Alana paused at the edge of the forest, having never come in contact with such strange terrain before. Ahead of her, she could see water, vast amounts of it, with great waves crashing loudly against the sand. She had obviously seen sand before, but never in this amount. And never so soft! Her paws sunk in, making her feel almost unsteady on her feet. She adjusted fairly quickly, telling herself it was just like snow. Except that it was warm out, the sun beating down on her dark coat. She was thankful that she only had black on the top of her back, although it made her unevenly warm.


She paused not far into the territory, cautions. She could smell many other wolves here. This was the land that Leviathan had described, she was sure of it. But then the other wolf had fled with her imprint, leaving Alana only with instructions on how to get to Glorall. She looked around, searching for someone, hoping that she would not be taken for an enemy.


She stood in a submissive position, knowing that she would be an easy target for anyone familiar with this land. Her head was held lower than usual, her tail limp behind her. She was a small wolf, standing at only 29 inches tall and weighing only 75 pounds. Her body was lanky, built for running and agility. Those skills would do her little good on this uneven footing though and she knew it. She was also aware of how she stuck out horribly against the pale yellow of the sand, her grey coat doing nothing for camouflage with no similar-colored rocks around. She knew her scent would carry and there had to be others nearby. Hopefully they wouldn’t take her for an enemy and would at least ask questions first and attack later…or not attack at all, preferably.

ALANA
. female . five years . grey with black points . not mated . not imprinted upon . home is Glorall .
Kerowyn