Salutations

A squat frame of mottled browns settled himself on the white sand. Phenex’s sharp green eyes raked the area, narrowed and bright in the moonlight. Paw prints riddled the sand, though they would soon be wiped clean by wind or water, whatever kissed the surface first. The footfalls were nearly all large, befitting of his own, some even larger. There was one gate that showed weakness, a sway and drag that didn’t belong in this group. They had gathered in a formal circle and lingered in that position for some time. The weight and depth of these stationary prints all subtly pointed towards a defined point of the circle, the ring leader.

The scents were more telling then the chaos of prints. They mingled and intertwined. Some of them he knew, yet he recognized them all one way or another. Some where older half siblings, all sharing the hot blood of their Godly father, but each litter held by a separate bitch. Their father kept his brood females alive only so long as she held milk within her teats. Every breeding season he would strike out and find another female, so every litter had slightly different genes but a consistent musky scent.

Some of the scents deviated even further, more mortal than God. Some of his siblings had propagated.

Phenex walked through the scents slowly before settling on the form that all had pointed towards.

Amon.

Phenex had missed this meeting by a less than a day. The sand below his feet was still warm from the sun, even as the moon now glittered upon it. There was a good chance that Amon was still around. A good chance that all of them were close.

Phenex settled back on his haunches, letting his paws sink deeply under his weight. His head dipped back at a precise angle as he took in a great breath of air before he howled. His song wasn’t going to win any awards by any sane wolf’s standards, but it got the message across in a finite matter.

Amon, brother, I am have come.

Now he will wait. Amon may not hear him, or may choose to not answer. These were not things Phenex could control. He watched the stars trace their nightly progression with only the slightest of sways to shoulders, pulling his head with them.