Fallen Tree Cove The Things We Do

For @Cernan

Word Count: 283

Tagg stretched, squinting through the fog that obscured the land.  He shook his pelt and felt its weight lessen immensely as frozen drops of water were dislodged and sent showering into the growth around him.  He felt a small smile tug at his lips as he heard the small bits of ice tinkle against the frozen plants.  Today was cold.

The scarred man padded softly away from the slightly sheltered area he’d claimed as his resting place.  It was tucked in between two roots of a tree and protected him from the worst of the wind most nights.  It was only rain he would have to worry about, as he suspected water would pool there rather than drain away.  

Once upon a time, he would have felt incredibly uncomfortable in the fog.  It was bad enough he was blind in one eye; he didn’t need nature to obscure his vision in the other.  Now, however, he had grown accustomed to using his other senses to compensate for his declined one.  He watched only to avoid running into anything and instead used his ears and nose to alert him of any potential company.

He was looking for one wolf in particular: Cernan, the young prince he’d recently been reunited with.  He seemed the type to enjoy a good spar, and it would help to warm them up.  Besides that, however, Tagg wanted to speak with him about something that had been pressing on his mind.  He didn’t want to call though.  That seemed a little too pretentious and he didn’t want to summon any other curious eyes and ears. No, he would rather seek him out.  He just hoped it wouldn’t take too long.

"Speech"  Thought

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I'm going to assume this is set for the morning, before Eido joins?

It was rare for a day to get so cold that it truly made Cernan Vuesain uncomfortable. His coat was extra fluffy by normal standards, and especially so in winter. This morning was one he would have considered to be just chilly, as he rose from the communal den with a shake and set about quelling the hunger in his stomach. The boy was not a proficient hunter by any means, but he did seize opportunity. Thankfully, he'd the sense to stash a rabbit he'd found frozen solid under the snow the night before, and set his course straight for the conspicuous pile of scraped up powder somewhere back in the pine woods.  Fog wasn't exactly a rare occurrence when you lived beside a mountain lake, but today it was especially obscuring and thick. Consciousness still recovering from the numbness of sleep, the prince managed to locate his makeshift freezer and found it undiscovered by other parties. Good. It was undeniably less pleasant to chomp through frozen flesh and organs when it was already so cold outside, and he would have preferred a warm, fresh kill. Still, the food did its job and the boy had no other options for the time being. Getting a meal up here in the winter was harder than at any other time; a fact he'd not truly appreciated until his second time living it. The whole pack no longer doted on he and Neha in the same way. They were expected to get their own meals as much as any other member of the Cove was, for the most part, and it had been a few days since they'd brought down an animal of substance.  It didn't take that long for his strong, boxy muzzle to deal with the remains of the hare, but by then the prince had attracted his own small gathering of crows. They had to be hungry too, but sympathizing with birds wasn't exactly high on his to-do list. And besides, they were annoying. When it was gutted and about half gone, Cernan had had just about enough of the things. He picked up the kill, leaving a few bones and sinew to distract the creatures while he slipped away. It sort of worked, and by the time the tawny yearling had reached the den he'd decided to offer the rest of his breakfast to someone else. Perhaps @Ismena or @Lunette were hungry.  That settled, he started a sweeping trek toward the border, just in case there were any scents or trails of trespassers to pick up. He hadn't made it that far into the pines though, when some form of movement materialized in the fog. He tensed a small bit from the uncertainty; the yearling determined that it was clearly a wolf, once his golden gaze had locked onto it, but a pack mate, or...? Now beginning to take his desired role more seriously, and with no helpful amount of scent to go on (especially with this fog,) the son of the lake turned and approached; his tail stiffening to level with his spine.  Fortunately, what tension had begun to rise in him was dissolved as the vaguely familiar russet hues of Tagg began to appear. He dropped his tail accordingly, and slowed to a stop. The prince took a moment to further examine the man's frame, as if to assure himself that it was indeed the wolf he thought it was, and barked a low note of greeting into the murky air.

 

Sort of earlier afternoon, yeah.  Tagg was with Moonshadow in the morning morning so...

Word Count: 275

Curse this fog. Tagg thought, not for the first time.  It dampened his sense of smell, making everything blurry.  Even my ears are blind! He strained, listening harder.  Still, he was thankful he’d been able to train his senses; he hoped nothing would be able to sneak up on him, even with his disadvantage.

He sound of footsteps caused the soft fur in the scarred wolf’s ears to twitch, and he turned his head.  The silhouette of another wolf was approaching him.  Just as he was about to call out, Cernan’s low bark of greeting stopped him.  “I’m glad I’ve found you.” He said, moving to stand close enough to the prince to be able to see him more clearly.  “I was wondering if you might have a minute?”

Tagg wasn’t quite sure how to approach the subject, and he wanted to talk before he suggested a tussle to help warm them up.  He hoped @Cernan wouldn’t be adverse to the idea.  “I was thinking about becoming a guardian, and word around the pack is you’re also training to be one?” It came out as more of a question that Tagg would have liked, but there it was.  “I was hoping you might be able to share a little insight on how to best go about doing that.”  Cernan would certainly know his father better than his battle-tested elder, and Tagg was still a little unsure of how Vespertio would treat him.  He’d accepted him back, yes, but his words had almost held a hint of warning that had the russet wolf unsure of himself but thirsty to prove his worth at the same time.

"Speech"  Thought

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