Pine

Pine pick up the pace as he rounds a hill. The conifer forest spreads out for miles below his paws. His caramel colored fur blending into the tree bark. He takes a deep breath in, closing his eyes, and lets the scents of the forest flood his mind. Then, with a small, stoic and content smile he romps down the hill with the rest of the scouting patrol. Hailing from the Tundra he is used to the spindly trees, but not in such a vast amount. Now, he lives in the mountains with the Fallen Valley pack as their very first Scout.

- Is one of the oldest wolves in the pack and is treated with great respect.

- The packs storyteller; often speaks of his life in the Tundra or his adventures during scouting.

- Is often nicknamed "grandpa" by the pups and adolescents.

- Joins in with Owl, the oldest wolf in the pack, to spin improvised tales of glory to the pups.

- Hates bears due to them mortally wounding his birth pack when he was an adolescent.

- Likes taking walks through the woods alone to clear his head.

- Often gets caught in daydreams.

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Pine had never seen a sprig so alight with life. There was never a second where the birds stopped their singing, or the sun stopped shining. The streams that snaked through the woods bubbled and laughed along the pebbles and rocks. Pines paw steps fell on the moss a it sank underpaw. He was scouting through the deciduous forest. He had left his pack back at the den while he searched the areas for new territory. He would've been alone, like he usually was, except for the tiny puppy bouncing around at this feet.

"Okay, where do we go from here? Is here a tactic to scouting, or or, oh! A strategy! Is there a strategy?" Briar bounced around.

Pine chuckled and smiled down at the pup. "Take a breath, you'll run out of air faster that a rabbit running from a cougar if you keep all those questions up."

Briar snapped her jaws shut and peered around with mounting excitement. Of course, Pine thought, she's never even been out of the den till now. Pine picked up a trot, letting Briar run by his side. She squealed with happiness and barely avoided toppling over onto her face. She glanced up where a raven had been keeping pace with them. With a big grin, briar bolted around and yipped and feigned dashing towards the large black bird.

"We are going to be crossing the border into the conifer forest soon, stay by my side," spoke Pine. He leapt over a log, pausing to wait for Briars tiny legs to haul herself over. As they walked the terrain slowly turned softer. The roots that snaked their way up in the deciduous forest now disappeared and were replaced with a velvety cushion of pine needles. Briar gawked at the change in scenery. 

"Where are we heading?" She asked.

"The taiga," Pine replied. "It's a bit like this forest but... colder." Pine turned his head to check and see if he was on the right trail. Feeling satisfied that they were going the right way, he let his paws guide him and spoke.

"Briar, when scouting you must always make sure that you are on the right trail, for if you end up getting on the wrong one then you're bound find yourself far away from home."

"How do I know that I'm on the right on?" Briar questioned.

"Well, the more you've been on a trail the more engraved the path is in your memory. You can also smell your way around, the path that leads  towards the smell of the thing you are looking for is usually the right one."

Briar nodded. Pine could see her soaking up all the knowledge about her future role in the pack. Pine was glad that she was excited, not many pups were excited to scout and would much rather hunt.

A breath of wind suddenly ran through the woods. It played with the needles on the trees and wrapped itself in the wolves fur. Pine paused and lifted his head, letting it press his ears back. Briar watched and followed his lead. He opened one eye and squinted at the pup, getting an idea.

"Come on, I want to show you something."

Without hesitation Briar ran over to Pines side, stumbling over a stick as she went.

Pine veered off the trail and rooted around for a second in the bare wood. Soon, he came to a deer trail and followed its winding form. Eventually to trees thinned out abruptly and the ground cleared.

"What is thi-"

"Stay back." Pine cut her off. They stopped just as the ground fell away from them, not far down was a small gorge.  There was a path leading down the sides off the mossy rocks. 

"Lets go lets go!" Briar yelped, already shooting off down the path on the side.

"Watch your paws!" Pine called after her. He followed, the trail winding until finally they had reached the thin stream in at the bottom. He watched Briar speed down the sandy bank, brushing her paws on pebbles and debris that fell from the tops of the gorge.

Pine ambled slowly, following the pup. He was vaguely aware of the pain in his side. It ran along his flank every time he shifted his weight from paw to paw. He grimaced visibly, for it throbbed every now and then, but for the most part Pine squashed it down to avoid worrying the other wolves in the pack. It had slowly gotten worse the past few sunrises, but he was going to keep living for his pack as long as he could. As long as Owl doesn't catch on.

"Come look at this!" Briars voice could be heard from in front of Pine. The gorge slowly leveled up, until it dropped off into a small slope. Ahead, was the long, cold taiga.

"It's beautiful!" Briar breathed.

Pine smiled a weak smile. "Yes it is."

"Lets go! Come on!" Briar bolted down the slope. Pine watched her go and wondered how much energy she had in her body. With a solemn look, he glanced back at the conifer forest. He liked to treat every scout like it was his last, and teaching a whole new generation of wolves to care for the pack was exactly his image of a good scout.