-- LORD SATCHEL. It was humid out enough to rot bones and scatter dust. Molten orange eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, blinking in silence as the heat set in. There was only a faint buzz to interrupt the stillness but it made little sense to him feeling so horridly exposed a head-full of dizzy spells that got worse the more he started to wake up. His pale hide pressed loosely upon the dirt stained with it's grim as ribs heaved in effort not to suffocate on the heavy air. A million little thoughts running rampant in his mind, leaving him slightly out of breath. Every joint was stiff, a splash of grey on his ivory muzzle as he shifted his skinny hide into an upward position. The whole fucking world started to spin alarmingly, all the colors blending together making him utter a soft little whine as his stomach heaved in objection. He sat still for the next few minutes, leaning slightly on the trunk of a nearby tree. He had a rather nasty wound running down his left rib cage, a long and still bleeding statement that no sense to him. He inspected every inch of himself, licking the blood off and savoring the metallic taste. He needed to find water, a parched throat burning like scorched paper. It was almost as if he had just woken up from a very bad dream, funny taste lingering in his mouth and making it hard to concentrate on what he had to do. A deep inhale, stumbling upward onto his paws and shaking off the excess. He inhaled again and started towards the smell of moister, stumbling through the brush without a second look back.

A L A M E A

It was uncomfortably wet here and Alamea felt as though it would take a lifetime for the dampness to leave her, it seemed to be penetrating right to her bones. The young white female had seen many places in her short time here and yet again she found herself in place unlike any of the others. Her mind began to wander, she briefly wondered what type of wolf she might meet here, and then wondered if she would meet anyone at all.

She had wandered a bit farther when she caught the scent of another wolf. Male, she surmised, she changed her course following the scent. The youth couldn?t say why exactly, maybe it was the atmosphere of the bog. It certainly wasn?t a welcoming place, to be certain, the fog had begun to roll in which caused a chill to run up her spine.

Finally she saw the male with her own eyes, he had his back turned to her and they were still a ways away. Even from here though she could see was pretty big, and she could make out the snowy color of his coat. Alamea hesitated, he was moving away from her and she was unsure if she wanted to follow him, wanted to close the gap. The ivory female decided instead to let out a small bark, she would leave it up to him if he wanted to answer.