The silence of the night was broken when a certain he-wolf dominanted his path. You could see his coat gleaming in the moonlight. Ice melted down his flank, and you could see it form triangles across it. His tail lingered around his hidquaters and his head was lowered, shielding from seeing his blue eyes propely. His blue markings, tear marks and splats over his face were visable. He had gained weight over the past moonrises, but it was still clear of his thin stringy body. His fur was matted with mud and it dripped out with the movement of the slow, yet melting ice. He shook it off.
There was only one single thing on the young he-wolf's mind. She. The wolf that he loved more than anything. He was out here tonight to see her. Thier love was bittersweet and occult. No one could know of it. He would be a traitor, and if she birthed his pups they would be half bloods. He still loved her. Her appearence made an aybss in his heart.
My love! Where is my love in the thickness of the moonlight!
He sat, in the open well worn path that many animals walked across for thousands of years. His white head lowered as a tear streaked down and fell on the earth. Where was she. He wanted her. He needed her. Mingan could not stand not to be with her night and day.
Love needed to find a way.
Tone had followed Mingan through the forest and was now lying calmly on a a high tree branch. This little thing with him and the Wind wolf.. it was so funny! He knew he needed to tell the Gods, but not yet. No, he wanted to have some fun first.
Tone had made sure he'd covered his tracks, and was pretty positive neither Tink nor Mingan thought he was still tracking them. And, golly, would he be a hero when he reported this to the Gods. He wouldn't just be known as "that mean old wolf who ate my shoes". He'd have some respect, and would be able to find a strong male who could take over his pack. He was too old to manage it- he needed a male wolf to take control (And let him stay as a regular old elder) of the pack.