Word Count → 518
Hello, please don't mind Hotaru. She's just grumpy.
The day wasn't particularly unusual, although the lack of snow on the ground was rather refreshing. Whenever a heavy snow storm came Hotaru would have to spend a good portion of her time trying to remove the snow from her favorite carving bolder and the bench she had built. It was a painstaking task, and one the grey wolf didn't really enjoy. However, if she wanted to carve outside such care was necessary. The only problem with the lack of snow was the muddy ground. Hotaru had found out early on that walking around in mud was an absolutely terrible ordeal. It was easy to slip on and made no recognizable noise for her staff so she had no way of knowing how deep the mud was or where the puddles were.
Not one who was easily deterred, Hotaru had decided to venture out that morning as she usually did. Her mental map of the pack lands and the surrounding forest was near perfect and Hotaru didn't really use her staff as often as she had when she first arrived. She simply let the staff hang in the air above the mud and soil, and would swing it back and forth slowly to make sure she didn't run into anything too obvious. Fawkes, as usual, was flying just above her as he weaved in and out of the trees. Occasionally the red tailed hawk would stop to perch on a branch or would fly off in some random direction only to return a few minutes later. He, like Hotaru, had grown used to the woods and felt quite at home in it's protective embrace.
What had started out as a normal day, changed very quickly as an unknown voice traveled over the lands. Hotaru's ears twitched at howl, it called out to the pack leaders. Hotaru didn't know what to do. She wasn't a leader, but she was nearby. Should she answer the stranger's call? In the end, Fawkes made the decision for her as the sound of his wing beats headed for the newcomer. Hotaru sighed as she followed her companion to go see what the stranger wanted.
It wasn't long before the smell of a strange wolf filled Hotaru's nostrils, the smell of a loner to boot. The same musky and earthy smells alway hung off of loners, and the absence of other canine scents added to their unique smell. Fawkes had arrived ahead of Hotaru and called out to the grey female when she reached the boarders. Fawkes had found a perch in a tree that resided just on the edge of the boarder. His large eyes examined the stranger, he wasn't too worried about her. Hotaru stood, her blank eyes staring out into the world while her sensitive ears stood tall and alert. "This is the boarder for Cercatori d'Arte. I am Hotaru, the Immaginazione. Please state your business or intent." Her voice was relatively polite, although her normally polite smile was more of a neutral expression. Hotaru wasn't one to be rude, but the mud had put her in less than happy mood.
Quote by: Maurice Freehill
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