Now she had only to decide if she wanted to join a pack and, if so, when. The constant security of a pack, and sense of purpose and worth, would no doubt be a blessing. On the other hand, it would be difficult to give up the aimless and thrilling travelling that she had long become accustomed to. Cessair quickly dismissed the constant babble of her thoughts, determining to address the issue later. For now, she wanted to enjoy the scenery of the territory she wandered into. No scent of pack borders barred her way, but instead a succulent sweetness that could come only from fruit graced the area. Medium sized trees made up the majority of this open forest. Every branch seemed laden with lush green leaves and bright red adornments. <i>Cherries.</i>
After a while, Cessair gave up trying to step between the cherries that rested on the ground, and instead marched right through them. Her paws quickly grew red with the juice, but it didn't bother her. After all, she enjoyed the aroma it left, and it would be a pleasure to lick of the sweet flavor later. Thus, she continued on, and only stopped occasionally to pick a fresh cherry from the ground or off a low branch for a snack. Her mouth filled with the distinct sweetness of the fruit, and her ears tuned to nothing but the sound of the gentle breeze rustling the leaves, Cessair trotted along in a sort of trance, totally enchanted with the novelty of the location.
It wasn't until Cessair neared the edge of the cherry forest that she detected an unfamiliar scent. Curiosity led her onward, and she was quite unaware that the source of the scent might yield danger. A small form soon came into view, and it took the brown wolf a moment to identify that it was a young cougar. The creature looked to be nothing but a helpless cub. While she wasn't about to run from something so young, it occurred to Cessair that where there was young, an angry mother was likely nearby. Sampling the scents drifting by, though, she smelled no other cougar.
Was this cub all alone? Surely, it must have a mother somewhere. She stared at the cub, which was playing with a butterfly and didn't seem to have noticed her, in indecision for several moments. If it was alone, she wanted to help it, but then again, she wouldn't know how. Plus, there was always the risk that the mother was indeed nearby and watching. Cessair eventually decided it was better safe then sorry, and quietly stalked off in the opposite direction. When she thought she was far enough that she wouldn't be noticed, she turned dead south and ran for several minutes, only stopping when she had reached the southern edge of the cherry forest.