Nightingale Palisade they didn't know it when they cut me loose

RE: Kjell, you've disturbed a flock of geese as they rest during their winter migration!
Mid-morning.  Light snow, 38F/4C.  Open to one or two others!

The snow, Kjell decided, reminded him a bit of home.  It wasn’t as if the wolves of Ered Luin had made their home and hearth anywhere particularly cold, but it was at elevation, and snows always began to drift in as the leaves began to change.  With his thick, dark coat grown in, the light flakes didn’t bother him much – it only made it evident he’d have to find a temporary den to bed in until the weather passed.  He didn’t much fancy being wet and cold, and frankly, saw no harm in lazing around and watching the flakes fall until the clouds exhausted themselves.

That was his plan, anyways.

Carefully making his way down the ravine (lest he slip on slick earth and bump into a deleterious root – the last thing he needed was to go rolling down the incline and sprain a paw, or several), he bobbed his head as he eyed an outcropping of rocks.  The other side seemed like it may offer shelter, he reckoned; it was his best bet, anyways.  So focused on getting their safely, the lone wolf did not particularly notice the stink of geese, not until he rounded the stone pyramid and practically stumbled into the small flock.

“Fuck!” he yelped, stumbling back as a particularly large gander exploded off the ground only lengths away.  “What the fuck!?”

Hope this is okay! @Kjell

She didn't like to venture this far south, knowing a pack lay just a little further towards the ghastly woods, but the snows had prompted her to seek out some scrub pine before the passes were well and truly closed off. However, the weather had other plans in mind and started to dump snow before she had even found a single plant of use. A growl was offered up to whatever god ruled the clouds, she could give up now and go home, or wait it out and continue on her way, wet and cold. Oh, she did hate being cold.

Unbeknownst to the woman, her eyes had settled on the very same outcrop as another. It wasn't until she began to make her way closer that shocked words rung out through the air and she realised she wasn't alone. The sound of beating wings and honks of alarm almost drowned out the voice, and the sound of startled poultry triggered something in her subconscious that screamed food! (never mind that this particular variety was prone to fighting back). Tail held high, her steps gained a little more urgency as she grew closer, intent on trying to grab a hold of at least one before it got its hefty body off the ground.

Fucking birds, why was it always these awful, horrible birds?  They weren’t this big last time, either.

The gander that had exploded right in front of Kjell’s face had made his escape – for the time being – awkwardly angling into the air as the wolf backpedaled, wide eyes searching the scene as he tried to actually piece together what just happened.  One moment before, and snow was coming down in droves – a moment later, and it seemed like the birds were fighting gravity and exploding into the sky!

When the wolf took a step back, it was then he realized he’d been joined by another; this time, he actually recognized the other.  Female.  Roka.  Ears perked forward, he woofed softly to the-not-quite stranger.  She smelled differently now – no overwhelming song of heat, and she didn’t smell like willow trees either.  His tail still thumped side-to-side, hoping wildly she was feeling as friendly as she did months and months ago.

“Hungry?” he rasped, eyes twinkling with delight.  “Think we’d stand a better chance if we worked t’gether.”  He flashed a bright, toothy smile, nodding towards where the rest of the geese still remained among the grass.  Thoughts of shelter were temporarily abandoned when a fresh meal stood on the line.

Her attempt at an easy meal was thwarted as the geese took to the sky, a familiar voice reminding her that she hadn't been alone in approaching the flock. Well, if they had intended to attack they wouldn't very well be trying to engage her in conversation, would they? So she let her tail wave in greeting as her eyes turned to figure out who she had stumbled across, answering his question with a smirk. "Nah, but th' kids'r forever whinin' fer food, lucky they've got a pack ter provide for 'em," she joked while nodding her agreement to his suggestion. 

Were the circumstances less time sensitive, she may have thrown a comment about him following her north or joked that they would have to stop bumping into each other like this, but as it was, birds had wings and temperaments to match their ability to fly and if they hoped to catch one, they would have to move quickly.

Her sights turned to where he gestured. The geese were fat and slow, and if they got close enough they could probably even catch one each. But, the chances of missing by aiming for one alone were too high for a loner to risk and while she had caches to carry her through if she missed, he did not. "Flush'em or jump?" she asked his preference, for she would be happy doing either task.

Kids.

Sweet Mother above, but children were not anything Kjell was interested in dealing with right now.  His companion here had a pack to deal with the brats, but hey – who was he to turn up an opportunity to spend time with the mysterious spring flight?  Two wolves would hunt better than one.  Whatever she did with her half of the goose once they’d brought it down was her business, quite frankly.

Since the woman was offering, he could only assume she felt capable of both tasks.  Kjell quickly ran both scenarios through his mind, realizing quickly that Morganna was indeed much than he was.  Dark pelts would provide shadowy cover for both, but she probably had more spring when it came to catching a goose in mid-flight.  “I’ll flush,” he decided after a moment, bobbing his head once.  The words were no more than a harsh whisper, but then Kjell was already hunkering back down, his dark frame disappearing into the tall grass.  He waited only long enough for Morganna to do the same before he began to creep forward, one step at a time.  While time was of the essence, rushing would only alert the birds to their presence; if they sprung before the female was in place, the entire flock would be lost, and their bellies would still be empty.

A young deer has been separated from the rest of its herd. Hunt Opportunity

I'm where you wanna be

Morganna Archer

There was a sense of relief when he didn't bite at the mention of children, her smirk betraying her true feelings on the matter - but that didn't mean the man was useless or that she didn't enjoy his company as much this time as she did the last. His decision to flush was met with a toothy grin, her own frame lowering as he moved away. She would need to get as close as she could without startling the fat birds into flight. Thankfully the grass provided more than enough cover, her silent approach only stopping when an increase in the honking made it seem as though the birds were onto them.

The flock milled among themselves, it would seem one had taken offence to the other picking at it's grass and she struggled to hold back a scoff that threatened to give her away. Closer and closer she drew until she thought she was close enough. She couldn't spot the dark wolf behind the flock but she could only hope that he saw her as she rose her head enough to turn her ears up then fold them back down. She was ready.

Leaning back and tensing the muscles in her legs she was poised and ready to leap.

Kjell gave the female a few moments to begin her movement before he too began to slink through the grass, not willing to waste their opportunity because he’d gotten impatient.  Ears swiveled wildly as he listened: listened to the princess creep through the dead and drying blades, listened to the geese waddling aimlessly, listened even to the wind as it rustled restlessly, blowing against his face.  To be honest, he wasn’t sure if a bird’s sense of smell was as good as a rabbit’s or a deer’s, but he wasn’t willing to find out.

With his lighter belly almost scuffing the ground, the loner came to a halt, nose twitching as he tried to pinpoint Morganna.  He gave the pack wolf a moment or two beyond the falling silence, assuming she was in position.  It would be no good if he spoiled it before she was ready.  With no way to signal her without also alerting the flock to his presence, Kjell swallowed and steeled himself.  (Friggin’ birds.  He hated birds.)

With nothing else to delay him, Kjell exploded forward from the tall grass, barking and snarling as he went.  Teeth flashed and jaws snapped, ears pinned tightly against his head as the flock burst into a cacophony of angry squawks and flurried wings.  He could barely see anything in the chaos, but he had to hope that meant the same for the winged demons; hopefully, they could not see Morganna coming, either.

She had barely managed to get herself into position when the cacophany of startled birds filled the air. A wall of honking wings and feathers rose up before her, the thunderous clap of birds colliding in their panic only adding to the wonderful symphony. She could have gotten away with going for one of the birds still on the ground, startled at their disrupted flight, beaks gaping and lashing at their flock mates who dared to slow their escape, but she would leave those for if her companion had a change of heart and decided to nab another for good measure.

Time was moving in slow motion as Morganna launched herself into the air, jaws closing firmly around an outstretched wing, hollow bones shattering between her teeth as she came back down, down to earth. The bird was heavier than it looked as it hip-slammed her head, drawing a powerful shake on her head in retaliation. Feathers were flying as the bird was thrown into the ground, her hold on the wing released as she snapped towards the noisy bastards scrawny neck. She missed, and missed again, frustration boiling over at an alarming rate. She finally tackled the beast, getting a peck to her snout for her troubles before finally finding her mark with a satisfied grumble.

As the racket faded to silence she dropped the bird, feather littered face lifted to see if her companion had similar luck.