His journey would continue. And the pungent smell of dried blood would drive the wolf's curiosity, thus leading him to some sort of vast battle ground. As he approached the wasteland, the wolf recognized the dried smell as wolf's blood... This was a notorious place for battle. Or so it seemed. His nose dipped towards the ground, and a massive paw would dig at the earth below him. The soil was tainted with bloodshed.
He was a rogue, driven by instinct to wander in search of it. The wolf still had no idea what the heck it even was, but the unsettling feeling in his gut drove him onwards on his journey. He had been traveling alone for months. But one could never guess the wolf was without company, for his weight and physical appearance never once deteriorated . The search for it led the brute here: the battlefields. Though with such a pungent smell of blood omnipresent, the lands literally felt more like a graveyard than anything.
He was about to turn around and leave; his investigation of the lands were over. But a soft, muted howl sounded nearby. And the wolf cocked his head confusion. Why... If he didn't know any better, he'd have thought it was a youngster. And sure enough, the outline of a petite little pup emerged. Followed by a second call. Two?!
The wolf kept his distance from the youngsters. He was of an intimidating size and knew better than to startle children. So he called out to them from where he stood.
?How on earth did you two find yourself here...??
Couldn't they smell the blood too?
