Swiftcurrent Creek its 3 in the morning and i'm feeling just fine

Since his initial run-in with the wolves formerly of Ravensblood, Phoenix had spent little to no time within the confines of Swiftcurrent. He hadn't bothered to learn its layout at first, or spend any time among its members as he came to terms with his status as a packwolf again, but this neglect had begun to evolve in recent days. With Durnehviir's due date nearing, Phoenix instinctively began to patrol more, lingering nearer and nearer to the wolves he'd aligned himself with for the time being. Now was not the time for exploration— now was the time to prepare.

Tired of lifting his leg on the outskirts, the young upstart ventured inland, eager to find a packmate so that he might goad them into doing something useful with him. He thought he'd be killing two birds with one stone that way.

At the creek's titular riverbed, Phoenix spied someone he'd only seen in passing— a blond-faced male, grey of body and lost deep in thought. Unaware that it was possible to startle a packmate, the firebrand traipsed forward with a confident stride, and came right up to bump the male's shoulder with his nose.