you do not know who is your friend
or who is your enemy
until the ICE breaks. It couldn't be helped - Ice was born on straying paws, and now they were taking him out of the Grove again, wandering south to a place that required investigation. He'd been among the willows before, the first time his black nameless friend had found him, and it was, perhaps, with a small amount of hope to find her again that he returned. Still, he knew that she didn't live here. She lived up the mountain... But, short of going there, he'd likely never find her again if he didn't go outside of his pack's territory! The three mischievous little runts were growing rapidly, and they weren't few in the pack, so there was no danger to them if one guard slipped off at odd times. Besides, it was healthier for the pack mentality if he didn't sit in a corner and brood. Walking, running, usually cleared Ice's head, and he preferred to take his miseries outside of the Grove and deal with it there. Not that he was very miserable today; rain had soaked him, but it had stopped, and the sun was starting to peek through the lessening cover of clouds. He breathed in the humid air again, filtering it through his nose. It had been some hours out that he'd caught the faint whiff of pack, but one he didn't know, one which certainly hadn't been here earlier in spring, and the closer he came, the stronger it grew. There was nothing that could explain it, save for the simple fact that a new pack had formed here, sometime in late spring or the summer which was waning. Curiosity pulled him closer. He had no intention of trespassing, but hoped to run into one of the members on the ground outside of their border, and perhaps find out what was going on.
Rather cheerful despite his fur dripping water with every step, he trotted through the willows and their long, tangled limbs; they stroked his fur, sending shivers down his spine, all the way to the tip of his bushy tail. The scent of the pack was overwhelming, at least compared to the memory of it had smelled the last time: he didn't recognize any individual scent, but it was hard to make out in the snatches of it he passed. With a spring in his step and a light in his eyes, Ice kept going, and eventually his search bore fruit; a medium-sized, average-looking red-furred male was lapping from a puddle of water, his eyes a golden reflection among the ripples, like two small suns burning in his face. The world slipped into shadow again as a cloud slid across the sun, and Ice gave a disagreeing grunt under his breath. He would've preferred some sunlight.
With a rather neutral air about him, he gave a woof as to not startle the other and approached. His bouncy trot had slowed to a walk, and his tail was low, relaxed, ears forward and alert. Of course, anything and everything could happen at such a time as this, but Ice preferred to go into it with an open mind. It was rather strange, how nice he could be outside of the Grove when encountering strangers; when loners came to his pack's borders, he could be quite mean and grumpy.. and if someone spied on him, even more so. Now, though, there was just an open friendliness in his face. "Hello there," he greeted. The male was smelling thickly of whatever pack resided here now, and Ice stored the scent in his memory. "I'm Ice, from Swift River. Who are you? Is your pack new here?" And hopefully it wasn't started from traitors, eh? .ice aesir |
Sex: Male
