“Where did the rain go?” Vaken’s words were sharp but good humoured. He was only slightly annoyed with the dry climate. It certainly made things harder. He could feel the heat, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been. Fall was certainly coming. He stepped on a twig, crunching it beneath his small paw. “You as thirsty as I am buddy?”

It was a rhetorical question. The scruffy adolescent was learning that it was best to make all his questions like that, let Ferr pick and choose which ones to respond to. It felt good not having to uphold small talk. The boy was free to speak when he wanted to, if he wanted to. Today he was feeling more talkative than usual. He took another step, pawed at a small pine cone, then stopped to watch it tumble towards his small friend. “The creek is around here somewhere.” He could smell it in the air, even if he couldn’t see it.

He brought his foot down, crushing the pine cone with a savage crunch. It turned to crumbs beneath his paw, wedging in-between his toes. It didn’t hurt, but it was a nuisance. They were like thick slivers. He rubbed it against the grass, trying to free them. Only a few came out before he gave up and continued walking. “I think it’s up ahead.” He took a step towards the north, sniffing the air. He squinted, golden eyes narrowed, searching for the waterline. Rather than see the reflective gleam of water, he noticed a bunch of fallen logs stacked high.

Vaken had seen beaver dams before. He was familiar with the structure, but this one was so big. It took him a moment to process what it was, completely bewildered with the tower. “Hey Ferr,” he gestured at the structure with his tail. “You see that?” His eyes glistened, a small malicious grin appearing on his face. “Think we can knock it over?”

Laughter bubbled out of the yearling’s mouth. He watched Ferrieran blink, playful chuckles escaping his mouth. The entire situation had been quite funny. “Nice try!” He snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. There had to be a better way to mess around, didn’t there? Maybe they could climb on top of it, or maybe catch ones of those beavers?

He wasn’t necessarily hungry, but he always enjoyed a little hunt. When his friend finally seemed to catch his breath, the boy strolled over, a smile plastered on his features. “Didn’t work out very well, did it?” He shrugged, glancing over the big damn with his eyes narrowed. “Think we could climb over it?”

The boy would never turn down a snack, especially a fresh one. He wasn’t hungry until the scent hit his nostrils, wafting in fresh meat. It was almost instant. His desire to feast turned on like a light switch, the beaver dam completely forgotten. Impulsively, he turned his head back and forth, searching. His yellowy orange eyes were wide from competitive edge. “First come first serve,” he hissed playfully, his own rendition of first one there is a rotten egg.

He spotted it in the distance, a bit of a run away, then almost instantly bolted into actions.

Vaken was a sore winner. He beamed in pride, his chest out and teeth exposed in a cocky grin. He liked being quick, he relied on it. It made him smug. It didn’t last long though before the meal at his paws caught his attention. Ferreiran seemed to get straight into business, reminding Vaken to follow. It didn’t matter who ate first. These wolves were brothers, best-friends. There was no need to challenge dominance and show respect among equals. He clawed at it, breaking skin so he could eat the soft meat beneath. He swallowed a few mouthfuls before playfully pushing at Ferreiran, attempting to initiate some sort of tag. Despite the fullness, he wanted to run around again. He wasn’t sure if his friend would follow or not, but it was worth the shot.