06-14-2022, 05:06 AM
His nose, not his legs, had brought him to the edge of the pass.
Carefully the mocha-colored male had treaded the incline, his paws delicately scraping against the rocks and pebbles that scattered aside as he moved. A tan chin would lift to greet the sky and the towering stone structures about him, every nerve in his body alert and trip-wired by the suffocating scent of them. A cluster of sensations, each similar to a note in a song, but once combined - an orchestra of colors, faces, voices. A warning and a symbol of harmony, daring wanderers to push forward and greet the heart of the smell.
Recently, Klaus had been going off of nostalgia to get around. For the past week, he had been seeing a white figure slip behind the corners of his vision, slender and soft on his eyes each time he managed a glimpse. He wasn't sure what it was - some vision of his past, maybe - but the phantom figure had led him closer and closer to this place. With bated breath and a mind satiated by adrenaline, he had followed, keeping his nose and head down as he realized what he was stumbling right into.
Another pack was nearby. That had to be it - the sheer weight of their borders slammed against him now, rocking his shoulders and crumpling the fine hairs around his snout. For anyone else, it would have been a clear indication to turn back around, and to retrace their steps back out of this labyrinth of an area. For him, all it took was one glimmer - one tiny note of .. what was that? poppies? .. to get him to take another step forward.
And another. Then another.
One more.
Until he was caressing the edge of the markers, brows furrowed. His body had assumed a neutral posture, but the rogue in him prompted his legs to go tense, the muscles beneath his thighs and forelegs rippling in preparation to duck should a pack wolf deem him up to no good. But this - this smell - it smelled like- like-
Her.
Carefully the mocha-colored male had treaded the incline, his paws delicately scraping against the rocks and pebbles that scattered aside as he moved. A tan chin would lift to greet the sky and the towering stone structures about him, every nerve in his body alert and trip-wired by the suffocating scent of them. A cluster of sensations, each similar to a note in a song, but once combined - an orchestra of colors, faces, voices. A warning and a symbol of harmony, daring wanderers to push forward and greet the heart of the smell.
Recently, Klaus had been going off of nostalgia to get around. For the past week, he had been seeing a white figure slip behind the corners of his vision, slender and soft on his eyes each time he managed a glimpse. He wasn't sure what it was - some vision of his past, maybe - but the phantom figure had led him closer and closer to this place. With bated breath and a mind satiated by adrenaline, he had followed, keeping his nose and head down as he realized what he was stumbling right into.
Another pack was nearby. That had to be it - the sheer weight of their borders slammed against him now, rocking his shoulders and crumpling the fine hairs around his snout. For anyone else, it would have been a clear indication to turn back around, and to retrace their steps back out of this labyrinth of an area. For him, all it took was one glimmer - one tiny note of .. what was that? poppies? .. to get him to take another step forward.
And another. Then another.
One more.
Until he was caressing the edge of the markers, brows furrowed. His body had assumed a neutral posture, but the rogue in him prompted his legs to go tense, the muscles beneath his thighs and forelegs rippling in preparation to duck should a pack wolf deem him up to no good. But this - this smell - it smelled like- like-
Her.
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