For @Phoenix -- if parents want to throw in a post you can, but Merys will be a good boy. :)
(sorry for the long post)
Merys had thought it rained a lot where he came from, but in his experience the further south you went, the more that came. His northern pack received more snow, but less rain than Relic Lore. His soaked pelt hung on his frame like twenty pounds extra weight as he strode home from the Larkcall Lowlands. At least this time it wasn't blustering thunderstorms with lightning and hail and everything evil. His bitterness for the storms and how it forced him to help those who got stuck out in them was still lingering. It was like he was drawn to situations of aid, the kind he hated being a part of yet still couldn't force himself to walk away from. He was beginning to wonder if his whole life down here in Relic Lore would be full of these kinds of surprises everywhere he went. His last pack had been monotonous and easy. No surprises. Yet here we was, scoping outside his new pack's borders again.
When would this mid-life crisis end?
It had been a few hours of walking in the rain, the Lowlands squishy and unprotecting as always. The lack of tall vegetation that grew up here just really did not do it for him. Not when White Fir Notch was plagued with lushness and beauty; it made it hard to compare. Hence why he had bantered with that angry spider of a wolf that had set himself up in a pack further North. He sincerely could not understand why anyone would want to live in a place like this. The rain that dripped into his eyes and soaked his ears to droop were on cue to help fuel his distaste for these lands. It was time to take a break; he had made the mistake before of thinking he could wait out the storms up here, and while he was more stubborn than the average wolf, why not treat himself?
The thought only crossed his mind as a raised area came into view, easily missed by someone not looking for shelter. The heavy rain masked and dampened the scents around him, any trace of others lost from his nose at the moment. He bumbled to a slow walk, not pausing before he stuck his nose into the small shelter. He wished it hadn't been raining, because otherwise he would have known to keep on walking. No sooner had he begun placing himself into the dry den that the thick scent of "very occupied" entered his snout. "Jesus fucking christ, are you-" he began swearing up and down as he quickly removed himself from the den back into the rain. He back-pedalled quickly, looking around him for the trouble that he had just found himself. There was a god-damned CUB in there. And she was.. alone, as far he could tell. Merys calmed his displeasure and did his best to find a scent of parents around but the rain was playing its best cards. The terrain did not offer too much to mark, either, he considered. She wasn't truly alone, right? Her mother just out for a bite? Though, in this weather? He looked around once more before his curious side pulled at his attention.
No, do NOT put your nose back in there. She is dry and safe. Her parents will return. She'd be dead if she had nobody, he assured himself. He had stopped for every other helpless jamboree that he stumbled upon in inclement weather, and he was never pleased with the outcome. Why shouldn't he learn from those mistakes this time? She is dry. She is safe. Her parents will be back. He reminded himself. Nope, he wasn't going to do it today. He had a better plan. He shook his pelt thoroughly, removing as much excess water and as much memory of this as he could from his pelt so that fresh rain could replace it. He turned to leave before this bad idea turned into a good one.