leaders were too pushy, too domineering and brash for no reason. It was all too serious for him. He had spoken to Ferreiran about it, and most recently to Zev. Those had been two males who understood- who agreed to join him in his aids this summer. He’d never hold them to it. He knew the winter was cold and harsh, difficult to survive. If they joined a pack, he’d leave them alone, but come spring the yearling had plans. He’d claim territory for himself and his pack. He would offer sanctuary to the outsiders and rogues, who wanted to travel and explore, to challenge authority. It fluttered through his mind for a second, the changes he was about to make before nodding his head in silent understanding. “Thought about that myself,” he admitted. “Joining a pack just for the winter, couldn’t get myself to do it though.” He glanced at the falling snow and sighed. “Just couldn’t find the right match. Packs around here are a little stuffy, not my style.” It would be a tough winter for him, but he was stubborn and determined.

Solas was right- most packs were too stuffy. The yearling didn’t have to join a pack to know that. It was apparent in the social structure, in the language of pack wolves. He shivered, a jolt running up his spine. He hated that. “Do yourself a favour,” Vaken purred. “Avoid the rye fields in the north. Laike- their leader: kind of a douchebag.” It was apparent the yearling did not approve. His tail dropped slightly in thought, his fur bristling momentarily. He did not have a good relationship with that white wolf and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Anyone who joined that pack seemed to have their hands full. He didn’t expand much on it, not wanting to overshare or change the subject matter but instead listened to Solas’ question with interest.

“I’ll wait it out, if I can.” He wasn’t so stubborn that he would die in the winter rather than join a pack. If he started to starve, he’d ask Garmir to put in a good word and join the draw. It felt like defeat, but it was better than death. It would only be until the spring. “Probably can’t exist as a lone wolf forever.” It was brutal, but true. “I have a few friends. Might claim some territory in the spring, once the snow melts.” He wasn’t certain on it. The words still twanged in his mouth in an unfamiliar way, feeling foreign. He was so young and reckless. “Who knows.”