Turtleback Lake Tempests

The night was heavily approaching and for the young man growing closer to the lake, it was a happy sight to behold. Though, he found his blue eyes scanning the surface of it for signs of waves. He had never quite encountered a large body of water that was not an ocean and so he was curious about the nature of a freshwater lake. Streams, freshwater tide pools, rivers, and creeks had all been his primary source of hydration throughout most of his life so far. Marcelo found the body of water to be largely unremarkable in comparison to the sea, though still holding a simple beauty to it. It might have been more stunning during a sunrise or a sunset when it wasn't dark and lightly raining. Each raindrop made its own impression on the surface and he simply squinted and watched as the surface became tumultuous.

If he'd had someone with him he would have been happy to opine that the difference between an ocean and a lake was vastness. He missed the curious nature of what lay on the other side. For, with a lake, he could see the island even in the dark, and the shape of something else beyond it that must be land as well. He was feeling maybe a bit nostalgic for a home he'd lost as a boy. Silly that it would still plague him when it had been just over a year ago. It might have been better if he hadn't lost his father on his journey.

With a soft puff of indignation at his own sad thoughts, he turned to follow the shore. At some point he'd spot some shelter to hunker down for the night. He followed it with the water to his left, stepping carefully as shadows began to consume the land, his ears down and tail limp.

Jethro had grown accustomed to living near the lake. He hadn’t quite nailed down where exactly he hoped to settle a future pack, but that was alright. What mattered more right now was taking care of everyone in the group, most especially the two kids. By now he had good bit of knowledge about everyone’s scents, their habits, and where they tended to linger.

This area didn’t seem to be too heavily populated by their kind, which was both a benefit and drawback. So to come across a new trail within relatively close proximity of his group, was somewhat unusual, and a little bit concerning after what’d happened with Flair.

The trail led right down to the edge of the lake, where, absent any trees to block the view, picking out a silhouette some distance down was not too difficult a task, even with the waning light. Tipping his head back, the dark one issued a short call, a greeting, and an invitation for the stranger to meet and converse, if he wished.

Jethro opted to approach, hoping the other would accept and prove amicable because he really didn’t feel like having to try to sneak around to keep tabs on someone else. Or worse, deal with some kind of shitty confrontation. But if it came to that, he’d prefer it was him first rather than someone else.

The stones beneath his paws were oddly smooth but he liked them, he supposed. It was different than sand that gritted between his toes with each depression downward. Now and then the water would lap the shore just far enough up to touch his toes. This water was fresh, of course, so the feeling against his toes was not the same. Either way, there was a tranquil and relaxing sensation walking through such a place. To allow himself such freedoms. He only wished it was easier to get rid of the thoughts in his head that bounced here and there, reminding him of what he was missing.

A summons on the air did pique his interest, however. Marcelo came to a stop and turned to look at the stranger. At first, he did not see them, though after a moment of looking he did. Movement aided him in pinning down the wolf that approached. Marcelo's face shifted first to some excitement, then to disappointment, and then as if he had seen a ghost. Here before him was a man that could be his brother or his uncle. Clad in black exactly like his father. And though he wasn't close enough to see the man's eyes, the green would haunt him too.

Marcelo, though, did not wish to be rude. "Pardon! I hope I'm not intruding or anything of the sort," he offered. His voice was light and he encouraged a smile to appear again upon his lips. It wasn't the man's fault he'd thought of his father upon seeing him.

The other, thankfully, acknowledged Jet’s call and turned about. Though the dark one was not quite close enough to make out the exact expression the other wore, based on how he’d carried himself, and the greeting, this one seemed decent enough. Young, too, Jethro realized, as he closed in, flashing a wry grin.

About the same age, it seemed, as when he’d chosen to head out. How different he’d been, in comparison to this stranger, though. Just because this young man didn’t appear to carry any scents with him, didn’t necessarily mean he didn’t belong to a pack somewhere nearby. At this point though, Jet knew better than to assume that.

”Naw, you’re not, just don’t seem to meet many newcomers around here.” If the stranger was worried about that, it seemed even more likely his intentions were good. With his own concerns diminished, Jet now hoped he could set the other at ease. ”So I wanted to come out and greet ya. Name’s Jethro, or Jet.”

As always, he had ideas, hopes, and an agenda in mind. But the words were no less true. Conversations with strangers were rare, and Jet had come to enjoy them a lot more, because of that. Most of the time, anyway.