Ever since their hunt, Orren Baranski had been going back and forth on his opinion of the strange phenomenon that was Kjors. Hunting together with the older male had shown to be both exciting and rewarding, Kjors in the end admitting that here was something Orren did better than his brother; Which, though he had pretended to ignore, actually meant the world to the youngest River prince. Still, he didn't quite know what to think of this murky wolf who seemed to be mostly a recluse, yet had drawn the full attention of his gentle and shy sister. Ever since Kjors arrival in the Hearthwood River pack, Karina had grown more and more detached from her family, choosing instead to spend her time with this dark stranger, seeming to revere him as some sort of prophet, Or who knows what! And this made her brother both jealous and suspicious.
He had no idea what to do about it though, he didn't exactly have the word in his power, and mostly when he did try to talk to his oldest sister, it ended up in arguments. Instead, the best course of action seemed to be getting to know this home wrecker more closely, finding out exactly what about him was so fascinating to Karina, and whether it posed a threat to the Baranski family. That was no easy feat either though; Orren was no spy, no wall flower capable of studying and learning in silence. In order to know the one eyed wolf he needed to actually talk to him, build a relationship with him, and in order to do that, he needed to find him. but, as mentioned, Kjors was no social man, in fact he seemed to enjoy his solitude, and his privacy, and while getting to the bottom of this whole situation was important to the young adventurer, he could not spend all his time looking around, hoping to get a glimpse of the bistre chap, and maybe exchange a few words, he had other things to do; Like hunting!
And hunt he continued to do, morning, evening, dusk dawn, among the trees or out in the open, the aspiring hunter followed tracks, traced scents, kept watch of larger herds and took down smaller critters on his own, filling the caches and often bringing special treats to his mother, @Inna and @Lekalta. This was hard work, and a long day of hunting often left the lad exhausted, collapsing in the communal den in the evening and sleeping long into the morning. Orren had never been an early riser, and in these summer days, he especially enjoyed sleeping in, taking advantage of the coolness of the mornings to catch up on some, much needed rest. And this day was no exception, in fact, he could have easily slept a few hours longer, had a rough, yet not unfriendly, voice not broken into his dreams. Persimmon eyes flicking open, a low grunt escaped the boy before he lifted his head, shaking it thoroughly to clear the fog of sleep. Had it been someone else searching for him, he might have simply gone back to sleep, pretending to never even have heard the call. But he couldn't exactly pass up this opportunity; How often does HE come looking for ME?! So he got up, stretching himself as much as possible in the cramped space and then quickly wiggled his way out of the den.
The bright sunlight made him blink, pausing as soon as his tail was free of the burrow, to adjust to the light. Finally, a lanky, brown silhouette appeared before his eyes, and Orren smiled at him, waving his tail affably. "Kjors?" He said, yawning widely; "What'a'ya need?" With a less than graceful thump, the yearling planted his sizable rear on the dirt, lifting a leg to lazily scratch himself behind the ear. No one had ever accused the lad of being elegant, and they certainly weren't gonna start now.
Word count: 662
Thoughts "Speech."