This was Sinclair’s second autumn. He had been only just developing true memory last autumn, and now that it had arrived again, he was recalling all the scents and sights of fall. His most vivid recollection was of the time he first tasted rabbit. It seemed to him that autumn was a time for exploring new things, as everything was in the midst of transformation. Today, the young wolf was venturing for the first time out of Glorall boarders. At a year and a half, he knew his home very well and had a few times now completed border patrol by himself over the course of a couple of days (for Glorall was no small territory). He somehow felt more capable and ready to explore the free lands he knew were beyond his home’s borders.
He had decided that he would go to Ruieze Fields, which was close to Glorall and also near a pack that, rumor told, was by nature peaceful. Sin would have to tell Tesseract of his time here! It would be exciting, he was sure. Hopefully traveling here and back would show his leader and teacher, Tesseract, that he was ready for the next part of his training, which was that Sinclair was capable of going on missions. With a youthful bound, Sin loped through the tall grass, feeling a leap in his heart at the excitement of crossing into unknown territory. Using the skills Everchime had helped him develop, Sin used his nose to navigate the fields. He wanted to meet foreigners. He had heard that loners were mangy mutts of impure heritage and unworthy of trust, but Sin found that he wasn’t all that concerned. He felt most wolves had a good heart, otherwise the world would be a nastier place to live in and Sin was quite enjoying the life he was living.
The morning sun was warming the landscape form a cool fall night, and it highlighted Sinclair’s lightly silvered dorsal side and gleaming white face. The cinnamon fist-sized patch between his shoulder blades seemed to set afire when the light glinted off the silver tipped hairs of his overcoat. Sin gradually slowed to a pace, his fluffy long fur bouncing in waves as he trotted along. He stopped once or twice to observe the happenings of the fields, trying to find a wolf he might have the courage to try and converse with. He was naturally introverted, so social interaction was work for his brain, and made approaching a large group out of the question until he felt better about his social skills (which he thought he was lacking because of how easily his friend Cersei could just talk and talk and talk).
He scanned until his eyes passed over, and then returned to a female wolf, who looked to be around 6 years old? Sinclair’s black tipped tail waved in tentative excitement. Wait. Was that… grass in her mouth? How… odd. Sin strode up to her and greeted her with a pleasant bark. He then sat down a little ways away, unsure if he would be welcome or not and he didn’t want to crowd her space. When he was seated he spoke amiably, “Greetings, miss. I, uh… I was wondering. Why are you eating grass?” His voice was higher pitched than it would be when he was older, but it was developing a practiced suave to it. It was smooth and clean; he was speaking through his mouth and not his nose which often produced that nasally whine to some voices. |