Duck Lake waterside

The sight of the Duck Lake would be welcome by many a traveler. The body of water was large and fenced in by a treeline of aspen. A wonderful spot for a refreshing swim and cool place in the shade. This was, of course, if a prospective traveler did not mind company. The air thrummed with the quacking of ducks and the lake's surface rippled with the numerous bodies of the fowl for which the lake was named.

Hidden within the shade of the aspen perimeter, Vale held a crouch. Gilded eyes sweeping the scene. Drakes and hens were abound and the odd puffball of a duckling meandered after their mother. She wouldn't be shocked to stumble across the odd nest if she walked the treeline.

The small wolf was spoiled for choice. Kvarsheim was lovely for hares and grazing deer, but they lacked much in the way of bird. A sudden craving that would be soon fulfilled, if she remained unseen.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the land and setting the lake aflame with gold, as if a star had fallen to earth and become trapped beneath the waves. The surface shimmered in the waning light, and the air was alive with the soft quacks and rustling feathers of a large flock of ducks.
 
It had been months since she had ventured out of the valley. Winter had driven her away, seeking refuge and strength in a distant, hidden place. Now she was back, her body restored to its former glory, muscles rippling beneath her sleek, oil-slick coat.
 
Although the scent of ducks was tantalizing, it wasn't what had drawn her here. There was another scent—one that captured her attention with a tantalizing familiarity yet carried a hint of something different. She followed it with a quiet, determined elegance, her senses finely attuned to every nuance in the air.
 
As she prowled through the dense underbrush, Grackle’s tattered ears twitched, picking up the faint, rhythmic clucking of the ducks nesting nearby. She moved like a shadow, her paws near-silent on the soft ground, eyes scanning the terrain with a predatory gleam.
 
Nestled in the thick underbrush of the aspen grove lay her target. Her breath caught in her throat as she approached, the scent growing stronger, more distinct. Disappointment flickered through her as the scent became clear, but a lead was a lead, was it not?

What was it Grandfather had told her? Others were more cooperative if you greeted them with a smile, and showed interest in what they were doing. Okay. She could do this. She took a deep breath.
 
Grackle appeared next to the woman like a phantom, her lips twisted into a too-wide smile—razor sharp teeth catching the light with a flash.
 
Hunting? she asked, her voice a low, almost purring growl, adder-like eyes transfixed unblinking on the little she-wolf.

A dark ear twisted as the air shifted in the underbrush. A new presence on her radar, Vale turned to be immediately be taken aback by the pantherine woman. Faced with wide eyes and pointed teeth, a startled Oh! fled from her maw before she snapped her jaws together. Her gaze flitted towards the ducks, praying that they had not been alerted to the wolves nearby.

Gilded eyes returned to the panther-woman. Vale's ears pinned to her head and her tail wagged passively between her hocks. Her heart in her throat, she scrambled to quickly, and quietly, address the much larger woman. Hunting? Oh—yes, hunting. She gestured with her muzzle towards the abundant water fowl.

I've been fancying a bit of bird. Vale collected herself somewhat, ears now curiously turned towards the stranger. Her gaze turned questioning, her head tilting slightly. Did you want to help?

Grackle leaned in slightly, her tattered ears flicking forward to show she was listening. No need to be nervous, she purred melodically, her snake-like gaze boring into the woman's. If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already. She let the words hang in the air, hoping they came across as comforting. That was comforting, right?

I've never really hunted birds before. Only their eggs. Her voice carried a note of amusement as she pondered this. But sure, I'll lend you a paw. Why not? A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. She would never turn down a chance to broaden her already impressive range of skills.

Grackle shifted her weight, muscles rippling beneath her sleek, oil-slick coat. She could almost feel the tension radiating off the woman, and she tried—truly, she did—to put her at ease. Show me the way, little duck hunter, she growled, a playful edge to her voice. I'll follow your lead. The she-wolf grinned, lips pulling back to reveal just a few too many teeth.