Encountering, and escaping, not one but seven coyotes was enough adventure for one day. Although he had taken he cowardly way out, Sachiel knew that fighting the coyotes would not have been the wisest idea. He wasn’t looking to be scolded by his leaders, even though he already knew he was going to receive a verbal lashing for patrolling beyond the shallows on his own. However, he couldn’t keep his findings to himself, even if it meant getting into trouble. He had to notify the Edge Lords of the two separate groups of coyotes he had encountered during his very long day with Mudpie.

Leaving the hazel-eyed girl to her personal quest had been harder than he anticipated—mostly because he was worried that she would encounter another group of coyotes without him. But, he knew that she wasn’t (fully) stupid; she could take care of herself. It wasn’t at all because he was going to miss her, or continue to worry about her. Heck no. He’d likely forget about her in a week or so. Maybe even sooner.

Except, for a boy with photographic memory, forgetting someone was nearly impossible. Especially when they had exciting memories paired alongside their faces.

He meandered toward the Edge Lords’ separate den, his head hanging low as he adopted a more submissive stance. The boy knew he looked like a mess—his fur was still caked with mud—but he couldn’t wait to deliver the news. Sooner the better, he kept telling himself as he trudged through the forest, his tail swinging idly behind him. His nose twitched as he approached the entrance of the den, his chin canted to the side as he let out a soft woof to see if anyone was home…

His ears twitched as one half of the Edge Lords made an appearance, his soft greeting causing the tawny youth to dip his head and avert his mismatched gaze. The dark male’s statement, however, warranted a laugh from the muddy yearling before he nodded his agreement. Sachiel couldn’t deny that… perhaps he should have cleaned up before seeking the presence of his leaders… whatever, it was too late now. A bath could wait until after he delivered his information. Yeah, I’m fine, he hummed in response, but not before a heavy sigh caused his shoulders to fall. First, I wanted t’say apologize for goin’ out on my own. That was stupid. I shoulda asked someone t’go patrollin’ with me. He figured it was best to get that out of the way. Ran into a few more ‘yotes. Two separate groups—one in the ferns, and one close to the rapids. A dark frown creased his tawny features as he spoke, his tail flicking with frustration behind him. Met a loner before seeing the first group and we took off—figured it wasn’t worth the fight—only to discover a group of four ‘yotes at the rush. Sachiel had impeccable luck. They seemed pretty territorial; it’s possible that’s where they’re based out of. He glanced down at his muddy appearance before returning his attention to the scarred male: We headed down the river ’n used the mud to mask our scents. Didn’ wanna bring 'em back here. Or fight ‘em. Not without the pack. The Edge Lords didn’t raise no fool.  

They weren’t mad.

That was all that mattered to the tawny yearling. His dads weren’t mad. Instead they were pleased with his work—hell, he’d even gotten rare Askan-praise! He blinked slowly, dumbfounded by the reaction he had received. The dark duo seemed more peeved by the abundance of coyotes than Sachiel’s solo mission, which worked to his advantage. No punishment—yet.

But what startled the agouti most was that Askan had mentioned he had heard a group of them at the nearby glade. At least a dozen?! His lower jaw popped open slightly as his ears swept back against the back of his crown. He couldn’t stop the top of his snout from wrinkling with disgust. What had attracted so many coyotes to the Lore? Did the western side have the same vermin problem, or were they coyote-free? They were questions he wanted answers to but did not know if he wanted to seek those answers. Not if it would involve him losing skin over a few pesky coyotes.

I can come with you, if y’want? Show you where we saw them? He would mind enduring the walk a second time. Maybe he’d even bump into Mudpie again. His attention snapped back to Reyes as the scarred male mentioned food and he gave a quick shake of his head in response. Not yet, went to find you two first. That was more important. Not like Sachiel would forget what he had seen—it was impossible for him to forget anything—but he wanted to relay it while it was still fresh in his head.  

The longer he remained in their company the stiffer his fur began to feel due to the collection of mud that clung to his tawny pelt. Maybe he should have bathed in the shallows before seeking out his grumpy leaders… but it was too late for that now. He would take a dip in the cool water once he was finished relaying his message (and patrolling the border with them… unless they instructed him to rinse off first).

He nodded gently in response to Askan’s words—food was definitely a good idea. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off Sachiel was realizing how hungry he was. Going on a patrol without a quick bite to eat wasn’t the best idea. So he followed them to the cache without complaint as he struggled to stop his stomach from growling with hunger.

His ears twitched at the golden-eyed Selwyn’s comment about a girl who looked as though a bird shat on her face. Boy, did Askan ever have a way with words. But, the description triggered a recent memory of a girl with brilliant hazel coloured eyes. That’s the girl I was with, he responded after Askan had tossed a rabbit at his paws. She tried rushin’ the first group but I got her outta there before she could get either of us in trouble with 'em. His lips curled upward at the memory.

His mismatched gaze swept over to the scarred leader as he mentioned the pack to the north; Driftwood Surge. I wouldn’t mind goin’, he uttered, almost shyly, before taking another bite out of the rabbit. But I don’ mind stayin’ here either. An’ no more goin’ out alone. He gave a sharp nod to assure his leader, although he wasn’t sure he could promise cancelling his solo adventures. Sachiel didn’t always like pestering his packmates to accompany him—even Hawthorne. Mostly because he worried the peppered youth was going to grow tired of him if he kept bothering her. And that was something he couldn’t allow to happen.