wilting flowers

Charlie was taking a small trip away from the Armada, choosing to broaden his horizons but be close enough he could return home and ensure his duties within the pack could also be tended to. He wanted to find the best materials to present to Wylan for creating his first battle accessory. Well, the finalized version of it anyway. The one he would make with his nephew would be one he outgrew in time, and Charlie had already promised himself he would make Wyl the version he’d have as an adult, a gift for his first birthday. If he got the chance to meet with his other nieces or nephews he could do the same for all of them. He knew gifts with meaning were precious things, and the cuffs he wore on his front legs were a symbol of that. A gift from his father, made with treasures of their mother. They brought the yearling happiness, reminding him of the loves both his parents had for him and his littermates.

But today would not be focused on the task of gathering materials or training within the Armada. Today Charlie just wanted to walk, to feel the earth under his paws and breathe in the air of the Northern parts of Boreas. He had left his companions to their own devices for the day and he walked along wearing the armor that had been left for him by his mother. It was rare for him to leave the Armada without it, whether it was needed or not. It gave him a sense of comfort. He wasn’t the sort to immediately jump into starting fights, but he knew he could handle himself if trouble came his way.

He was nearing the wall when the sight of fur by the stones caught his attention. Charlie frowned, ears perked toward it as the yearling changed his course. What creature could be lying so still be the stones? Prey? A scent drifted toward him on the breeze and Charlie frowned. A wolf, a younger she wolf… the scent told him she wasn’t dead but the fact she’d be out here, practically in the open and alone was concerning. She didn’t have a pack scent, and though there was the underlying scent of another there it was faded… as if that wolf had been gone for at least a couple of days. He decided to approach, slowing his steps once he was in range to call out to her.

“...miss? Are you alright? Do you need a paw?” His voice betrayed his concern. She looked so delicate, like she might break if he dared reach out to touch her. Who would have left her out here all alone?

"Speech," 'Thought.'