Duck Lake it's all shits and giggles until someone giggles and shits

Constantine hadn’t strayed too far from the Creek since their arrival. Durnehviir had been due at any time during their move, and once the pups had been born, he had stuck close to her side, assisting when he could and finding himself revelling in the shift of his life – he had gone from his entire family being either dead or missing.. and now, Durnehviir had given him new hope.
 
Their ranks had thinned slightly – though nothing that had him worried, given the few they held in the forest. Still, the swarthy male found himself skirting along the neutral territories that remained near their home, trailing after the herds and becoming more familiar with the area.
 
He didn’t expect the battered mess he came across. The whelp was still extremely young, though not as much as his own brood. A light frown pressed upon his brow, and Constantine paused, considering the scenario before him. His nose twitched as he lifted it, trying to determine if he could scent another wolf nearby – he didn’t. Prowling forward, the Mayfair gently nosed the boy’s shoulder, seeing if he could rouse him.