- Set on the evening after this thread, as they return for the first time.
for refference on the territory: Right at the edge of the Lowlands, where open fields meet the forested out-runners of Serpents Pass, flowers and more common grasses give way to a much brighter sort. Waving ears of wild rye stand high, blanketing the rolling hills in a golden sea, from mid spring until the first winter storms knock down the stalks. The fields run all the way to the tree line, only yielding for lighter underbrush where the low pines put the ground in shade. Out in the open, the grain is almost uncorrupted, only a rare few weeds managing to hold their ground among the yellow stalks, mostly along the banks of the wide creek cutting straight through the hills before pooling near at the forest's edge, forming a small basin. Close by, among the shelter of the trees, a small den is dug out between the roots of a lone oak in the midst of a wood of pines.
Deep orange light painted the plains in shades of gold and magenta, as the sun was setting in the distance. The heat of the day was beginning to wear off, temperatures quickly dropping on the open semi-tundra. Not something to complain about for the dark wolf, well-covered even in his sleek summer coat. But he glanced sideways at his companion, wondering how the extremely pale lad would hold up against the shifting degrees. He still wasn't completely clear on the full extent of his condition, other than the sensitivity to sunlight and odd appearance, but he was confident in his decision none the less; He's made it this far! And that despite all the world had thrown against him.
Drestig gave an encouraging smile, letting his shoulder brush lightly against Icicle's. He was determined that this would be a turning point in the young wolf's life, he trusted that his pack would welcome him despite his oddities, and give him the support he needed. "Not much longer," the elder man commented in a low hum, turning his eyes back to the slightly sloping landscape ahead. The mountains had grown steadily closer as they trekked across the land, and now the first glimpses of green from the retreating forest could be seen as well. Once they rounded this small hill, the fields of grain would come into view. Pride swelled in Drestig's chest at the prospect of showing his newest recruit their chosen homeland, a territory they would soon be able to claim for good.
Cresting the slope, the chap couldn't keep a grin from his lips, slowing for a moment to gaze out over the fields while he waited for the other to catch up. The ears of rye stood high and golden in the evening light, waving in a faint breeze. In the distance, the small creek could just be glimpsed, blinking as it reflected the last rays of the sun; and beyond, the small pool stood out bright blue against the yellowed grass and deep green pine woods. "This is home," Drestig rumbled, saying the word with more certainty than he ever had before. Then he slowly started the decent into the stalks of grain, making sure to keep Icicle by his side as they moved to meet the rest of the pack.
Word count: 385
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