A Hundred Treads

Blood. That was the first thought to enter Zayne's head as he took one cautious step out from the treeline and unto the dry ground before him. Around him were various tracks made by other wolves, some recent and some old. Boulders lay at various angles while a few tree's extended past the treeline itself, most torn and warped from many a claw and tooth mark. Multiple scents- wolves, blood, fear, rage- swept past his nose as the wind gently blew past. He flexed a paw against the ground experimentally and watched as the dirt sifted through his claws. A sharp sound made his ears swivel backwards and his green eyes snap to the side, only to see a scrawny field mouse scuttle out from underneath a boulder and into the safety the tree roots offered.

Zayne gave a quiet snort as his tense muscles relaxed. He wished he could be that field mouse. Find himself a tree and make a home underneath a root. But being a wolf was much different than a mouse. He was the predator, not the prey. But being a mouse would be simpler. If more dull. He glanced down at his paw again. Next to it and a bit in front of it was a paw print. He lifted his paw and experimentally placed it in the print left by another. The previous paw print seemed to swallow his own rather easily. Zayne mentally winced and retracted his paw. His paws were daintier than most males, yes, but because they were so slender and sleek it made it easier for him to fish food out of the river. That didn't seem to lessen the slight embarrassment associated to his paws.

The slender male looked up again and started forward unto what was known by all wolves as the battlefield. It didnt matter if you were in a pack or by yourself, everyone knew what the battlefield was. And what it was associated with. However; Zayne had a purpose. He was in need of a pack. A search for protection, security, a place he could call home. And perhaps even a place he could curl against another's flank comfortably and at ease with safety. Today marked the day he would leave behind the first part of his life- and start another.

And so with new resolve, the wolf slipped between boulders and tree's alike with grace, his bright green eyes searching for movement of any kind.