running through my mind

He’d ventured across the continent in true nomadic fashion. Occasionally he sought out Maeva for a day or two, but he oft wandered alone, tail flicking over a shaggy winter-coated flank.

His hooves had carried him past the northern edges of two pack borders, and he’d taken careful note of them, vaguely curious of the way wolves staked out their territories. Horse bands generally shared a whole range of mountains, or set of plains, though for watering holes, there was a hierarchy of bands. The higher the rank, the sooner your band drank. Lower ranking bands hung back until the higher-ranking bands had drunk their fill and moved on.

The real action was among the stallions. A bachelor band might choose to harass the band stallions, and multi-way brawls could break out. The mares watched or ignored the action and grazed for the most part, but some ladies were opinionated and fought hoof and tooth to stay with their band rather than be stolen.

Steam filled the air ahead and his head lifted, nostrils flaring at the sulfurous stink in the air. Ahhh, hot springs. He stepped carefully, mindful of his weight on ground above water that could boil him alive in seconds if he fell in. His head dropped low, whiskers trailing and testing the ground as he went until he reached a pool and carefully dipped a hoof. It was hot, but the pleasant kind instead of the sort that would kill him.

He gave his tail a flick and moved on, before a sigh pricked his ears forward and his vibrant eyes searched ahead through the steamy veils. Finally he spotted the young wolf, calling out gently, “Good day. I do hope I’m not intruding on your soak.”

His voice was deep and rumbling, smooth with maturity and held a distinct lack of fear or hostility as he stayed stood where he was, watching the wolf with some interest in his regard.

Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Hear" ---- Think