A foreign wanderer

The wanderer continued to move around the new lands, blackened nose leading him with confidence. There was a lot of prey around the area, and he began to wonder if this was the place to call home. But today, the earthly toned man had wandered into a very eerie, yet peaceful place. Dry grass beneath large paws, and fog covering sight anything beyond a few meters ahead, Varon felt oddly restful here. There was a certain calmness in the atmosphere. It was not a place he'd ever been in before, and his old pack lands never had such a place of calmness. Back home, the Russian was used to colder climates, and the borders were large mountains that would take days to get around. It took him almost a week, and after months of traveling, the purple eyed beast had found himself on some new territories. Already he had hunted with a stranger, but there seemed to be a lack of other fellow canines. Or could he simply not find them? As an introvert, it didn't bother him to see a lack of other bodies, but it also worried him. Maybe others did not live here due to some disease or other threat he couldn't see? No, it was going over his head. Head lowered, he continued through the misty area, enjoying the lonely company.