Beaver Dam excuses aside, stop saying please

For @Hypatia only.
Dated 12/02 - overcast with occasional sleet and impending storms, mid day.

There were a few reasons that had brought the man this far south, from the serenity he often found in his routine within his domain, and he had spoken to @Raela about them both, promising to be back by the next day's sunrise. The first was an attempt to locate any traces of @Alphinaud, who had recently vanished from the territory without a word. It was blatantly uncharacteristic of the man, and Gent feared that some ill fate had befallen him. It was hard to discern what was preferable, in the end; for the faithful wolf to be injured or even passed, torn away from them by happenstance, or for him to be alive and well, simply a deserter. Regardless he wished to find him and know his answers, not fond of being left with questions that may never be answered, such as seemed his fate regarding Lugh.

While he was this way, though, he also gave himself an errand of gathering a gift for @Danica. It was the Creek at which he would cease his searching, unwilling to travel any further south and risk being away from his mountain for too long. For many reasons this place was important to his adopted little sister, and while the memories may be bittersweet for her, he knew that a token from the area would be appreciated by her all the same.

As he drifted deeper into the oh so familiar area, the flowery scent of the leaves which had given the creek its name laced itself thinly through the air. It wasn't until he had arrived at the very nexus of the region, marked by an impressive, beaver-engineered structure that stretched across the water, that Gent at last gave up the searched. A sigh left his muzzle, visibly marking the air before him. His pale eyes sought the sky, attempting to gauge the sky's mood and anticipate the weather it would bring. The trip had turned miserable when he had escaped the cover of a forest canopy and entered the fields, having been subjected to a steady downfall of sleet. Now, the phenomenon had stopped, but the sky was a tumultuous grey, threatening to unleash such a blight upon him once more.

Still, there was work to be done, and he would not be chased away from it now. Turning his gaze down to the ground, Gent shoveled the thin covering of snow away from the ground, unearthing the littering of empress tree leaves. Suddenly the strength of their perfume increased tenfold, unhindered by the frigid blanket, and the smell of it was sickly sweet within his nostrils. His snout wrinkled with distaste, but he began to gather them all the same, peeling those which were still viable away from those which were too far rotted. They would have a chance to air out as he took them back to the Crest, and would become a mild means of giving Danica's private den a soft, nice smell to it.

Damn she shouldn't be making a habit of this. The itch in her paws to wander couldn't be ignored any longer. Just because she was leader she saw no reason why she couldn't venture away from the territory. If anything she was sure it would come in handy to make acquaintances, maybe allies. Those were still in short supply to the pack and she wanted to change it. First she needed to reach beyond the mountain. Find out for herself what kind of packs were down here. It had been a long time since she had considered anyone a friend. Though winter had settled its blanket, it had yet to hinder travel. Why not go? Besides she wouldn't be gone long, she had told her uncle of her departure. 


Now where to begin. Why she was certain of some of the western packs she was thinking it was time to check north. It was by following the creek she felt confident she would soon find something. 

Morning would give way to mid-day and there was a chill to the air, a sign of storms to come. A muffled curse she did her best to remain in the heavy woods as the wet mixture pounded the earth. For the most part she remained relatively dry. The storm dampened her hope. Was there many else who would be out with such a moody day? She took  a break under the shelter of the trees until the wind calmed. Then found herself at a cross road. The further she went the less cover she had, but going back now might not be better. 

Forward it was. With the scent of beaver she became curious if they were all tucked away somewhere. She trekked forward she spied their house, but it was the smell of a male wolf that forced her to pause. She was not certain where he was and hated the idea of being caught unawares. 

His work of sorting consumed a large portion of his attention, though a thick level of vigilance remained. His auditory system worked harder to make up for the floral cloud polluting his sense of smell, ears twitching and swiveling consistently. Yet due to cautious distance upheld by the woman, it wasn't until he lifted his head to take a break from the sickly scent that he became aware of her presence at all. With a deep breath her essence coated his lungs, a mixture of the lives of those she bedded with dominated by her own venturous story. Was there a pack near to here? She smelled of the mountains, dredging up bittersweet memories for the beast.

Gent gathered he had gained from the snowy grave that was the forest's floor and held the wet leaves stacked between his teeth. He'd found enough of them, and could return with the knowledge that his trip so far south had not been a complete waste. Yet first, he wanted to investigate.

With a sure-footed bound he crossed a thinned section of the river, onto the stranger's side. His pale eyes searched the gloom as his shadowy limbs pulled him toward her scent. A chuff escaped his cheeks, warping around the grip he held upon the fallen foliage and calling out to his company, asking that she seek him out as well.

There is a moose carcass that has been scavenged by coyotes nearby. +15 Health