The sun sat low, waiting to sink behind the horizon of the earth. Its rays stretched out in one final grasp for the living, before the ghosts and ghouls rose with the moon. The black stilted creature wandering among the woods was one of these lost souls, though he felt more at home among the others. The normal wolves, per say. Though being normal was only relative to the situation, and in his current situation the kalak was more than out of place among Arctic, Great Plains and European wolves. His smoke and flame pelt was more than enough to set him apart, but to make him that much more obvious, he was taller than the average Kalak. Standing at 40 inches tall, he was hard to miss. The Kalak’s tail flicked back and forth, impatience bordering on frustration. He wanted to wander alone in the night, but the sun’s fingers kept him at bay.

Horizon sat with gloomy features, his white tipped tail whipping left to right wreaking havoc on the forest floor beneath him. His figure was concealed within the tree line, but his mismatched lanterns glowed in the dying rays. One golden ember shining brighter while his chocolate pool lightened up only a little bit. Besides his mismatched orbs, the boy could have been the perfect specimen. He could have been royalty, but he was the farthest thing from it. He wanted nothing to do with their rotten minds and spoiled natures. He’d gotten enough of their antics when he had lived on the plains. Horizon remembered the girl from which he had finally made his way away from. The girls need for fire was more than enough to deter Horizon from any further contact with her or her affiliations. He’d only heard of stories about packs like hers, he’d never imagined he’d be meeting one of the feared fighters. He was nothing short of disappointed to find a fire obsessed maniac instead. He could only hope he wouldn’t run into her or anyone else of their kind for the time being. He’d gotten enough for the next moon cycle or more.

Horizon watched with a smirk as the sun finally sank beneath the earth’s crust. The moon was beginning to crest the hill behind him and this was his time to roam. His blacken paws reached out of the darkness and became enveloped in an ashy substance. He remembered he had ended up of the ashen half of Blossom Field, though he had no qualms with this idea. The smoky ash drove most wolves away. The remembrance of the licking flames and destructive heat that had ripped through here brought most wolves to tears or chased them away without even trying, but Horizon was not one of these wolves. He embraced the darkness and smoky air. He paws stirred up gentle clouds of ash as he padded deeper into the field where he figured no souls would roam. And for the moment he seemed to be correct.