ℜ𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔏𝔢𝔞𝔭

As the traveler explores the territory, they come across a group of wolves led by Rain Leap, a wolf with a mix of light and dark greys in his coat. His sharp eyes catch the traveler's approach, and he greets them with a smirk that seems to teeter on the edge of a challenge.

"Ah, the traveler," Rain Leap says with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, his gaze assessing as if weighing the worth of the newcomer. "So, you're the one Falcon Stalk's been talking to. Fancy a tour of our little piece of the world?"

The words are casual, almost dismissive, but there's an underlying edge, a test hidden within the offer. As they begin to walk, the forest around them seems to come alive—shadows shifting, the rustle of leaves echoing in the distance, and the ever-present chorus of bird calls filling the air. Rain Leap moves with a confidence that suggests he knows every inch of this land, his steps unhurried, yet purposeful.

He points out various landmarks with a nonchalant air, his tone betraying a subtle pride. "You know, not everyone in the pack has that mystical connection to the forest or the birds," he remarks, glancing at the traveler out of the corner of his eye. "Some of us are just regular wolves trying to get by. Falcon Stalk and her spirits, though—well, that's her thing."

There's a faint scoff in his voice, as if the idea of communing with spirits is both amusing and unnecessary. Yet, despite his dismissal, there's a hint of something deeper, a respect begrudgingly given even if he doesn't fully understand or share in it.

He pauses, glancing at the traveler as if sizing them up once more. "Bet you're wondering why Dancing Light's the Beta and not me, huh?" His voice carries a bitter edge now, a flicker of old wounds surfacing. "Yeah, still a bit salty about that. But hey, that's pack life for you. Not like Falcon Stalk and I talk much these days anyway," he adds with a shrug, a flicker of something unspoken passing through his eyes before he quickly masks it with a practiced indifference.

The silence that follows is heavy, the traveler acutely aware of the tension that lingers beneath Rain Leap's seemingly carefree demeanor. It's clear that there's more to his story, something deeper that he's not willing to share with a stranger.

They reach the river, the sound of rushing water filling the air, a stark contrast to the quiet tension between them. Rain Leap stops, his gaze fixed on the clear water as it flows past. "If you're thirsty, here's the spot," he says, nodding towards the river. "The forest can be a bit eerie at first, but you get used to it. Just don't let the birds freak you out. They're always watching."