The fear of flight

Slowly he would drift from his den, the warmth of his bed seeping away from his fur as he went outside. Shivering with the cold that came with winter, he'd make his way into the nearby woods for a walk. He had been lacking in the social department since returning to Valhalla a couple seasons ago, the only other one he had really spoken to was Ashtoreth, but that was nothing new. He enjoyed his time with her, and recently it was even better. They were mates now! But alas, he had not gotten the chance to tell anyone the news. He thought that perhaps he would tell someone soon, he was excited after all.

It was then that the scent of another would pull him from his thoughts, and this was recognizable from the last pack meeting. But he did not quite know who it belonged to. Changing course, he would make his way towards the owner of the scent, and soon his sights would fall on a white she wolf. "Bad day for snow, eh?" He stopped short of her position by a yard or so, sensing her annoyance at a particular time though he would refrain from commenting on it. It was, after all, a natural thing for women during certain times of the year.