he's basically at the WRF borders being nosey
He did not know why he kept going south. Curiosity, perhaps. Boredom, maybe. Or a deadly combination of the two.
All he knew was that he could hardly stop his oversized paws from tumbling through the lowlands, a little skip in his step as the monadnock grew smaller behind him.
Trees loomed menacingly in the distance but they beckoned the little Kael forward, feeding his youthful curiosity and propelling him forward. He hoped to go undisturbed this time, for this was merely an observation mission. He had not gotten close to the golden fields last time, for he had been interrupted, but this time he was determined. He would not succumb to distractions.
Zig-zagging through the dry terrain the smudge maintained a swift pace. He still had not grown into his legs just yet but, as the days passed, he continued to grow taller. The little smudge hoped he would surpass his father in height, but with his mother’s smaller stature, he was beginning to doubt that he would. But he remained hopeful, for it was certainly still a possibility as long his legs continued to stretch and grow.
The expanse of gold ahead of him was both breathtaking and exhilarating. It was the furthest little Cyril had gone from his home on the monadnock. Stalks of sunshine stretched as far as the eye could see and while the smudge wanted to plow right through them he knew he couldn’t. The stench of wolves was overwhelming for this was where the Fields pack resided. He had been told never to cross pack boundaries without permission and he was not in the mood to be scolded by strangers (or his parents).
Like a good boy he hovered around the borders, completely enthralled by the rye-filled field. His nose twitched as an array of new scents bombarded him, most of them nameless and only adding to his curiosity…