WC: 300+

The Shiloh Hills were a second home to the friendly giant. Ever since he was a young teenager he had been exploring the area and now he could say he knew it like the back of his paw. The trees never moved, nor did the rocks or the shrubs or the hills. Everything seemed to be lost in time, only ever growing slightly year by year or becoming naked with the changing season. Soon enough some of the trees would be changing orange and red as the cooler weather returned. It was the time between the snow that Jazper did his best hunting, as you can imagine a black wolf was not very easily hidden in the winter and he was forced to save his energy for nightfall.


It was already the evening now and the sun was starting to set. It had been particularly hot the past couple days, almost unbearable for his pitch black coat. The underground tunnels had become a refuge for his large body as the heat was too much for him above ground until the evening time. However, his time underground was not satisfying to a male who believed himself a warrior and he had taken the evening to go on a hunt. In his passing he had come cross a relatively small female moose. She stood at around 6” tall, maybe 600 pounds tops, as she appeared thin. What had caught his attention was the limp in her walk. In his current halfling form he stood at a very large 4” and surpassed the 300 pound mark but he wasn't dumb enough to go after her without a little help so he carried on. With any luck he would come across a herd of deer and pluck off one of the larger stags with a little effort. The only downfall of hunting alone was that he had no one to make up for the speed he lacked in his large body.






"Talk."

WC: 300+

There was an eerie silence as he continued to step lightly through the forested canopy. It was the perfect time for hunting. Just as the sun went down it became harder for the prey to spot his dark features and if he was smart enough to come from the direction of the sun the light would burn the eyes of those who dared look. But alas the giant was left to search for more convenient prey and had already begun to follow a weak scent trail left by a few hares.


There was a shuffle of movement behind him and a strange scent reached his nose. It was very rarely he picked up the smell of this strangers pack. Jazper had never been too good at pack relations. He knew whom he knew and that seemed to have gotten him this far in life. As far as he was concerned Phoenix Valley and Dahlia de Mai were still their own individual packs.


Turning at the males call he quickly looked the canine over. His appearance didn’t stand out to Jazper in any particular way until he caught a glimpse of a tattoo on the strangers back. The warrior had become a fan of the strange marking fad ever since he was a young teenager and had coaxed a rather flamboyant wolf into doing the sun around his eye. It was a simple way to express yourself. "Hi.” He greeted in a friendly manner, his tail rocking back and forth slowly in a nonthreatening beat. Before waiting to hear what the male wanted to say the Knight quickly introduced himself, not wanted there to be any awkward silence in among the trees. "Jazper.” It was a simple introduction but the Dreamer had long since learned that big words were not needed in such meetings.

WC: 300+

The strangers name seemed odd to Jazper’s ears. Certainly not a plain English name. As he looked the male up and down he began to wonder where then name had come from but dared not ask, thinking it rude. “Nice to meet you.” The warrior stated plainly. It wasn’t very often that he ran into such a scent in these parts. Often he had wondered which pack it was from, as the Knight had never gotten around to tracking the smell, to its source. “Which pack are you from, if you don’t mind me asking?” Smiling gently, “I’ve noticed the scent around but I’ve never had a name to the place.” It might be silly but the young male was a bit of a home lover and rarely left Crimson Dreams except to travel into the city for supplies of various kinds.


The word came out of the male’s mouth leaving Jazper slightly standoff-ish. It was true that he was just thinking about how nice it would be to take down the moose, now just a few miles back from where they stood, had he brought along a partner for the hunt but it was very strange that this male would appear and ask him if he were on the hunt. Perhaps he had seen the moose? “Wouldn’t be thinking of that moose to the south would you?” It was possible that the male had seen the same beast in his travels around these parts and it would be a bit of a challenge but with his mass and Galileo’s slim body, which was clearly made for speed, it was possible. Noticing the brown male glance at his back Jazper adjusted himself to look as well. A large smile appeared on his muzzle at the sight of the tattoos, “Hey, nice tattoo!” He exclaimed. It wasn’t very often he saw another canine with odd markings.

WC: 300+

Cercatori d'Arte, so that was the name of the pack. The warrior, being very dedicated to his patrols, often traveled a few miles outside of Crimson Dreams to get an idea as to who was coming and going close to their home. More than a few times he had caught the sent of this d’Arte pack, always leading to the northern coast. Perhaps one day he would visit it and have a look around. In the recent year the had managed to not travel much outside of Crimson Dreams, mostly because of his pups being born about a year ago. It seemed that the last year he clung to the pack boarders, patrolling and hunting daily but not exploring.


Making a mental reminder that he should really go see the new packs he listened to the darker male. Moose it would be then, “Between the two of us I think we could do it. If you distract him, I’ll take the rear.” It was a plan that seemed to work. One wolf would capture its full attention and then the larger wolf would dig into it’s back, usually causing it to flail and expose it’s neck to the first. It had worked for the last pack hunt so it should work now.


Reexamining the marking he was sure it couldn’t be natural but he wasn’t one to not trust a perfectly nice stranger so instead he spoke with excitement and a bit of a chuckle, “Never seen such a marking in my life.” He had seen the odd wolf with tattoos, even scarred in art, but never such a strange natural marking. Taking his last words as the end of the conversation he motioned to the brown hued male to follow him and began to walk in the direction of the moose.