@notproperlysocialized
The wild wolves here are bold, circling under the buildings and unafraid of lights or noise, their pups tumbling against the metal frames of abandoned vehicles and eyeing him as he passes by, watchful but not aggressive. Curious about him, he thinks, who is like them but not, his fur too thick and too white, his scent winter/paper/smoke rather than dust/metal/bone. He doesn’t try to get too close, content to observe for now, and in turn they do not mind when he trails after them.
Samot learns: the places the wolves skirt around signal traps (not lethal, as far as he can tell, but often loud and unpleasant especially to an animal’s attuned hearing). The rats that live here and remind him at times of cobbins seem of split mind about the wolves, some chasing them away, others treating them as nothing more than an accepted part of the decor. An elderly rat, muzzle greying and paws thin, waits on her doorstep and throws scraps at the pack as it assembles, chattering in pleasure when a yearling noses and licks at her while the rest fall on the food. A squabble erupts between the wolves, snarls and teeth flashing but quickly solved, the offended parties settling down as though nothing had happened. Samot, watching, allows himself a moment to wish all family disagreements were so easily dealt with.
He does not see humans much, only a few meandering like he is, some ducking into buildings. Eventually the wolves’ path takes them by the train station and this is where Samot parts ways with them, opting instead to lope between the benches and studying the maps displayed there, ears flattening back when the trains pull into the station. For the most part no one seems surprised to see a wolf wandering so close, if they notice him at all, and he entertains the thought that perhaps his canine peers use the railways the same as the denizens do. What else is a wolf to do in a city, after all? One gets tired of scraps, and there must be bigger prey somewhere. He thinks he would not mind hunting again sometime.
But that can wait. Draped across a bench, his tail indolently twitching now and then, Samot affects his best inoffensive wild animal look and lays his head down over his crossed paws, settling in for a bit of people watching.
