If there was one thing the rain was good for according to Eirian it was softening up those tough layers of soil compacted like cement from the constant foot traffic of the Pines members weaving in and out of their cedar encased home, making the normally laboring act of unearthing hidden treasures tucked away from wandering eyes a breeze. The sediment just melted away with no complaint after each powerful sweep of muscular forelimbs, although this did tend to leave one's paws an awfully dark shade of brown afterwards. Twas the prize one had to pay sometimes in order to keep valuable trinkets safe, dirty paws a cheaper priced item on the scale of sacrifices and Eirian was not one to shy away from getting dirty.
Today's trinket was to be a well worn moose bone the young male had come to relish as a personal stress reliever, the various puncture marks along its ivory exterior indication of each time the buzzing world around him halted just long enough for some pent up hostility to be released. It was taxing playing nice to these filthy wolves he reigned over, but the part had to be played and he'd be damned if he didn't earn himself an encore at the end of it all. Surely the Asurn boy had earned himself a bone, right?
Dull nails dug feverishly through the softened soil in their haste to unearth the marred bone, gunky mud left behind from the latest storm; that didn't cake itself onto the lengths of once cream colored legs, flung with little care as to whom it may land on out behind his rump. Thunk! came the glorious sound Eirian had been waiting to hear as nails scratched the surface of what he assumed to be his current prized possession. Oh how wrong the poor lead male would soon come to be.
Finally the last clumps of mud were swept clean, but... "What the hell?" The object that now lay between his paws was not the bone he was expecting to find, but instead something else entirely. "Where's my bone and what the flying fuck is this?!" Lifting his left paw Eirian jabbed the thing twice before snorting his disapproval being greeted with nothing but the sound of faint humming that caused russet ears to prick forward for a split second before any hint of curiosity was quickly cast aside, body turning in preparation to begin moving the muddy soil back over the useless thing, whatever it was.
A low grumble fell from the male's lips while his back now turned to the unbeknownst fallen, yet still active bee's nest, mind already beginning to run through the mental check list of all possible culprits who could have moved his stress ball. There would be hell to pay should he ever find the rotten -- ouch. A sudden sting square on his rump that caused the unsuspecting patriarch to jump a bit. Soon one sting turned into a couple and -- when did that humming become so loud?