Enocra Woodland

Pine, spruce and firs alike...
Dense coniferous forests cover the woodlands, with clearings, paths and the occasional wildberry shrub throughout. Pine, spruce and fir make up much of the forest in the east, with the forest becoming swampier in the west towards Mecor Valley. In the west, cypress trees dominate, with fallen trees creating bridges across and throughout the stillwaters.

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the stars don’t even matter
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The silence the falls after his question leaves Hickory feeling slightly nervous. The red wolf is not quite sure what he has said to shock the white wolf into silence, but he reacts the way he usually does. His dark tail wags gently, low between his legs without seeming cowardly, a nonverbal ‘Sorry if I offended you, but let’s still play, please.’

When Heyel sits down to explain, Hickory mirrors the emotion, his dark tail curling around his front paws as he listens with his head titled curiously. Alpha means something to him, and his tail flicks happily. Why an alpha would be alone is something that he doesn’t ask about – for all he knows that’s offensive in this new world. Instead he waits until the older wolf is finished talking, and is quite clearly glad when he turns back to the task at hand – the game.

Hickory pounces as soon as Heyel tosses the fish tail, aware that the other wolf is talking, but busy retrieving the toy. He snatchesit between his strong teeth and rolls to a stop, ending up on his side as he looks over at Heyel. “You’re supposed to catch it.” He explains, his voice patient. There had been a slow pup once, a strange little boy with red eyes and snow white fur. It had taken him longer than the other pups to grasp basic wolf things, and when he had been killed by a wandering bear, no one in the pack had mourned him very much – no one but Hickory anyway. Perhaps Heyel is a slow pup all grown up, the red wolf decides – he certainly has the white fur.

“Now I throw it,” he says, tossing the tail up a few inches before catching it and shaking it furiously for a moment. He then tosses it in the direction of the trees. He crouches before pouncing, his pale eyes on Heyel to see if the older wolf has grasped the concept of the game. He is distracted, rather quickly, by the appearance of a black she wolf where he had just tossed the fish tail. “Hello,” he says with several sharp wags of his tail. Hickory is emboldened by the light-hearted nature of the game, and prances toward the smaller wolf. “I’m Hickory. We’re playing Catch the Fish Tail.”

H i C K O R Y
male | seven | 32’ & 145 lbs | packless | mateless




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