The black gloved man walked into the haze of the morning, thick with moisture the air was heavy and spoke of rain. Gold eyes looked to the horse that lead the way and he smiled at the dark eyed mare. A long whistle escaped his mouth, high and then low, watching only her ears turn to acknowledge him. She was a large horse, thought lean and stream line. For many days he had thought of what it would feel like to ride her, but he hadn’t gathered the courage. A blanket to start, on the calm roam mare’s back, to help get her used to the presence.
A noise, or smell changed the horses course. Heath watched her, and noticed what had caught her eye. A she wolf stood in the distance, her scent changed by the presence of the river water but clearly she belonged to the pack. His friend trotted towards her, blocking his view and half heartedly threatening to charge. The male strode to her side and instead of pushing her away, her rest a calm hand on her side. “A friend.” He said to the dark faced mare, speaking in their common tongue so that the woman would know that he wished to ease the tension was had been built.
“Hello.” He called, though he had yet to smile.