The sky above was dark with heavy storm clouds. It had rained heavily that morning, and they had been granted a reprieve, but as afternoon rolled around, the threat was returning for more rain. They needed it. The lowland grasses felt harsher than normal from lack of good rain and the humidity was bordering on unbearable for the thick-pelted wolf.
Since finding Everly (@Lenae) out this way, Wraith had been itching to return. She was running from something. Someone. Of that he had no doubt. He recognized the ghosts in her gaze. They weren't the same. Couldn't be the same as the ones that had plagued him. But they were similar enough for him to identify with relative ease. There was no true plan for coming out this far. Mostly just to see what he would find, if anything. Would there be someone on her trail? Someone looking for her? Good, bad? Family? An enemy?
She was an enigma, but not one he wanted to unravel through force. By how fearful she had been of him initially, he suspected she had dealt with enough trauma not to be questioned about it. He told himself that in time, she would reveal what had her out on the ledge considering the bottom of the Thunder Bowl with hungry, sad eyes. But until then, he would satisfy his need to know by conducting his own investigation.
Dipping his muzzle to the ground, Wraith began near where the pair had initially met and sniffed around. Many trails crossed and died off, most consisting of stale prey trails he had no intention of following. Annoyed, he snorted and trotted some distance away to where he could still easy see the drop off of the Thunder Bowl and began sniffing again. There was something to the ground here. Some scent that burned at his nose with a heavy musk.
Wraith grunted as his paw fell into a shallow puddle during his intense tracking. Lifting his leg, he peered at it with a deepening frown. The male's experience with bears was minimal at best, and while the size of it suited the rain-filled track in front of him, the shape didn't quite match. It was almost as if a toe was missing. He snorted and twisted away, moving on. Apparently having a child made him more prone to using his imagination as well.
Still, he couldn't quite get rid of the feeling that he was being watched. Maybe even hunted.