Fool's Gold Chasm hope clouds observation

Eyes wide, ears open, FGC! Here's a pack meeting, "night howl" style. NO post order; first round ends Saturday, August 7th!
Optional soundtrack: Ripples in the Sand - Hans Zimmer

July 30th; Evening; Few Clouds; 73 ° F, 22.8 ° C

Adelard had lost count of the days and nights that had gone by since he had ascended in rank. What Hudson had ultimately left him was a small group of barely-acquainted friends... if "friends" were what they could call one another. Adelard had a chance now to change all that.

At present, there was nothing set in place aside from the fact that he was obedient to Saga's every request. This was a test, a chance to show himself and the world who he truly was. His core principles, even as he was stripped down to nothing still remained. A rogue man amidst a group of strangers could still heed a sense of duty and belonging.

All had been well since Summer began. In fact, almost too well in the past few months. Whirlwinds and other natural elements aside, the Red Fern Forest had been quiet. Peaceful. Suspicious. The pack was overdue for a reality check.

In the day's last light, the Leader regarded the gathering darkness. He figured now was a better time than ever. He would be able to catch those who were either just starting their evening agendas or turning in for the night.

Just checking in, he offered in solemn song. Coyote scent in the west but all clear. Fools Gold Chasm, report status. Sound off...

heat stroke, bring the fire
ADELARD GERAU
black smoke, I take it higher

Woya crept amongst the ferns, tracking the very scent Adelard himself had discovered as well. When it came to protecting her brother's brood from other animals, she had proven to be, in a word, ruthless. She wanted to see this punk predator gone with her own two eyes, even if it took her a ways outside of the pack's protection.

Still, she could clearly hear Adelard's call as it lifted into the darkened sky. Just as one could expect, the song held the same notes that defined the man himself. Direct. Formal. Authorative. Woya couldn't quite help the reaction that sourced from her own chest, arcing melodically from her maw across the canopies.

You're a nerd.

She imagined he wouldn't quite like that, but oh well; she was here for Huds and his kids, she'd never promised herself to the strangers tagging along with them. With that said, Adelard was doing a pretty awesome job for someone with this all suddenly thrust upon him. Even Woya had to admit that, especially because she knew the ragtag band did mean something to Hudson and he'd want to come back to it in one piece.

But you're also appreciated. I'm on the yote. Over.

Riven wasn’t one to stay awake much at night these days - he found it more pleasant to sleep through rather than let his mind wander, even if he knew Adelard was probably still rather active at night. The newly minted leader was doing a very good job in taking over for Hudson, and Riven was going to have to seek him out later to talk about the whole situation with him. For advising purposes, of course. It had nothing to do with the fact that Riven missed his sun-gold eyes and the way they lit up when he smiled.

No sir. That would just be embarrassing.

He’d been about to doze off when he heard the howl, followed up by one from Woya. Coyote scent could be dangerous, what with the pups they had running about, but he doubted any of the Fools Gold wolves would let much happen to them. Besides, Woya could probably handle it.

Things were quiet northbound in the territory. Riven often slept in the main den, but he’d been a bit too far tonight and his leg was still achy, so he’d picked a spot under some bushes and decided to call it a day.

So formal. His first statement was playful and lighthearted as it carried through the air. It’s quiet in the north, he continued, electing not to lift his body from the ground. A small smile formed on his maw as he finished, prompted by Woya’s teasing, Be nice to each other.