Swift River Swift River Pack Thread

<blockquote><i>Dec. 14. Late Afternoon, Fog — Current Temperature: 33° F/1° C</i>

Rihael clambered sleepily out of the den, where he had woke up alone, the now-matted and highly worn boar hide scrap dangling from his jaws. Ever since the hunt, it had hardly left his side, and it was now quite the worse for wear. Now he dropped it absently near the den entrance as he stretched his limbs, noting the brisk cold of the afternoon. Fog hung in the air like a cloud, making everything look so... mysterious. The earth smelled cold, wet. Somehow, it all felt lonely. Where was everyone?

He nosed the ground, the oddness of the surroundings and for once, being alone at the den, tugging on his nerves. Was he dreaming or something? Hael suppressed a whine.</blockquote>

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<blockquote>The thick white blanket <span class='word'>cleaved</span> to the grove, and obstructed his daily route to his den. He did know the path, but the new snow, and fog had him disoriented if he really was going where he thought. <b>"Damn fog,"</b> he mumbled through his teeth, his breath a wispy ribbon, adding to the thick whiteness. If it weren't for the fact he could hardly see two feet in front of his nose, and the icicles hanging off his chin he wouldn't have minded it. For the moment he did, and warily pressed on just waiting for someone or even better <i>something</i> to sneak up on him.

After a good slow pace, he believed he could make out the familiar rock outrcropping in the distant. An irriated huff, he picked up his thick limbs hoping to reach the den quicker, and warm himself up in the process. Much like a black shadow he cut through the pale puff.</blockquote>

are you with me through it all?

<blockquote>The mixture of the snow on the ground and the fog in the air left the world around Rihael in a state of white, and it almost seemed as though there was nothing beyond his immediate field of vision. After a few moments, the kid got to his feet, shaking off the snow from his rump with a few quick wags of his tail, and sniffed at the brisk air. The sound of pawfalls came to his ears just then, and they swiveled atop his masked head as he took a few steps forward.

Moments later a dark shape was visible through the mist, and the kid might have been a litte nervous if the smell hadn't been familiar. <b>"Uncle Triell?"</b> he called out, tail wagging slowly, trying to mask the slight apprehension in his voice. Honestly, he was pretty happy someone had come along to get him out of this weird mood, and to prove that he wasn't dreaming. Or alone.</blockquote>

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<blockquote>The closer he walked the more certain he became he was right in trusting his instincts. What surprised him was a slim figure outside, and alone. It was to small to be Indru, or even Kinis. Nose wrinkled, and he once trying to picked up Rihael's scent. A grin worked it's way upon his dark features, and he quickened his step to meet the lad.

When his name greeted his ears, he decided he probably looked just as obscured as Rihael was to him. He let out a sharp woof, <b>"It's me."</b> Soon he spotted the dark orange eyes, and familiar dark shading of the younger Tainn becoming sharping despite the fog encircled them. He stopped short of Hael, and brushed his chin across his leg trying to get rid of the ice bits that hung to his whiskers. <b>"What's up?"</b></blockquote>

are you with me through it all?

<blockquote>Uncle Triell's voice confirmed that he was who he appeared to be. Hael blinked at the darkening shape in the fog as it drew nearer, and soon his uncle's features came into view. Tail wagging steadily behind him now, he moved forward to give his relative and pack mate a quick nose and lick to the cheek in greeting.

The bigger wolf was frosty, and Hael laughed as he tried to de-ice himself, stepping back to look at him, weight evenly on all fours. At the question he tilted his head. <b>"I just woke up,"</b> he replied, glancing quickly back toward the den. <b>"Where is everybody? And what's with this weird weather?"</b> He added finally, his distaste for being so alone evident in his complaint. Not that he was scared, or anything like that! It was just... weird, that was all.</blockquote>

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<blockquote>Black tail swept the air behind him, and he licked the top of the boy's head in return. He'd grown a lot in the months, and he knew he would catch up to him in no time. It was a bittersweet thought how fast puphood came, and went. He casually looked around for anyone else, but had a feeling they were else where.

Hael's laughter he playfully nudged some snow his way before sitting on his rump with an audible sigh. Black brow raised, and he inched his chin with his hind leg before sitting upright. <b>"I don't know, hunting maybe? It takes a bit longer to come home in this stuff,"</b> his black nose tipped to the foggy atmosphere uncertain if his nephew was worried or just wondering. <b>"It's fog, it happens when it gets really cold,"</b> he supplied the simple answer, knowing there was probably more to it than that, but what he did not know.</blockquote>

are you with me through it all?

*Jump starts the thread!*

Now, Indru knew, no one in the pack could be unaware of Corinna's status—the change in her scent due to her pregnancy was clear as day and Indru knew that his scent too had shifted to a muskier, more dominant one in response. Each time he caught her recently changed scent it scent a thrill through him, in around a month now soon new cubs would be born to the pack and once more they would have a future and a goal to work together for, as it was the duty of the pack to help the cubs grow and to keep them safe.

With a contented sigh Indru gently dropped down beside the river that gave the pack it's name as it cut through the territory, letting his paw drift in the water as his head rested on the dry bank. It was a surprisingly warm day for this time of year and like most wolves Indru spent most afternoons resting the active mornings and nights. Softly his fiery eyes drifted shut until the leader fell into a light sleep.

<blockquote>The obvious change in his leadess' scent pleased Marsh, who was proud to serve such a flourishing pack. In fact, in all his seven years, this was the second family which had actually proven itself; his birth pack, and now this one. Was that sad?

At least he would not have to pack-hop any more. Though they were very different in manner and expectations, Marsh was pleased to belong to such successful groups at the two extremes of his life. He had made his mark, and, hopefully, would be able to make his mark for a few more years to come. He was under no pretences about his age, but even as the oldest wolf in the pack, he had no intention of slowing down. Corinna would have her loyal servant for a while yet.

<font style='margin-left:20px;'>The scent of his other leader caught Marsh's momentary attention. As his idle hunting had been unsuccessful so far - it was too warm to be very productive, he would wait until dusk - he thought that paying his returned superior some passing respect could not hurt. Indru came and went, but at least he came back - and unlike that first time, Marsh had not felt the lure of going after him. He would not make that mistake again.

Drawing near to the sight of Indru, lounging by the river, Marsh almost huffed in greeting - but then noticed Indru's apparent slumber. Holding his tongue, the copper brute instead went to the river some feet from the sleeping wolf, dipping his head at the water to cool his throat. Quietly, he watched Indru out of the corner of his eye, prepared to continue on his way once his thirst was quenched.</font></blockquote>

<blockquote><i>Late afternoon; Overcast; 43° F/6° C</i>

Though he was proud that he had helped the pack construct the new pack den, Fenru had taken a few measures to stay clear of it... until today. To fathom the fact that he, Rihael, and Kisla were going to have younger pack members to help look after and care for, had almost been impossible. For nearly a year he had been happy to acknowledge that he was possibly the youngest in his family. Being 'the baby' hadn't freed him of responsibilities or hindered him by any means but the event alone, that one day soon Swift River would have new life, started to make him think.

Since the River had flooded Fenru had not spoken a word. Not one. When he offered his salutations or bade other farewell he did it with a dip of his muzzle, and also utilized the plume-like tail, coarse pelt, and newfound muscle to further convey his emotions. The boy had been traumatized, absolutely fearful of the streams that encircled the Grove. Though his throat had not felt a lick of moisture since earlier that morning when he had discovered a small puddle, he cleared it quietly and walked right past the fallen tree that hid the entrance to the new burrow. Scents circled about here and there - his parents, his siblings, his Uncle Triell - but he was not ready to be caught hanging around it idly just yet.

After taking a quick glance around in hopes that no one had spotted him, he loped back into the thick hedges, determined to find something else to do to stave off his curiosity and thirst.</blockquote>

(This post was last modified: May 13, 2012, 06:49 AM by Fenru.)

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<blockquote>A silent Fenru was, in Marsh's opinion, a perfectly good one. He was no father, nor ever made to be one, and the particular trials and tribulations that Indru and Corinna faced were rarely of great interest to him. Marsh's involvement in the children's lives was relatively simple; he was their guardian, somebody to trust and always feel safe around. He would teach them how to fight, hunt or behave (in a bestial sense), but nothing more complex.

Of course, as far as Marsh was concerned, there was really little else that was important.

The trio's reactions to their parents' announcement of 'more puppies' had been interesting, if a little exasperating, and Marsh had not really given it much thought. It was not his responsibility to explain how offspring were made, nor why it was necessary to do so every year for the good of the pack. Jealousy of younger generations was not too uncommon in a first litter, who had never known any siblings but their own littermates. But they would get over it.

<font style='margin-left:20px;'>The scent of Fenru was fresh in the air as Marsh made his way back to the den, the body of a male pheasant (stolen from a young, foolish bobcat who had been a little too bold near the pack's borders) hanging from his mouth. The boy had not spent much time near the den since its completion, for reasons mysterious to Marsh, though he could guess at the purpose for the child's general disquiet. Dropping the bird near the den's mouth, he turned, ears pricked, and woofed softly, inviting (with the firmness of a Second) the boy to come closer, if he still lingered.</font></blockquote>