call me the wanderer. [open]

[parallax]

The mist's fine tendrils snaked out behind tall trees, giving the forest a ghostly image. The new grasses and plants that came with the arrival of spring seemed wilted and withdrawn; a soft wind graced them with its cool touch and the feeble ones fluttered ever so slightly. But the eerie silence was broken when the fog's thick curtains withdrew for a second to reveal a lanky silhoutte, the tall limbs wet from walking carelessly through a small stream. A young, lifeless beaver dangled from the narrow muzzle. The maned wolf paused only for moment, however; the next, there was another splash and she had gone.

There was no sense of urgency hanging in the air around her; only a simple desire to return to the earth-den she had made for herself a day previously. She never stayed long, never lingered over a certain place. One night she was there, the following she was not. That was her style of living. Parallax Tao's style. Odd-colored eyes darted around the forest once her quick gallop had slowed to a gradual halt. There was no one there, unless her vision was tricking her. She smirked with satisfaction; or was it a grimace? Whatever it was, she was alone.

A shallow indent in the damp earth, underneath sheltering ferns and grasses, showed where she had made her den for the few nights she planned to stay. She liked this area. The prey was plentiful, even though the weather was rather dreary. But that seemed to ward other wolves away, which she was glad for. She had caught a few whiffs of her kind-or rather, her so-called 'relatives'-and she wanted to steer clear of them. Not because she was afraid, but because she enjoyed her anti-social lifestyle too much to change it. Parallax yawned and the dead beaver fell from her mouth, landing on the ground without making a noise. She would have a good meal tonight, and she did not plan to share it with anybody. Then the elegant head lunged in her prey's direction and all that could be heard next were loud, noisy gulps as she wolfed the bloody flesh down.

[aurora]

The ubiquitous mist seemed to crowd even the border of the Adair lands. The rain that had fallen the previous night washed away all of the pack scents, making it difficult to tell where exactly the border was. Fortunately for one Milede, she knew precisely where the border was due to sheer memory, though this wasn't her usual patrol zone. She had allowed another Milede to, in essence, take the day off just so she could come here. Why? She had a vision. First, of splashing. And then of blood. She didn't think it was wolf blood, but still, this vision took place pretty close to the border and it was Aurora's duty to check it out.

So, without further ado, the colorful wolf trotted over what was left of the scented border and began to peer through the mist, her deep blue eyes searching silently for something. But there was no need to search with her eyes. Only moments after trotting deeper into the lands behind Adair, she began to pick up the sound of someone eating. She couldn't determine if it was wolf or bear yet but she sincerely hoped it was a wolf. Despite her slight fear, however, she trekked on in hopes of finding something. Surprisingly, for once in her life, her illustriously colorful coat actually blended into the mist. The way the light bounced off of all the colors merely made them dull. A solemn look swept across the wolf's face as the sound of eating got closer, and as she peered through the mist, she was finally able to spot the culprit. A wolf.

What a relief. Well, sort of. It was better than a bear. Keen eyes studied the newcomer for a moment or two, determining that she was female. Then, as she always purposely had, Aurora made her presence more obvious by snapping a twig underneath her feet. She liked to give new wolves a heads up so they didn't attack her out of shock. Shortly after that maneuver, she glided gracefully through the mist and confronted the other wolf, now only about ten feet away from her at best. You're rather close to our borders, stranger. Who are you? she announced quietly, her piercing blue eyes gazing at the other. I come from the Adair pack. My name is Aurora Bello, and I am a Milede. she finished, now sitting back on her haunches comfortably as she awaited a reply. This new wolf was most likely a loner, but if she was, it was Aurora's duty to escort her farther from the border. They didn't need loners coming in and juggling up the scents.

[/color]

[parallax]

The sharp crack of a dry twig was what alerted the maned wolf first from her eating. She lifted her blood-splattered muzzle to find a she-wolf. And to think that I had thought the mist and darkness would drive others away, she thought bitterly. "Yer border, ya say? Wull, I may be close to yer border, but believe meh; I has no intention of crossin' it." She paused, her tongue sweeping over her muzzle. "An' who I am is no bus'ness to strangers. But nice to meet ya anyway, miss Bello." Not. But Parallax couldn't really think of how to get away at the moment. The colorful wolf was talking; the reddish-brown wolf listened. Adair pack? That must be the name of the group of wolves that resided in the territory close to this dreary forest. Milede? That word was foreign to her, but she was determined not to show any ignorance in front of a total-and possibly dangerous-stranger.

With a tiny sigh, Parallax said, "I dun' quite care 'bout any of that, really; just what is it ya want and ya can be on yer way." Privately, she was rather certain of what the female wanted; to take her farther from the border or bring her to the pack. But if the latter was right, then bring her to the pack for what? To join them? As if. Most likely to meet their leader, whoever he or she was. Except she hadn't even crossed the border. Oh, well. That could just be used in her defense. Rolling her odd-colored eyes, she waited impatiently for Aurora's answer, intending to flee from this situation as soon as possible, and as quickly too.