keys are in the truck, truck’s in the harbour + joining

You meet a lot of interesting people when you hitchhike. There’s the good people, who tell stories and offer food, there’s the bad people, who’ll try to take advantage of you in your vulnerable state, and then there’s the oddities, like old people who claim the moon is a hologram. Still, they’re all the same; they’re merely people on the road, and you always have to say hello, and then goodbye. The only thing you have to focus on when on a trail, that thing being your goal.

It had been more than a year since he had gotten split up from his old group on the way to the mountains, and he had been aching for the clan lifestyle ever since. Those people were his friends, all of them. There was even a particular girly he had eyes for. But that’s all history. Now is what’s most important. After travelling for a while with a specific individual, whom Wendell was very much fond of, stories of these other clans had been shared, sparking an eager interest in the wolverine. A particular clan had enthralled him than the rest. It was one of cold and snow, where the people were kind and conflicts weren’t the norm. Wendell was aware that his species was meant for harsh freezing temperatures, along with the kind personalities that he had been attracted to before.

Following an undeclared timeframe of travelling and searching, he had found a place that matched the description from before. Beautiful snowflakes shimmered throughout the air, forming a soft blanket once they softly rested upon the ground. Tall pines were beauteous as a sparkling coat of snow glazed their branches. This was the place. He was surprised to find his body temperature unaltered. That fur that kept him sweltered in the heat was finally good for something. Trekking forward in the foreign feeling of powder, Wendell was determined to find the mystical clan of tale. Maybe this time they won’t all ditch me on the way t’ somewhere.