Windsong Fjord freaking out the neighborhood

She’d hoped he’d asked. Wolves who couldn’t pick up with subtle hints were hardly worth talking to (even if Big Buzzard was giving her plenty of fodder). Her ears pricked forward, and she waited until she’d found her new spot to speak back up – quiet now, and not just because the fish were already forgetting what happened to her brave little held. Namir leaned down slowly, oh so slowly, a fox’s smile on her face as she made sure to catch the older yearling’s gaze in her own as she hovered just above the gentle waves.

“They steal,” she whispered, smiling all but splitting her face before the wolf dove back into the stream.

Her tail lashed back and forth, and this time, Little Crow made a much faster snap. This little bass was between her pearly white teeth as she reared back, her dainty paws dancing across the stream bottom and back onto shore where she spat her catch out, leaving it to flop around for a moment or two as she glanced back over at her new companion. “Crows ‘re smart. So if it’s information an’ stuff thatcha want, well, I reckon I’m yer girl, Mister Buzzard,” she laughed, teeth like knives as she smiled again.

"They steal,"

And so that fire that had been underneath his chest before was lit again. He didn't mind being rude in this world. He didn't mind taking what he wanted from whoever he picked. It was more than pleasing that Little Crow seemed to possibly share the same mindset. His tail thumped feverishly against the earth as he smiled just as wicked back at her as she lashed about in the water. She was good, real good. Buzzard had done something right by striking up a deal with her even if they hadn't started off on the best paw. Granted they certainly hadn't started off on the worst either.

"I think it'll be a joy to work with you on this search, Little Crow." His eyes shifted from her damp form to the flopping fish on the ground. He wondered if it'd make it back to the shore and into the water - if she let it flop about for too long. Then he thought about it. Did some dumb scaley thing really know how to get back to its home? He really wanted to doubt it but it wasn't every day (or even very often) that the large yearling made company or meals out of fish. Regardless he wouldn't turn his nose up at one now. He was hungry and he hadn't even had to work that hard for the meal. All he had to do was end it off.

thinkin you could wrap up with your next post? or one more from each of us? maybe we can do another thread with them soon -wiggles brows-

Saros is currently going under the alias Big Buzzard or Buzzard - thanks to a name given by Namir

The fish probably would have found its way back – whether it was dumb luck or it knew what it was doing was pretty hard to say, but Little Crow wasn’t much in the mood to find out. Fishing was hungry work, after all, and she didn’t fancy getting all wet and soggy without something to show for it. While Big Buzzard agreed to their terms, the young yearling just grinned, pivoting about on her hindquarters. Like a little red fox, she reared up and arched into the air, pouncing on the bass and snatching it between her teeth. Snapping fragile bones was easy, and then the fish was gone, leaving the fresh taste of copper and scales as she dropped half a body onto the shore.

“Glad t’hear it,” she rumbled, tail finally wagging something proper behind her. With that, Crow leaned back down, content with the little feast she prepared. It wasn’t much, but hell, the other yearling didn’t even have to work for his bit! He could consider it her resume – and clearly, he approved. As she went, the fishing got easier. Surely, hunting in a pair was something that would get easier too.

“Think things ‘re lookin’ up, Big Buzzard.”

Fade.