Red Fern Forest oh, guard the pounding sound

Kirsa, in all her life, had never been so alone. It was dark, perhaps an hour or so to midnight, and she had followed down a path—barely there—deep into the wildwood. Pre-dusk, it had seemed to her the most excellent idea: a quiet, secure place to settle for the night.

Now, the forest teemed with the sounds of predator and prey alike, and Kirsa realized that she had not been the only one that this had occurred to. A tremor of fright ran parallel her spine, and the girl pressed herself down upon the earth, shrinking back to the far innermost of the hollow that she'd claimed. As best the she-wolf could over the sinister din of the woods, Kirsa thought of home— and of her brothers, whom she missed terribly.

If Ahlf or Lars had come to lay there aside her, she would not have been so afraid. She would have snuggled against them in the shade, and faced the gloom, as opposed to cowering at its rise. Together, the three of them would have made their own forest-sound, and it would have spoken of song and breathing and soft laughter.

But 'the three of them'—as they were, and as they had been then—no longer existed in that approximate synchrony. They had chosen to brave that storm, but the Solwix trinity had mistaken their wholeness for guile, and it'd spat them out in fragments. If only—

Something rustled in the surrounding brush.

Kirsa sat back on her haunches, and mustered in the back of her throat a low, pleading whine.

(This post was last modified: Oct 04, 2016, 11:19 PM by Kirsa.)

It was dark and Latif had to wonder what had given him the brilliant idea to go exploring. At night. In an unknown place. Maybe it was because he had woken after only hours of sleep and he had thought that maybe do something would help. Maybe it was because this place seemed to have more noise than what he was used to. In any case he was up and wandering around trying to think of where else he should go once light lit the sky again. South? That seemed like a good idea as any. North had no more appeal for him. It was starting to get colder he could feel it and he knew already that the North was colder.

The scent of fear and anxiety rose into his nose and the pale mane stopped mid-stride. He hadn't heard the sounds of a hunt and he hadn't come across any prey in his meandering. His head dropped so his nose was a mere inch from the ground. Then from there he began to track the scent. He didn't know what had caused this fear ,seeing as there was no blood, but maybe if he found the source he could help.

As he moved some branches brushed against his side. He ignored their touch. What he didn't ignore was the low whine that came after. He froze before he shoved his way through the bush. Branches and twigs pulling uncomfortably at his fur while leaving drying leaves on him. Once through he was greeted with the sight of a small wolf, one that he realized was the source of the scent he had followed.

"Are you okay?" Latif asked gently,concern evident on his face as he watched her. Why was she so scared?

A young deer has been separated from the rest of its herd. Hunt Opportunity