"Hair" Color: Goldenrod
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[/html]There was a pack closer to his own than he would have assumed. Tanka knew nothing of the history of the lands he walked, everything was essentially new. Even the lay of the land, aside from the general, was foreign enough. Tanka was only half interested in learning. It was a necessity - not an interest of his. But that day, at least, he'd decided to wander outside of his own.
The fence had meant nothing more than 'find a way through' to him. Human structures, however flimsy, to keep things like him out didn't quite register in their purpose with Tanka. They said that he was not permitted to do what he'd come to do and simply it's meaning was ignored as if oblivious with Tanka. So, he'd slipped through and he was greeted by a forest - pleasant and strangely clean. He'd wandered until the scents of another pack grew detectable. He was still quite a ways away, he could tell, but found it unfavorable all the same and relocated closer to home.
There he was, pausing to examine a small fern plant as the dotted sunlight filtered through the tops of the trees. His hair was currently a goldenrod - but it wouldn't stay that way for long. Tanka pondered the warm shades of fall as he toyed absently, his mind wandering, with the small plant.