Hearthwood River ducks are omnivores

@Lachesis @Kisla

This time, the dark male opted to follow the river that branched off from the lake as he set about his morning exploration. It was a common tendency of his: to follow streams and keep near ponds and marshlands. Because that's where the ducks were and ducks (or any kind of waterfowl) were one of his favorite foods. The other being grouse and other upland birds. In other words, Otter favored anything with feathers and was known (back home) for his prowess in hunting them. If only he ate like a bird too, some would say, for Otter had a mighty appetite.

By chance his decision was a good one, and it would save him who knows how many suns or moons of wandering around. He liked to wander of course, being fidgety beast that needed near-constant stimulation; but he liked to have a pack to return to too. He was a social wolf after all. So to run into the scent of pack borders so soon after his dispersal from home was most fortuitous and welcome.

Not one to shop around, he took only a few moments to investigate the scent markers and glean what he may from them, before he howled into the great redwood forest. Not to summon — but to let the pack know he was nearby, and was not skulking about hoping to go undetected. Otter then summoned a bit of patience to linger quietly some respectable distance from the border in hopes that someone of notable rank might come to intercept him.

@Otter

The ghost did not stray far from the river most days. It was difficult not to smother the blue-eyed sparrow, for he knew fretting over her only frustrated the pregnant she-wolf, so he tried to keep his distance. He busied himself with patrols and lurking around the water’s edge to collect more sweet grass. There were three mothers to take care of this year and while he had an extra set of paws to help out this year, Lachesis still worried. The day that the pale leader stopped worrying was the day he stopped breathing. His constant overthinking was probably the reason why his fur remained so white. Naia’s death last year still haunted him; the thought of losing another mother gnawed at the back of his mind, for the river wolves expecting this year were all close to him.

He was not far from the loner when the call sounded, alerting the alabaster male of his presence. A soft smile tugged at his lips. Hearthwood’s luck seemed to be turning around despite the blanket of snow continuing to fall. It looked like the puppies this year were going to get their first look at snow a lot sooner…

It did not take long for the long-legged ghost to arrive at the border, his peridots narrowing as he studied the dark stranger although his expression remained neutral. He offered the loner a soft smile, his tail giving a short, friendly wag as it curled over his back in dominance. “Looking for something?” He asked curiously as he approached the white-cheeked loner, his paws stopping before he got too close. Just because the dark wolf howled at the edge of Kingswood did not mean that it was a social call.

stick with those who stick with you

A lynx has left behind the remains of a deer. +5 Health

She rounded the borders perhaps more than she should these days – her swollen stomach indicated that in only a few weeks, she would be birthing what she hoped was a healthy litter.. but with three pregnant she-wolves within the pack, the food had been slightly scarcer, despite their flourishing ranks. She hunted for herself – identifying with the fact she was now a single mother, and far too stubborn to admit she would require any help. Lilya had Lachesis looking out for her – and she had Lekalta and Aleksei – but she could barely bring herself to accept the food from them, especially when her other daughter had bred against pack law.

She still seethed on the matter – but Inna’s childishness shone through entirely now, if her belief was that her mother would allow her and per grandchildren to starve – it was almost insulting.

So they honeyed woman kept her thoughts to herself, occupying her time through the day to day activities of the pack. The scent of the loner beckoned her, but it was her co-lead that found him first. Sidling up beside him, as graceful as she could manage with her extra weight, the Baranski regarded the stranger with mild interest, only having come toward the end of Lachesis’ question.

sparking up my heart

He was not kept waiting long but even so, it was too long for his restless paws. There were few scenarios outside of sleep where Otter was content to be still. On occasion, for example, he might lay and soak the sun like a turtle basking on a log, but such periods of inactivity were not only infrequent but brief.

Otter was a sort of latitudinarian when it came to his methods for keeping himself occupied. There was no passtime or behavior that was disallowed. Fortunately for him he found some benign way to distract himself while he waited, less he be caught doing something that other wolves deemed inappropriate or indecent. The dark wolf plied his nose and sniffed the earth and trees at length. He found a sort of contentment and thrill in working out the individual scents that clung to his surroundings and was so lost in this work time whisked by.

His ears pivoted to the sound of an approaching wolf. It was an older male with a bit more flesh on his bones than Otter. There was evident dominance in his stance, but also friendliness in the way the other man's tail wavered and his mouth curved into a smile. Otter smiled back and waved his tail too, his chartreuse eyes flicking to a second arrival — a  pregnant female who came to stand at the pale wolf's side. She did not carry her rank at all but Otter operated on the fair assumption she was the lead female aside this male. She was pregnant. She was here. It was a fair conclusion to draw he would say.

"Looking for something?"

"You!" Otter chirped to the male as he moved toward the pair, crouching with his wiggling tail brushing his flank submissively. His ears were folded onto his skull. "And you!" He added to the female. "I am Splashing Otter. And you can call me Splashing Otter. Or you can call me Otter — just Otter — that's fine too." He paused for just a heartbeat before getting down to business.

"I come from somewhere that is not here and not near here. You know the story. Or the beginning of the story at least! Young wolf leaves home to see a bit of the world and find a new pack and have his own life and all that good stuff..."

It did not take long for Kisla to arrive, taking her place at his side with her swollen stomach. He flashed her a warm smile, bumping her shoulder in greeting. The ghost was pleased to see his co-lead stretching her legs despite her due date closing in. The Baranski was no novice to being a mother; she knew her boundaries and when not to push herself. Out of the three mothers this spring, she was the one he worried the least about (although he still fretted more than he would care to admit).

As he returned his attention to the white-cheeked male at their doorstop the stranger chirped a quick response, his body quickly adopting a submissive stance. He made haste in introducing himself, the words tumbling off his tongue and filling the air between them. Splashing Otter. His brows raised, curiosity bubbling up inside his chest, but he bit his tongue. The dark wolf had managed to capture Lachesis’ attention.

His gaze flitted over to Kisla, briefly, as the loner continued his spiel. He did not know what to make of the peculiar wolf before them, but he was intrigued nonetheless. However, while Otter had announced that he was here to seek a pack, he had not gone offered how he could benefit the river wolves. They were not looking to host wolves until something better came along. Hearthwood had just begun to replenish their ranks after barely surviving the winter and had already dealt with their fair share of wandering paws in the past. “Lachesis Stark,” he introduced cooly, brows furrowed as he analyzed the thin wolf, “and this is Hearthwood River.” He motioned to the redwoods behind him with a flick of his nose, a thin smile tugging at his lips. “What do you have to offer to us, Otter?” He asked, getting straight to the point as his chartreuse gaze narrowed. 

stick with those who stick with you

Their visitor was a chatty fellow – Kisla regarded him with hidden dismay as he went on, and cast her eyes briefly to Lachesis, wondering if he also felt they had fallen down the rabbit hole and were entertaining the Mad Hatter at their tea party.

Before she could cut off the raven-furred wolf, Lachesis was quick to ask what he could offer them – her mind still considering his roots when his parents had named him Splashing Otter. It was a strange name to the she-wolf – but then again, they had entertained a few cultures in their pack thus far.. the worst being the religion Kjors had attempted to place upon their members. It seemed only Karina had drank the kool-aid – but this fellow seemed only talkative, rather than anything else. If anything, he seemed perfectly amicable, if not a little youthful and carefree. “Kisla Baranski,” she offered, a flood of guilt washing over her as she used the name of her late mate – her dead mate that was certainly not the father of the unborn puppies within her swollen belly.

“And what kind of life are you looking for in your new pack?” Many of their new members held a desire for a fresh start in their ranks – the question was, what exactly did this fresh start entail for them?

sparking up my heart

He knew what came next. They would ask him why they should take him in. They would want to know what use he could be to the pack. Optimistic and laid back though he was, Otter was not naive. He was a quick study and an observer. His learned logic could border on cynicism even if he served it up with a grin. He knew that ultimately, packs worked because each wolf benefited from associating with the wolves around them, and at the core of that was each wolf being useful.

So because he knew this, he was ready with his answer. Or at least an answer for Lachesis. Kisla posed an entirely different and unanticipated question that he would respond to on the fly afterwards.  

"Well," he said, drawing a breath and tempering some of the chirpy excitement of moments before without losing all of the sunniness. He spoke smoothly and sincerely. "I was raised in a pack where every wolf had a role to not only help the pack survive but thrive." It was a key word that he further emphasized with a brief grin. Otter's hedonistic nature was a bit extreme perhaps but among his lot he was just a brighter wildflower that had sprouted in the same field. "Ol' Otter here? I was one of the small game hunters that kept the pack fed when either the large game or the luck was scarce. My specialty is birds. You like ducks or grouse? I got you covered."

Otter remained near prostrated the entire time. Crouched before the lead wolves with his tail sweeping the ground behind him in wide and amiable arcs. Not content to suggest he was a one-trick wolf he added a bit more to his response to Lachesis.

"I like to keep busy. I can fish too and do a bit of anything else you might need. I can watch them little rascals for you too." His bright eyes flicked to the rounded belly of the female. Otter was good with pups because he was so youthful himself. He enjoyed play as much as them, and they were usually receptive to his gifts and regarded them with wonder rather than tolerance.

"As for the life I'm looking for... I'm a simple wolf. I like good company and I like to stay fed and busy. That's all. I'm not much of a planner. I'll even admit I'm not that ambitious. I take it all one day at a time."

The ghost wasn’t really sure what to think of the peculiar wolf before them. He could not tell if Splashing Otter was being genuine or if this was all a façade, an elaborate attempt to capture the attention of the river wolves. Whatever it was, it certainly was working. Lachesis was utterly captivated by the strange wolf and his extravagant speeches. It appeared that Kisla was, too, for she remained quiet aside from her quick introduction and a second question. Lachesis also kept his lips drawn tight as the younger male spoke, only his ears twitching as he listened patiently to Otter’s response.

His brows arched as Otter mentioned he excelled in hunting birds, something that Lachesis had never been good at himself. Smaller prey, like rabbits or squirrels, he had no issues with. But fowl was a different story.

The loner’s skills would no doubt be useful in Hearthwood, but he was not sure he was sold just yet. He did not want this to be a temporary fit for the white-cheeked wolf. After a brief pause Otter began his response to Kisla’s question, announcing that he enjoyed staying busy and taking things one day at a time. He appreciated the loner’s honesty and could see him fitting in well with the rag-tag group. With three litters arriving in less than a month, Lachesis knew they could not afford to dismiss extra help when it came knocking on their door. He glanced over at his tawny co-lead, curious as to what her thoughts were on allowing Otter to join them. “Honesty and loyalty is important to Hearthwood. If you can provide that, along with hard work, then there may be a home for you here.”

stick with those who stick with you

While the male’s answer left a lot to be desired from the honeyed she-wolf, given their numbers were now stronger and the swarthy stranger’s words seemed to imply it was possible he would not be with them long term – though if it was a fresh start he sought, he would need to begin somewhere. His honesty, however, spoke volumes, and with a sideways glance to her co-lead as he spoke, the Baranski then trained her eyes once more to their potential pack mate, deciding already that she would be fine with the addition to their ranks.

Lachesis was quick to cast their expectations to the youthful wolf, and she offered a gentle nod in agreement. “This pack is not a revolving door – if you leave, second chances are rarely given. Not anymore.” Her words indicated their past issues with members coming and going – her own children included – and it would end now. These were her terms – the River wolves had been too forgiving in the past, and it had never done them any favors. “If you can accept our expectations of you, I see no reason why we wouldn’t want to accept you in to our home and family.” That was what they were building – a family of wolves who could rely and trust one another.

sparking up my heart