By the time he got to a decline, the sun was already making its way west. His thick coat provided warmth amidst the winter chill, but the winds he had experienced so far weren’t so forgiving. Tongue lolling, Cypress walked slowly, jumping on the various boulders that mixed themselves in with the pine trees. It wasn’t much, but it gave the young wolf something to focus on besides his aching muscles and empty stomach. Once he ran out of boulders to hop from, he began to sniff around, trying to pick out anything of interest.
As time went by, Cypress started smelling more and more of something he just couldn’t place. It certainly didn’t smell nice, but given his curiosity, he wanted to find out where and what this thing was. Venturing deeper down the mountain, he stopped and looked around. He had been so entranced with trying to search for the source of the odd smell, that he hadn’t taken into account that the land had evened out.
Not only was the stench worse here, but he was standing on some worn trail. Trails only meant that someone had lived somewhere long enough to literally leave an impression behind. It didn’t smell like anything had been around, but that gross smell was stuck in his nose, so he couldn’t really tell. Cypress howled, to let whoever might live here know of his presence. He figured it was better to acknowledge their claim than to be trespassing.
Just to be safe, Cypress followed his steps a little ways back, just off where the trail began. Laying down, he sneezed. Apparently all of the surrounding plants didn’t like being investigated.