To Far, and Too Long [Open]

[featherswift]

The brilliant sun was shining down upon the land which welcomed it as it promised a thaw to allow life to come again. A copper colored wolf lay on some rocks where the sun filtered through the thick trees the best. She was sunning herself to help get the chill out of her bones. Of course snow was falling among her pelt through the filtering sunlight. All at once the sun hid to leave the fae on a cold rock. Spring was something she hoped for, longed for, but it would come another day it seemed.

The fae's name was Featherswift, a fighter or warrior of Sheeran Pack. The way she moved told as much, but something couldn't be seen from the outside, her heart. It was tormented day and night now with no peace. Though that did not matter at the moment. What had led her to the outermost of the territory was peace and quite. Now, she pushed herself off the rocks and began to lope about, going nowhere in particular. When she rounded a thicket of very thick trees her ears flicked forward and she stopped dead. A howl had peirced her ears and she stood silent to figure out who it was. It was a weak howl and she figured it had to be a very young wolf to produce such a sound as this. Featherswift listened, but it had stopped. She waited for a while and nothing occurred so she took a step back only to be stopped by another weak howl.

Curious, she began to make her way to a clearing and the snow began to pick up enough that no paw trails could be seen. As she went into the clearing her eyes instantly layed upon a small wolf. It was a pup and it was howling as if all Hellfire had descended upon it. Why are you so far out little one?, she thought confused. Featherswift began to hesitantly approach the pup, wondering if it's mother was nearby and was waiting to attack her. No other scents came to her though so she continued forward with a few sniffs here and there. When she was no less than 10 gigantic leaps away, snow began to pour from the sky more so. She had no cover from prying eyes due to her pelt color, but she hoped nothing would dare to attack a Sheeran member on their territory no matter how far out it was.

The fae then made a few friendly barks towards the pup and waited to see what it would do.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Sweet cushions of clouds and cotton flitted through the air, swarming over the ground in sporadic clumps. The supposed life nestled beneath the layers of sleet was bleached white, now absent to the unobservant eye. Towering firs shivered under their new arctic coats, and dreams of summer and sunshine seemed all too far away.
And yet, a howl stirred the stale frigid air.
The sound was quiet and fragmented, but a howl nonetheless. And, in response, another shape lurched into motion. The heavenly skylight began to dim with the approach of dusk, making the shape’s identity all the more anonymous. But it was a wolf; that was certain. And it was quickly gaining ground.
Finally, with large hypnotic eyes, the silhouette stood in the shadows of a dead tree. A lost pup, the scent of packwolf thick on its pelt, sat nearby in a fit of misery. The figure could only stare, and made only a small step toward the youngling.

[Acacia]

Ashmil looked around after her second howl. She whimpered and lay down with her head on her paws. Hearing the sound of another wolf from her pack she sits up. “Who is there?” She looks to the dark shadow. She stands and runs to them.