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You’re hiking the Oregon Cascades when you run upon a familiar set of prints. Fox-shaped, but too large by far - a shifter, like yourself. You’re an alpha of a budding pack who has been searching for an omega. When you finally catch their scent, the feeling within is immediate. You can’t second-guess or explain away the immediate need to find them. You have scented your fated mate. The paw prints are only a few hours old and you begin to follow them, running like the wind after the scent trail they’ve left behind. Finally, you spot them in the distance. They’re swiftly devouring a rabbit they’ve caught and appear oblivious to you. You slow your pace and approach - calling out softly and with a warm tone so as not to frighten them.