Sex: MaleThe cherry tree blossoms had already come and gone for the year. All that remained of it had been reduced to small heaps of pale pinks and blush-colored petals. Some still had their blossoms, but they were not as eye-catching as they had been the year before. Wherever Oleander stepped, the small flowers crunched underfoot. Some even creased and split, others disintegrated entirely. The drought had done a number on the orchard. The Lore locals had to be immensely lucky to have a harvest this year.
As it stood, the young white wolf was neither fazed nor interested in the wild fruit trees. It had been a few days since he had last quenched his thirst. But, he was not about ready to get caught by his family at their current watering hole. Solitude was his only present comfort and he liked it that way.
Today, though, he had to wonder where all the water had gone. With the cherry trees to his left and the first of the Ghastly Woods' dark trees and thickets to his right, Oleander was stuck. This was the farthest he had ever been from home and he had yet to find out answers to where the water had gone.
OLEANDER VALLE
that I'll never be a saint, no way