It had been three days now. Three days since he had caught the scent of other wolves near by, and they were close. He had been alone on his travels for a little bit over a year now, nearly forgetting how to socialize with another being. This was the first time in a very long time that he was stricken with such a cautious demeanor. He wandered around, just outside of the border, away form harms way, analyzing the situation, not wanting to upset the ever so delicate balance when he stepped forward for acceptance. Beneath this tree is where he had slept, paced and waited for three days. Pacing back and forth, tip toeing upon a tight rope of indecisiveness. Idle paws were the Devil’s playground. Unknowing how to go about the situation at paw. He knew he should act kind and courteous, that much was obvious, he was no fool. But it was a bit of a puzzle, what if they were vicious tuned beasts that wanted nothing to do with the likes of him? Of course he’d have to change his tone and personality all together just so he wouldn’t get eaten alive. What if they were the polar opposite of what he just thought? That they were kind and caring souls who wouldn’t dream of hurting a hare, unless they were hungry. What if-UGH! He was thinking so much it had begun to give him a headache. He could feel the vein on his forehead throb from the mess inside his head. With a deep sigh, he gave up, he’d just have to wait and find out for himself what kind of greeting he had in store.

Without even noticing, as if his legs had a mind of their own, he found himself pacing around the tree once more. His large paws crunching upon the blanket of snow that graced the land. They barely had time to sink fully into the ground to create cavities before his weight shifted upon another paw then another, each replacing the last. His cranium hung low to the ground as he let his thoughts engulf him once more. From a stranger’s eyes this would’ve seem almost comical, a large male like himself, dosing around a tree, pressing the snow down into a worn out trail. He was so wound up you could’ve stuck a key into his back and twisted it and he would just pace for hours and hours just like a wind up toy.

Fenrir shook his head of his thoughts, allowing them to disperse in a frenzy. He stared at the land just ahead of him and emitted a deep sigh. His ribcage expanding as he inhaled a large amount of oxygen, then exhaled and watched his breath transform into smoke. Elevating and twirling up into the sky, as if it was composed of tiny dancers soon to disappear. He finally allowed himself some peace of mind and began to walk slowly toward the border. His talons creating grooves each time he picked his paw up to lessen the distance between himself and the territory, kicking up snow as he quickened his pace to a trot.

Upon reaching the border, Fenrir stood there and waited in silence. You could hear the howls of Winter, as it rode upon the back of the wind. He didn’t need to call out into the unknown. He wasn’t stupid and sure knew the strangers he was soon to encounter weren’t either. He was perfectly aware of his location, upwind, the pack could easily smell his existence if they wanted to. He wouldn’t stand there and shout, nor enter the territory unannounced; he was brought up better than being down right rude. They’d come when they’d want to, it was their land after all. Truth of the matter is he was probably already being watched.

The depths of the forest’s shadows was such a deceitful thing, so perfect for camouflage. He narrowed his eyes and stared, trying to find some form of movement near the underbrush. He could sense the forest as a unit, drilling its eyes into his core, tempting him to walk just a step closer so it can engulf him and never spit him out.

Herb collecting in winter was unfavorable on young Genevieve's paws. Digging at frozen ground to get a herb of barley useful size made her wonder if it was worth the trouble. But in the end examples of past injuries made Genevieve shove away all doubt and continue on; the most recent being Warrior Chiara's interaction with a nasty porcupine. Ever so slowly the snow was beginning to lessen, winter hung now like an unsteady quilt upon a thin thread. How soon until the quilt was flocked away by warmer winds, only to be replaced by the beautiful spring?

The very thought of sprint brought life to the fae's freezing heart. Spring in her old territory was a lovely temperature, one which did not make her pelt become overheated nor become chilled, would it be the same here? Good I hope so... Genevieve wished consciously, cream stubs stopping as the mahogany eyes drifted to gaze at the vibrant sky. Ah! Did her eyes deceive her? A miniscule shadow was displayed across the ivory snow, prove that the bird above was no mere mirage. Eying her with little curiosity, the bird, now perched on a high branch, let out a soft call. How could such an average bird be so glorious to her heart? He must have upheld the "early bird caught the worm" motto as the robin was the first sighting by Genevieve that spring was indeed brushing away that winter quilt.

"Wait! Wait, where are you going?!" Waving his tail in short circle, as if bidding her goodbye, the robin began to flee from her sights. Hopping from branch to branch, flying in spurts, Genevieve quickly followed the bird. Eventually the robin picked up his pace and flapped vigorously, as if trying to escape from her. By now the cream fae was in a full run, her breath flying behind her, becoming visible from the winter chill. Oh! Get back here! Genevieve felt like screaming up to the agitating creature, why would he not let her gaze upon his beauty for just a while longer? The orange-red breast of the bird was clearly visible through the bear branches and white clouds high above but suddenly, he was gone.

Oh....poo! Swiping the ground out of aggravation, Genevieve felt like her older sister, Esmeralda, in the breath moment. Huffing, still aggravated, and trying to catch her breath, Genevieve took a deep inhale of the frigid air. Hmm? Raising her eyebrow, Genevieve suddenly became intrigued by a sudden scent. Genevieve, after a moment of mental conflict, decided to follow the scent only to realize she was at the border, and at the border a male awaited ever so patiently. "Ahem..." Genevieve cleared her throat to gain his attention. The petite fae, feeling just that, petite, compared to the large male, eyed build while she waited for him to acknowledge her presence. Would he hurt her? The thought sent a shiver down her spine, her eyes widening at the treacherous thought. Oh...I should have brought Esmeralda... what if something did happen? I will just have to fight, fight with my last breath, there really is nothing else I can do.

((Sorry for such a late reply, my computer overheated last night and shut down on me D:))

It seemed like hours had passed when in fact it was only minutes. Minutes barely fleeting by as he stood there rigidly, eyes fixated on the forest, aching to see some sort of movement. It was only him and the forest now, that deceitful forest. It seemed to have a life of its own, he swore he saw some of the trees begin to move or maybe it was just his lack of sleep finally getting to him. He stared down at his paws, flexing them, watching his claws stretch out and stroke the ground. Studying the marks that they had left, they had scraped back some of the snow, Fenrir could see the grass now popping through.

Fenrir hadn't moved an inch since he arrive at the border. He stood there perfectly still, body completely still like a statue. His eyes were able to peel away form the forest, for a moment. The environment seemed to be changing. Going through a metamorphosis if you will, it was shedding its wintery cloak to adapt to a warmer climate. He noticed how the grass was starting to pop through the snow in triumph. The snow that had frozen the trees in place was now melting ever so rapidly, day by day. Very soon, life would be plentiful again and winter's chill will just be a memory.

He was so caught up on looking around with dazed eyes that he hadn't noticed the fair colored female that had cleared her throat. He knew someone was going to find him eventually, he just didn't know it would be so soon. Nearly jumping in place from being startled, Fenrir scrambled to compose himself, his eyes shooting wide as he snapped his head to find where the sound had originated from. His face was blank, barely knowing how to start this whole acceptance thing. After all this is the first time he had ever done this. He could practically feel himself sweating from the pressure that he forced upon himself.

“H-Hello miss..” Fenrir choked out, his voice shaking slightly, more than he would have liked. He'd rather not have a stranger see him as weakling, it wasn't the best first impression to make, wouldn't you agree? He shook his head gently, allowing his fur to toss around, removing anything that might have been trapped in there, before he dipped his head down in respect, a little bit too much respect, for it nearly hit the ground. Smooth. His gold eyes peered up at the female, taking her in, studying her physique and body language. He could sense that she was a bit removed from the whole situation.

Mahogany eyes blinked, once, two, three times before they took in the entire situation. Cream, petite paws shifted on the ground, trying to figure out what to do. The male only gave a simple greeting, so why was it so difficult to reply? His slight stutter in the beginning of his words made Genevieve wonder if the stranger was as nervous as she. Genevieve was the she-wolf of happiness, always with a bright-aura and a dazzling smile, but even she, on occasion, became shy, wanting to crawl under a rock until all was over with. When the male dipped his head, Genevieve stepped forward immediately, her tail still remaining neutral and not showing any dominance, "Please...please raise your head, such a display isn't necessary." The fae said with a questioning tone, not wanting to command him.

Immediately Genevieve's mind swarmed with the possibilities of how this interaction would go; what was his story, his name? She abandoned the thoughts of possibility getting injured and just acted like a normal pack wolf, trying to make the male feel as comfortable as possible. "So...I believe we should get this acceptance thing started, yes? I haven't done very many...I may not be what you're looking for, would you like me to call someone else? Some more..." capable? She let out a rough sigh and gave a feebly smile, feeling shy and unable to be dominant, even over loners.

[Sorry this is so short...writer's block >_>]