In a forest, far from the cities and villages of the world, on one of the higher branches of the largest and oldest oak tree in the forest, sat a small green boy eyeing a piece of parchment. He had been doing this for the better half of the morning. Sometimes he'd stare at it. Sometimes he'd sniff it. Once he had tasted it, but the black liquid it was stained with tasted foul, so he refrained from tasting it again.
The parchment itself was made from a tree, he knew that much, but it was not any tree from his forest. The stains were not like the stains left by water, sap, or blood. These stains were thin and curvy, and repeated in specific patterns. At first he had mistaken them for ants. What these patterns meant, he could not tell, though they did mean something. He did not know what this thing was, or why it was here, but he knew it had not been blown into his forest by accident. He did not know how he knew, it was just a feeling he had. "I wonder... what is this thing that blew into my forest?" the boy mused aloud.
It was at that point that the boy smelled something else. Something much more familiar. Something just a bit musky. The boy looked down and saw a white she-wolf with a line of black fur trailing down it's back to it's tail. The boy was not frightened of the wolf, as you might expect, but rather excited. "Why, if it is not Streak! A good morning to you, my friend!" The wolf looked up at the boy excitedly but said nothing, as wolves do not talk. "Streak, I have a problem, and I believe you can help me fix it!" The boy shouted down to her. The she-wolf, Streak, just continued looking up at the boy excitedly, not understanding a thing he said as she still could not talk.
The boy began clambering down the great oak's massive trunk head first, much more like a squirrel than a boy, before coming to rest in front of Streak. "This strange thing has blown into our forest, and I am certain that it is not here by mistake. But I do not know where it is from, or what it means? Can you help me?" While Streak may not have known what the boy was saying, she knew he had given her a scent to follow. It didn't smell like food to her, but the boy often requested strange things of her nose. She supposed this was no exception. She let out a howl to tell the boy she had found the scent's trail, and he excitedly hopped on her back. "Thank you, Streak! I do not know how, but I will make it up to you!"
And with that, the boy and the she-wolf took off, destined for adventure in the land beyond the forest.