In the vibrant town of Magnolia, with its neatly structured buildings and alluring Western aesthetic, Rockie, a werewolf with a canine personality, roamed the bustling streets, their two-legged gait accompanied by the rhythmic thuds of boots against the cobbled pavement. Always on the lookout for opportunities to assist those in need, Rockie's insatiable thirst for adventure propelled them forward, their canine charm captivating those around them. But on this particular day, as Rockie went about their usual rounds, their sensitive nose detected something peculiar in the air. A scent that danced on the edge of familiarity, tickling at the recesses of their memory.

It wasn't the aroma of a person they knew, but rather, the fragrance of a place that held deep significance. "Iceberg," Rockie whispered, the name rolling off their tongue like distant thunder rumbling in their ears. The birthplace they had left behind months ago, was a world of untamed wilds and cherished memories. An unyielding determination ignited within Rockie's heart, pushing them to chase after the source of that reminiscent scent. A mix of excitement and trepidation coursed through their veins, propelling them forward, their footfalls steady as they bounded along on their two legs, boots leaving a brief imprint on the ground with each step. As they darted through the labyrinthine streets of Magnolia, Rockie's mind churned with flashes of their life in Iceberg.

The camaraderie within their pack, the whispered secrets amidst hidden glens, and the freedom that came with being enveloped by nature's embrace. Rockie's soul yearned to reconnect with those cherished moments, to feel the untamed spirit flowing in their veins once more. In the heart of the town, standing tall and proud, was the majestic cathedral, its ornate architecture beckoning toward the heavens. It served as both a sanctuary for the faithful and a landmark for the wandering souls drawn to Magnolia's enchanting allure. With a canine-like curiosity, Rockie's gaze fixated on the cathedral, even as their nose led them closer to the scent that tugged at their heartstrings.

The thought of a potential connection between their past and the present hovered in their mind, tantalizingly close but still out of reach. The day pressed on, shadows lengthened, and the promise of discovery lingered in the air. Yet, time seemed to slip through Rockie's fingers like grains of sand, as they weaved through the vibrant streets, their search becoming both a journey into the unknown and a pleasant stroll down memory lane.

It seemed that Silver Fang was hardly the only wolf to have left Iceberg recently it seemed. He'd arrived in the Magnolia and joined Fairy Tail shortly after arriving, but that was all quite recent. Had it been a month? Two? Either way, the sights and sounds of Magnolia seemed non-stop. There was always something to do if one sought excitement. Having a guild backing him made finding work easy, even at his relatively low level.

His own steps were light, silent, even as he moved with confidence. Aquamarine eyes slid around from left to right and back again while he walked, drinking in the view as he so often did while wandering the streets of Magnolia. For now, at least he wasn't doing anything important beyond exploring the place he had come to make his home.

However he paused as he heard a noise, his ears quivering and flicking before he glanced around to see what the noise was before keen eyes landed on the approaching canine, he blinked at the energy with which the other approached him, turning to face them, eyes locking with theirs. Assuming that he was the source of the scent the other sought that eye contact would be maintained leading Fang to believe that this other canine was here for him, curious as he waited to see what they wanted, though his own nose, much like that of the one who sought him, caught that familiar homeland scent, though perhaps his own nose was not so keen as the nose of the other. Or maybe the scent of their homeland had simply faded.

Whatever the case a nose was hardly needed to think that Fang was likely from Iceberg given his sense of dress, and the fur mantle he wore across his back. The mantle in question was a gift from his mother, made from her fur long ago to help keep him warm. In that sense at least memory of home would never truly leave him, the scent of his mother would always be beside him, a constant mild comfort to his senses. Strong and gentle at the same time.

He met the other canine in front of a cafe, though Fang had been debating going to a bar he found recently that served Iceberg brews. In particular, he was fond of the mead they served with a mix of honey and a special blend of snow-berries.

"Can I help you... Cousin?" He asked as he faced them, someone both new and familiar at once. Addressing them as "cousin" because he was unsure at a glance whether he should instead call them "brother" or "sister", in which case he defaulted to a polite and less gendered term of address, and left it up to the other wolf how they wish to be referred to. But at least in his village everyone had been referred to as a family, so everyone was brother, sister, cousin, aunt, uncle, or pibling.

Rockie's heart raced as they locked eyes with the unknown "werewolf". A mischievous grin spread across their face, causing their canines to peek out. With a burst of excitement, they dashed towards Silver Fang while proclaiming, "I don't know another werewolf!" Their words trailed off as they reached Silver Fang's side, panting heavily. The other "werewolf" raised an eyebrow and looked at Rockie with mild amusement. "Can I help you... Cousin?" Rockie's eyes widened, and a joyful spark ignited within them. "Cousin? Really?" they exclaimed, barely containing their excitement, Rockie yipped, bouncing on their toes. "I'm Rockie of The Burst Banes!" they proudly introduced themselves. Without giving the other werewolf a chance to speak, Rockie bombarded them with a barrage of questions. "What pack do you belong to? Are there more werewolves in the city? What's your favorite food? How long have you been in town?"

The questions tumbled out one after another, leaving the other werewolf struggling to get a word in edgewise. Rockie continued their line of questioning, focused on the cousin's unique attire. "You dress like a lot of the elders in our pack,[/color]" they observed, tilting their heads. "Did you catch and skin them yourself as the elders do? Wait, let me tell you about this hunt when I was just a pup, with some of my pack members who went on a hunt to get special fur for a jacket. It was so much fun! We chased down this huge sliver bear and I remember rolling in the snow and... wait, where was I? Oh, right! Clothes! I don't wear things like that because it makes me feel like an old wolf, And besides, my clothes stretch, so when I go 'full wolf,' I don't ruin them. It's more practical, don't you think?" Rockie paused briefly, but only to take a breath before continuing their soliloquy. The monologue seemed never-ending, and Rockie's words blended together like a symphony of excited chatter Finally, with a dizzy head and a light-hearted sigh, Rockie seemed to notice their companion's dazed expression. "Oh, sorry! I got carried away. I tend to talk a lot when I'm excited." Rockie's words trailed off, their voice filled with genuine concern.

Fang wasn't sure why the other wolf was so excited at his question, perhaps it had been a long time since his cousin had been back to Iceberg to see their family. And apparently, his wolf features also caught the attention of the others.

Fang would have moved to speak but each time there seemed to be a chance the other wolf seemed to take a breath and jump right back into his questions and speech.

Eventually, Fang gave up trying to reply and decided to just wait until the other was clearly done or indicated they were done speaking. He didn't mind listening, though they sure could spit a lot of words very quickly.

But eventually, when the other made it clear that it was his turn to speak he nodded. "My name is Silver Fang, I belong to the clan Winter Storm, and I am the son of Silver Claw and Iron Fang." The names of his parents likely didn't mean much aside from indicating how Fang got his name, being a blend of their names.

"My mantle was made from my mother. She has magic to transform herself into a large dire wolf, and the fur was taken from her in that form to create my mantle. No creature was slain to create it." He explained simply.

Then he paused as he remembered the way that Rockie referred to them. "I am not a werewolf. Though I am related to some, I personally am not one. My nose and ears are keen, but I imagine yours are keener still." He said tapping his own nose.

"Whatever the case it is good to meet you, Cousin Rockie." He said nodding to them before glancing around a little. "Care to join me for a meal? We can chat as we eat." He offered, though he doubted the other wolf would do much eating, that was okay since that would mean he could eat while Rockie talked if they so wished.

Rockie's ears perked up at the mention of food, their mind shifting gears from endless chatter to the tantalizing promise of a delicious meal. Suddenly, all the questions that had flooded their mind just moments ago dissipated into thin air, replaced by the irresistible lure of a satisfying feast. With their face alight with excitement, Rockie eagerly turned to Silver Fang. Rockie's stomach growled audibly as their nose twitched at the scent of delicious food wafting through the air. Their excitement at the prospect of a meal momentarily overshadowed any confusion about Silver Fang's werewolf status.

With their tail wagging eagerly, Rockie turned to their newfound cousin. "Oh, food! You had me at 'meal'," Rockie exclaimed, their voice practically dripping with anticipation. "Do you know any good places to eat around here? I mean, I know there are a bunch of restaurants and stuff, but I've only tried a few. I could really use some recommendations!"

Well, at least when it came to food they were of like minds. "Assuming you eat meat, then certainly." He said before waving Rockie along to follow him as he led the way. "I feel like steak." He almost almost did. "How about you? I'm sure they serve more than just a fine stake at the place, but I've never asked myself." His desire for things like fruits and vegetables was much less after all. Always a side dish, never the main course, unless he was eating with someone else on their dime then he'd usually eat whatever was put in front of his face.

Getting to the place in mind, it ended up being a bar, though it did indeed serve food, and some very fine food at that. At least it was in Fang's estimation. The way they seasoned their steak was frankly divine, and Fang could not have praised it much higher than he already did. There was one place that was fancier and served even better bacon-wrapped steak, but the place was on the expensive side. The steak here was delicious and economical too. "Fine here? Like the smell of the place?" Fang asked as the place smelled perfect to him, at least aside from the corner of the room where all the smokers went. But aside from that the place was nearly close to perfect to Fang.

Rockie's nose tingled with the irresistible aroma of sizzling meat as they followed Silver Fang to the bar, their tail wagging excitedly. Upon entering the establishment, their senses were overwhelmed by a symphony of mouthwatering scents. The sound of sizzling steaks filled the air, beckoning Rockie to their gastronomic paradise. "Oh, boy! This place smells amazing!" Rockie exclaimed, their voice filled with unabashed enthusiasm. "I can practically taste the juicy tenderness of those steaks on my tongue! Lead the way, Silver Fang, and let the feast begin!"

In their usual exuberant manner, Rockie bounded towards an empty table, gesturing for Silver Fang to join them. With a flick of their tail, Rockie plopped onto the seat, their eyes scanning the menu in anticipation. "[color=#0066ff]Alright, let's see what we've got here!" Rockies chirped, their finger tracing the different items on the menu. "Ah, the classic steak. Can't go wrong with that!" As the waiter approached, Rockie flashed them a wide, friendly grin that showcased their carnivorous delight. "Good evening! I'll take two steaks, please, medium-rare. And is it possible to have a side of bacon with that? You know, just to add an extra layer of awesomeness!" The waiter's eyes widened at the sheer audacity of Rockie's request, but they couldn't help but be charmed by the lighthearted werewolf's infectious enthusiasm. " Um, yes, sir. We can accommodate that," the waiter replied with a hint of amusement. Rockie's tail wagged furiously as the waiter walked away. Rockie leaned back in their chair, a satisfied grin on their face. They looked at Silver Fang, their eyes twinkling. "I have a feeling this meal is going to be legendary. We'll feast like kings and warriors, indulging in the most succulent of steaks and the crispiest of fries. Brace yourself, my friend. We're about to embark on a gastronomic adventure!"

"The food here is pretty good, yeah." Fang agreed as it seemed the place suited Rockie well enough, grabbing a table with them and getting comfortable before a waitress came to take their orders.

The fact that Rockie wanted a side of bacon with their steak was amusing to Fang though. It reminded him of the time he'd ordered Filet mignon at a different restaurant. However when it came to that food, the bacon was wrapped around the steak rather than just on the side. It had tasted fantastic to Fang.

Fang just ordered a normal steak for himself with a side of fries. He wasn't super hungry at the moment, so he didn't need a whole lot of extra. What he got would be good enough.

"Gastronomic?" Fang asked mildly puzzled. "I've never heard that word before. But judging from the context I suppose that has something to do with food or eating?" He asked, mildly unsure, but unbothered as he relaxed in his seat.

"You certainly make it sound like you expect this to be a meal of epic proportions." He noted with a chuckle. "It will be delicious though, I agree. Though I am not sure it's something that would say be suitable for a feast." He noted lightly with a shrug. "Whatever the case I hope you enjoy your meal."