Hawke jerked awake, body seizing with the instinctive panic that had torn him from a dreamless sleep. His claw dug automatically into the ground, steadying the heft of the wolf as his mind raced through years of careful, intentional, conditioning:
First was his sight. There was a haze, like a thickened fog, blanketed across the forest floor. Each blink cleared away some of the confusion, sharpening focus until he was able to distinguish shadows from shapes once more. Yet, the picture of the world around him remained blurry, unfocused, unclear. His left eye throbbed and strained, desperate to process information to calm the blood racing across his lungs and heart. Eventually the blinks began to show there was no changing what was unseen, which promised that today would be one of those low vision days. It had been sometime since his eye had been so weak, but it was to be expected for the time of year where food was scarce.
Next, his nose. His breathing was erratic from such a rude waking, making it easy for shuddering pants to turn into purposeful, deep breaths. Each inhale brought with it the icy bite of the world around him, filling in the picture of his mind like crayons on a coloring page. The thick scent of winter-soaked trees invaded every cell, relaxing him with the familiarity it brought. His brother's storm-like perfume was stale, meaning his sibling had likely woken up with a far more calm morning and begun to scout for their next meal.
Last, his ears. Twin triangles twisted, picking up the rustling of wind through the pines, and the faint hush that usually threatened before the coldest parts of the year. There was a faint sound of life, the fading bustle of a forest that was preparing for the hibernation of winter. There was nothing but an echo of whatever had stirred him into such a rude awakening. Most importantly, there was no hint of the danger his body had warned him about.

Such disorientation was perhaps about as normal as one could expect when waking up alone. Typically, Hawke's instincts would have been soothed by the ever constant presence of his dispersal brother, Thrush, beside him. The pair travelled in solitude that was only broken by each other, and with the confidence of loners that had survived for years. It had been so long since Hawke had needed to calm himself in such a sudden mental dance, but it had also been quite a few weeks since he'd woken without Thrush at his side.

His paws relaxed in the ground. His anchoring had kept the wolf from leaping up, from further disorientating himself by charging away with instinctive abandon. Had there been any true danger, he would have no doubt already been aware of Thrush's reactions to such stimulus (which would certainly not be quiet). As it was, Hawke appeared to be utterly and totally alone. He stood, and cold wind quickly rushed to steal away the warmth of the spot he'd been resting in. It rustled through the winter-thickened white of his pelt, grabbing at loosened undercoat to quickly whisk away for whatever lucky birds came across it, then settled as the pines began to groan from the force of it. A second later it had returned, a weakened breath in comparison, lazing through the forest.

It also brought with it the faint whisper of sounds, and scents, that would no doubt serve to help him understand just where they were. He'd been chased through the darkness with his brother, territorial teeth ripping them from the cliff-side cave they'd occupied for most of the summer. They'd entered the pine forest and the beasts, which he assumed was a pack of many mouths, had abruptly cut their pursuit off. The brothers had continued deeper into the woods regardless, none to keen to test how far their agitators were willing to search to find them. Yet, not a single one of these pines bore even a hint at the familiarity of the ridge the brothers had called home. Even the rushing wind seemed empty with the known. Thrush had no doubt wanted to retrace their steps from the previous night, to see how far the irritated territory holders had pushed to find them.

Or perhaps, Hawke realized, his brother was simply hungry. His own stomach clenched in emptiness, displeased from expending such energy with so little to replace it. Hawke walked a wide arc, tilting his head to keep the bulk of his chosen path in the good vision of his right eye. Thrush's scent was old, and fading; no doubt it was from the wind, and the cold that made it so hard to track. His paw prints, however, remained in the disturbed underbed of needles, so the elder brother set that as his path.

Step by step, paw after paw, Hawke emptied his mind to anything but the thought of finding his siblings. It wasn't like the other to wander so far, especially in unfamiliar territory. He was a big brother, and it was his job to worry... and Hawke was very good at his job. When the tracks in the pine needles began to fade, his ears flicked back in concern. His breath fogged at the tip of his muzzle, and he stopped in a particularly open clearing between the massive trees. Even as he tilted his head back, Hawke knew this was a bad idea. They'd barely managed to rest after the chase last night, both of them as bitterly hungry as they were cold, but worry drove his actions regardless. If he could not follow Thrush's scent, or his trail, he would simply rely upon their most direct form of communication.

Hawke tilted his head back and howled, letting the powerful sound carry with the breathing gusts of the wind.

The irritating prickle of heat had passed and Mintaka felt so much better. There was a skip to her step and a wag set in her tail - a good mood that refused to be dampened, in spite of the strangeness she was beginning to feel. It was probably all in her head, but something felt different now - she just couldn't quite put her paw on it.

Penny was probably nearby - he had been since they spent the night together, and Mintaka was delighted to have a companion. It felt like she'd gone so long on her own that the addition of a friend alleviated this strange knot in her chest, likely also contributing to the lighter feeling throughout her body.

But she was hungry.

Not much for hunting, but knowing that food was essential - especially for two wolves, now - Mintaka had found the trail of a hare. It was tough to track through the snow and trees, but she managed well enough, nose twitching and eyes keen on any hint that the lagomorph had been through the area.

She was pretty proud of herself, actually. The scent was getting stronger, and she'd found a pile of droppings that seemed fresh, and then a little tuft of white fur on a low brush. And then, she caught sight of the little thing - barely enough to feed one wolf, let alone two, - but it would have to do.

Crouching down, Mintaka readied herself, tensed her muscles, and leaped.

The hare didn't have time to react, and she was more than pleased with herself as the poor rabbit dangled from her jaws. This would make a decent meal, she figured, stomach growling, annoyed that it had yet to be fed.

Soon she thought to herself, a bounce in her step as she turned to head back the way she'd come. She'd made it only a few feet before a sound stopped her in her tracks.

A howl, unfamiliar, and not far away. Curiosity dictated her, and Mintaka turned on her heel, heading instead toward the voice.

It didn't take long to come across him, white and brown and black that blended pretty well with the snowy area. Mintaka huffed around the hare, letting her tail wag in a way that hopefully suggested she was friendly as she traipsed into the clearing.

The silence that found him was possibly more concerning than it had been before. It wasn't as if Hawke had expected a quick reply from his brother- but he certainly hadn't expected to be ignored. The last of his call seemed to linger and echo across the pine covered forest floor, and the brute twisted his ears forward as if he might strain to hear the smallest call... but nothingness was his only companion in that long moment. Thrush was grown. They'd been raised together as pups, suffering through the same challenges until each was well prepared to face the outside world. Last night had not been the first time the pair had been chased from pack lands, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but it didn't stop the elder brother from worrying. Wasn't that his job, after all? They may have been born mere minutes apart, but Hawke would always be the older of the two.

Nerves twitched his ear and tail, fur rustling before it flattened back against his spine. He paced, a quick movement back and forth to ease the unsettling feeling welling in his chest. The path of his brother's scent seemed to lead out in the more open areas of whatever territory they'd wandered into, but Hawke was hesitant to leave the shelter of the pine forest. The thickened tree line seemed to block the worst of the cold wind, and it would no doubt be hard to find shelter in an open area.

There was a lingering anxiety in his chest when the brute eventually chose to turn, returning to where the pair had slept the night before. It was not fancy by any kind of standard, but it was familiar. If- no, when Thrush returned, he would no doubt return to there. Hawke had already begun to craft quite the lecture for when his sibling returned, and he was considering starting a fight just to make sure the point was made. He was so utterly engrossed upon his thoughts that the male nearly didn't hear the faint squeak of a prey animal's life cut short, and the shuffle of the struggle that followed.

Stilling, Hawke's body tensed. His vision was still clouded and foggy, his eye having stubbornly not cleared just yet. The brute turned his head to the side, allowing his strong right eye to take in as much of the space as he could. There was the shuffled pine needles from his and Thrush's steps, and the wind that rustled through the lower ferns that poked through the forest bed. The wind brought the scent of blood forward, and the wolf lowered his head in response. While they had not smelled a territorial claim when escaping into these woods, it would be foolish to ignore the possibility that they were claimed... or that the pack from the previous night had not chosen to follow the pair and settle whatever score they seemed to bear. His body language was cautious, tail stilling in a line against his silhouette; whatever it was he sought to prepare for, it couldn't have been further from the reality that presented itself.

A slim ghost of silver and white, scent fresher than the fallen snow around them, burst forth. Between her jaws dangled a rabbit, further proof that life existed in this forest if one knew where to look. Hawke's ears twisted back on his head, which lowered towards the ground as the female neared. It wasn't until she was near enough for his partially obscured sight to see the wagging of the wraith's tail that his tense posture seemed to relax... at least, just enough. She didn't seem to bear the powerful perfume of a pack, but there were multiple scents that seemed to surround her as she neared.

Fearless, wasn't she? While Hawke was certainly not one that was inclined towards friendliness, he wasn't about to start a fight when it seemed like the other had no intention of the same. Slowly, the male allowed the long length of his tail to sway lazily, returning the friendly wag with a far more subdued one of his own.

It took a second or two, but the other wolf's tail slowly started to sway, and Mintaka took that as a personal victory. She wouldn't blame him for being frightened of her - after all, she was pretty scary (she wasn't) - but it was nice to know she hadn't intimidated him.

He was a little bigger than her, a little older. Pretty and spotted in a way that almost reminded her of Penny, and a little of Kane, but he had much more white on him, so perhaps he was more similar to Baal? Regardless, his fur was unique in its own way, and not for the first time, Mintaka was a little jealous of his spots.

Setting down the hare and moving a little closer, but not too fast, since that tended to overwhelm people, Mintaka let her own head lower to mirror his own. Was this a type of greeting? Was he scared? It was difficult to tell.

"Hi," she said, smile bright on her lips and tail still swishing behind her. It was always nice to meet someone new, and it took her mind off of the strangeness she was experiencing somewhere deep in her body.

Tipping her head to the side, Mintaka continued, "Were you calling for somebody?" Probably not her specifically, but it sounded like maybe he was trying to get someone's attention. Maybe he needed help?

The wolf had never really been the type to prefer caution, but being a loner was a task in and of itself. The pair had often stayed on the edges of their old pack lands to combat this- it was far less likely to be killed by family, after all. Yet, in the times of the year where fighting for territory became common, it was all too easy to simply slink away when eyes were upon you. Loners didn't exactly have claim to anything like safety and security. Hawke realized it would certainly have been worse without his sibling, and was grateful for Thrush in that regard.

Yet, as he watched the silver hued female observe him with a sparkle in her eyes, he couldn't help but find himself momentarily confounded by the sheer difference in what he'd come to expect. It wasn't his first time stumbling upon another loner, either. Most of the time, they'd given others like them a berth that was only slightly less than they may have given to a pack. Yet, she trotted forward with confidence. It was as if she didn't fear what he could do, or perhaps simply didn't bother to acknowledge the risks that came with coming across another in the wilds. His ears were turned forward, both his eyes silently observing as the other first mirrored his posture, then took her own with a bright smile and swish of her tail. It was so utterly at odds with anything he could have possibly predicted; even his own family hadn't greeted him with such exuberance.

Dorothy was quickly beginning to realize that he wasn't in Kansas any longer.

She chirped out a welcome, moving close enough that he could begin to parse through the various layers of her scent. Beyond the cool freshness of snow was a hidden undercurrent of berries, cut through by the various other's she'd met that clung to her pelt. Further still, something else lingered with a feeling that tickled a memory he couldn't quite grasp. Where had he come across a smell like that before? Hawke faintly wondered how frequently she stumbled across loners like him to have such an amalgamation without a pack to call home. Or, perhaps, she did?

Hello. he replied simply, lifting his head while she neared and tipped her own. He was still, allowing her to approach while taking no steps of his own. It wasn't necessarily that he was as wary anymore, but more that the brute didn't wish to startle her into a reaction (not that it seemed possible, she seemed more the type to play than to run). He instinctively hesitated to answer her question, wary to give away anything that might be perceived as weakness. After a moment of contemplation Hawke spoke once more, his voice careful in what it revealed.

I was calling for my brother. He often likes to.. scout ahead, when we travel.