it's better to walk softly when you're on the run; have at him

[Firen]

Time moves quickly when measured by how much a young wolf has grown. Only a year had passed since Firen had put the frozen isle behind him, but much has changed for the shifter. Alone, he had wandered the common lands, perfect the gifts he had been given and living in the old ways of the wolf. No longer simpering in his father's shadow, he had begun to feel the possibilities future could hold.  Tephra had spit him out and he hadn't gone back, hadn't lost sleep over his sudden departure, but Icicle Isle called him back. The Isle, and thoughts of pack life.

Tucking his wings of flame along his topline, Firen plummets towards the world below like a comment. He lands a little less gracefully than intended , still a novice when it came to flight but getting better with each journey. Around his broad, black paws the thin layer of autumn snow begins to melt within moments, and farther out it glimmers with the reflected, crimson light from his wings.

With thick ears pinned against his skull, his dark wolfish heard turns to take in the seemingly endless tundra. In this barren stretch of the north, his approach must have been visible for miles. There would be no chance to hunt until he moved south. He had learned a little of Icicle Isle's geography from the Crevan and he wonders now, as he sets off in a loose, ground covering trot how long it will be before he is discovered by the wolf or fox.


@[Colby] @[Squirt]