wanderlust

This journey of theirs had been a long time coming. At least, it felt like a long time. The hound was now in their second winter of life, finally allowed to set off on their own once they had become two years old. They didn't mind roaming the lands. It could be a little lonely at times, but they only had to look up at the moon at night to remind themselves that all around, every other creature was seeing the same moon, the same stars. They were never alone, not truly.

Their journey had taken them towards the packlands of a group known as Insomnia. The ideals of the pack interested them and after seasons of wandering on their own, they wanted to settle down. They needed to be accepted into the ranks first, however. And even before that, they had to make it through the marshy forest of willow trees. Morrigan hovered like a shadow on the outskirts of the forest, peering into the depths with a pale gaze. The scents of moss and swamp and stagnant water mixed with the tantalizing smells of prey animals and other canines like them. The black dog pricked their ears for a moment; nothing in the air or the area alerted them to any immediate danger, but they could never be too careful.

Finally satisfied that they were safe for the time being, they raised their head and marched onwards, letting a curtain of willow branches brush along their back as they entered the forest.