Vark walked slowly through the grass, enjoying the feeling of the blades brushing the underside of his paws and in between his toes. A light breeze brushed through his fur, and he paused to savour the feeling. He was back in his Lupus form, thankfully, and he was quite proud of his first intentional shape change. He stretched in a lazy way and settle down in the grass, becoming part of the scenery. Vark especially enjoyed doing this. Rabbits sometimes came close enough to touch, and he just became part of the land and its noises. He slowly drifted deeper into his senses, hearing the grass and the trees rustles slightly in the breeze. He smelt the and leaf’s sap and the ever present unique smell of the Dahlian lands, its dirt, its grass. He heard the birds sing softly to their young ones, he heard a small voice say I’m so sorry…
Vark lifted his head. A scent touched his nose, a small sweet sent of a young pup. He rose and padded over a small rise. The scent grew, and mingled with the lingering scent of his leader, Conor. The young girl had was a member of the Dahlia de Mai, but was knew. He could hear her little heart was beating fast, and she was breathing in short shallow gasps. Vark padded slowly and quietly over to the little girl. "What troubles you, little one?” He said. His tail and ears were lowered, and he hunched to be nearer to the young ones height. "My name is Vark. What’s yours?”
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