05-14-2008, 07:58 PM
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It had only been six months. How could so much had changed in that short amount of time? By the scents alone, Adelaida could tell that the lands, her lands, were infested with the newcomers. She had returned through the hills, gone up along the coast, crossed over to the other beach on the other side and came back down into these dark, damp woods. The trek had taken up quite a bit of her time, yet still none had stumbled across her. And she had found the scents of many wolves. Too many, she thought. In certain areas the scents were far too concentrated, there were probably packs established. Pacing back and forth through the dark woods, Adela shook out her dark fur, a habit she had acquired when she felt irritated. Where had they come from, and why here?[/html]
Pacing back and forth, Adelaida stared down at her own feet, black as soot. The black crept up her feet to form what looked like boots until they were directly cut off by her rich brown fur. The same color black spread on her face, like a mask. Boots and a mash, like a bandit, and now, like an outlaw in her own country, the female paced irritably, trying to decide what to do next. Greet these wolves? What else could she do. Certainly she would be unable to defend herself, one against how many dozen? And even if she were to find any of the others she had known before leaving, which had been few, as these lands had been scarcely populated by the canine type, there would never be enough to reclaim a large portion of the land... not any of them needed that much space. Yet, it had been nice to wander, to not worry about running into claimed land, not to worry about running into rogues or ill tempered canines. And now here she was pacing like a manic, running a track into the earth where the grass wore thin from her obsessive pacing.