Thicket of Secrets the golden perch, also known as the yellowbelly

@Rayne! Set early morning.

He was gonna be a fisher. It sounded so stupid to say, because for all intents and purposes he already was, but Miccah was gonna make him an official pack fisher with a title and everything so everybody would know it. Duck wasn't entirely sure he saw the point, because as far as he knew it would mean... he was doing the same as before... but maybe it would mean that the others saw him as more important? Maybe they would come to him for advise and - oh no - would expect him to be responsible for keeping everyone fed and -

Everything which had first panicked him at the thought came rushing back, as it always did, over and over, the anxiety fighting with the entirely alien feeling of pride which the whole thing made him feel, because holy crap Miccah thought he was worth something. Worth it enough to get a role, a title! Man, those Athesilas must really, really like fish.

To that end, it was business as usual. Getting up early so that he could avoid saying 'good morning' to people (although he was now able to chirp it and other casual greetings to wolves like @Aideen, @Miccah, @Rose and @Nios without stuttering, which was huge) Duck set his feet on the familiar path towards the creek he always used, a cosy warmth in his chest, a feeling of having value.

Despite getting better for the most part, Rayne's sleeping pattern was still a mostly weird thing. Sometimes he slept in till midday and stayed up till the wee hours of the morning doing patrols or went down as soon as the sun dispersed behind the horizon. He wasn't sure if it was something Aideen had picked up on yet but regardless, he didn't wish to worry her even more because of it. Unfortunately, today was one of those days where he went to sleep at dusk but woke at midnight, unable to fall back asleep no matter what he tried. So the large wolf managed to sneak out of the communal den without waking anyone, deciding to use his time wisely and do some patrols around the edges of the territory.

The sun was peeking through the thickets now, shining with early morning light and Rayne felt a thirst that he better quench before it got worse. There was a creek nearby he was aware of and had changed his course towards it, having slowly becoming accustomed to working his way through the thickets once again. He just hoped Miccah was noticing his smell on the trails, so he could smell that Rayne was trying his best to help out. The large male wanted to prove himself to the other man, to prove it was the right thing to do in allowing him back into the pack.

Finding himself at the creek, Rayne bent down to lap at the cool water. It was good to have a home, to be home. He just wished he hadn't left in the first place. All the heart ache for nothing and he wasn't even sure if his efforts now were in vain or not. 

Lifting his head from the water, Rayne shook his head, stamping down the feelings and thoughts. The past was in the past. Better to move forward and accept what had happened. Thinking he might head back to the den for a short rest, Rayne perked when he thought he heard another's footsteps coming this way. Was it another pack-member coming for a drink?It had to be, this far over the borders. Rayne figured he'd wait to see and introduce himself, settling down next to the creek edge and staring into the water, watching the fish flick back and forth now the water had settled from Rayne's disturbance. 

(This post was last modified: Jun 19, 2016, 10:52 AM by Rayne.)

It had happened before, and no doubt it would happen again. By the time Duck arrived at his beloved, quiet creek, he already knew that it was occupied. Unlike last time, though, this wolf was a pack-mate, a fact known only thanks to his nose. Duck had yet to meet this newcomer to the pack - which was such a surprise because of course he was normally so diligent about getting to know his fellow Woodlanders - and had hesitated upon realising that he was following the stranger's trail. He'd considered his options with a sigh, and after a time, had carried on regardless.

He was gonna be one of the pack's official providers. Duckweed Calor couldn't run from others forever! The more he told himself that, the easier it would be to believe it, maybe. It would still have been the best if he could just serve in private. But was that a very pack-wolfish thing to want to do?

The worst part was that the newcomer was male. Duck had managed to go quite a long time happily on the lowest adult rank simply by circumstance. He already lowered himself for everyone, but now was in a position that had never happened before. Technically, the new guy was below him. The thought made his head explode. Five and Six, they were, already so far down the ladder that observing the hierarchy hardly made sense, but it was still utterly bizarre. By the normal rules of a pack, there was another adult male who Duck had the lawful right to act dominant around. Act dominant! He wasn't even sure he knew how to make his body work that way.

By the time Duck arrived at the creek, this stranger clearly knew he was coming, and was perched patiently at the water's edge, waiting. Duck swallowed his anxieties and dipped his head in greeting, uttering a quiet "'lo," as his tail twitched behind him, laid down by his hocks, not sure what to do.

What would a confident, dominant wolf do? He thought of Nios, of Miccah, of his father. "'M Duck." It was a start.

Rayne bowed his head towards the younger boy, a snall smile on his face as he introduced himself. Duck reminded Rayne of himself when he was younger, shy and unable to properly get words out around strangers. So much had changed since his first visit to the Lore.

"I am Rayne," It was just a simple introduction. Nothing more was needed, really and Duck didn't seem one for talking. "I hope I'm not intruding on anything? I was just getting a drink when I noticed you were coming this way and thought I might as well introduce myself. I can leave if you wish?" He kept his posture lax and slightly submissive, though he raised half way, knowing that while this boy was only a rank above him and only a child, he was still in lower ranking then him. Thus Rayne would show him the - however slight - respect he deserved. The fish in the creek continued to dash in the water, flopping this way and that as they made their way in the creek, drawing his attention yet again.

Rayne often wondered how wolves managed to catch the slippery buggers, as he often was one to help down large game on land, due to his size. In his experince, they had always been rather elusive. They just seemed so skittish already whenever one went near the water and darted away as soon as a ripple disturbed them. Patience he guessed, was the way to catch them but while he had plenty of that, he never went to the creek for food, just water.

This was all wrong. Duck ground his molars together as he stared at the glassy surface of the creek, feeling stiff and awkward. This guy was so much older. Nios and Miccah intimidated the fuck out of Duck, but they only boasted a few years on top... it was pretty plain that Duck was little more than a child in comparison to this Rayne guy. And he was supposed to be above him? Was that for real?

Why was it so hard to just accept?

The pale wolf glanced to Rayne as the older man spoke, and the excessive politeness and compliance made him want to laugh. Sure, he'd been possessive of this creek before, but that was to strangers and loners, not other woodland wolves... the whole reason he came to this creek was to help those exact wolves. What purpose did sending one away serve? "N-no," he muttered, noticing how Rayne held himself, the subtle messages in the posture, and found that his tail was full of lead and couldn't rise any higher. This was enough. Five and Six were nothing! Stop freaking out about it already! Jesus! "It's okay, s-s-st-stay. I wuh-was... just g-g-gon, g-gonna fish."

Rayne perked up when Duck mentioned he was there to fish. It always interested him to see how others hunted fish but he had never been around a fisher when they were doing their job.   



“Do you mind if I stay and watch? I’ve always wanted to learn, or at least see how it’s done but I’ve always been too busy or no where near someone when they’ve been fishing.” He rambled a little without realizing it at first but clamped his mouth shut upon noticing it a few moments later. Raising to stand, wincing slightly upon realizing his scarred leg had been tucked up under him in a an odd way, Rayne shook out his fur. Duck was young and appeared somewhat shy. He probably didn’t want others watching him as he fished, as if scrutinizing him and feeling nervous while being watched. At least, if he was anything like Rayne had been as a young wolf.  

It still felt odd, being back in a pack after so long, and particularly in one he had once thought he’d stay in forever. Part of him still wished to wander, to have the freedom that came with strolling with the wind and going wherever it went but he also knew his limitations. Understood that he was getting old and being a loner and his leg gave him a slight disadvantage at hunting larger prey. 


But it didn’t matter anymore. He was back in the Thickets and that’s all that mattered.  

(This post was last modified: Jul 11, 2016, 01:56 AM by Rayne.)

@Rayne <3

Was this a good or bad development? As Rayne guessed, the idea of having an audience somehow made the most comfortable thing in the world a little more intimidating. Suddenly any tiny mistake was no longer something easily brushed off and accepted, but a possible source of judgement and shame. But then the older man had said he wanted to learn, which implied that he couldn't fish himself, so... would he even spot any of the smaller mistakes? Would he care about them? As Duck mulled that thought over, Rayne stood, and his brief pained expression wasn't missed, prompting a new thread of curiosity to unravel. Old and inexperienced and unthreatening... there weren't any good reasons to say no.

"Sh-sh-sure," he said quietly, forcing a weak smile as he padded up to the creek, stopping right in front of his three favourite stones without needing to consciously guide his feet. A cursory glance told him that the fish were swimming light today, they weren't showing in nearly the numbers and variety of yesterday. Maybe it was too cold a morning, and he should have waited for the sun to climb a little higher. Nevermind. A wriggle of colour caught his eye, and he watched the yellow perch follow the flow of the creek until it swam out of sight. A moment later, three more followed, all quite young and small but that was fine. He'd seen a perch almost as long as his forearm in this creek before, and had to wonder if it had taken a wrong turn somewhere. The smaller ones were easier.

With a practised ease, Duck knocked the central rock from its balanced upright position to laying on its side. This had the effect of cutting off about half of the stream, for this spot had been carefully chosen for how the creek grew abruptly narrow in this one section. What was already a loose bottleneck became a strong one as the current redirected itself to flow between his fallen-over rock and the one next to it, leaving a gap of about six inches which was now the path of least resistance. At least, down the centre of the creek; there were still gaps at either side which water flowed past, but he'd tried once to block those off and had just managed to flood everything. He didn't have the qualifications of a beaver. This dam was more than enough for his needs.

"It's n-n-not-" he started, then paused before saying 'hard', partly because he suddenly didn't want to depreciate himself. It wasn't hard because he made it easy. That wasn't the same as it not being difficult in the first place. "- I m-mean... let m-me sh-sh-sh-shhh-shhhow you." With the trap set, all he had to do was wait just beyond the gap, stood quite comfortably right in the middle of the shallow creek, and make sure he could spot a fish before it came. A few darted through the bottleneck without any movement from Duck, for he'd fixed his eyes on another perch which was moving slowly down the creek, and then waited a few moments, and it went to slip through the gap and - with almost insulting ease, he dipped his head and snatched it straight out. Tossing the fish about to get a different grip on it, he brought it swiftly down on the third rock, important because of how it presented a neat edge, perfect for smacking a fish's head against. The perch's twitches from there were only death throes, and he threw the yellow fish with blood streaking from its gills towards the bank where Rayne stood.

And that's when he remembered that he had company again. Having slipped so effortlessly into the zone, his mouth opened about to exclaim his surprise - but then, thankfully, he stopped himself. Hoping that Rayne hadn't noticed, he took a step back, feeling proud and self-conscious all at once, and licked his lips of the traces of fish there. "D-do you wuh, w-w-wuh-want to...?"