Stone Circle This is the cool patrol dance

Little patrol thread, maybe someone he hasn't met yet? <3 (Also teehee NSP in the title ;P If you know who they are, I love you haha.)

It was early morning that he awoke, looking out at the cloudy sky. It was going to be a cold, rainy day, it seemed. Not that he was too opposed with that weather - but some sun would have been nice. Either way, he had already decided that he was going to go out. He always did - patrolling was his number one task, and he wasn't lazy. Mawk lifted himself up from where he lay in the shared family den, stretching his legs and quietly creeping outside. He didn't want to wake up the sleeping pups, nor his beautiful wife. 

The air was cold, but he had expected as such. He thought nothing of it - just another Autumn. The Scout began to walk, leading himself to the borders where he began to follow and mark where he deemed necessary. Perhaps he'd come across another during this - someone to talk to in these early hours would be much appreciated.

Only really know 'em as Starbomb. :P

Burr woke with a start, lifting his head to see his father's curled tail disappear out of the den. Mawk's departure was immaculate, and the wolfdog's movement had nothing to do with his son's rising. Burr pulled in a deep breath and blinked sleepily. The real culprit, his heart, was hammering in his chest. Ever since Valette had shot out of her den and scruffed him, he hadn't been able to sleep through the night without reliving it or an imagined variation of it in a nightmare. After the first few fits, which had ended in Burr screaming himself out of a deep sleep, the eldest Saefyn had learned to wake up gracefully and quietly so as not to wake or worry his family.

He yawned mightily and smacked his lips, drawing in several deep breaths until his heart slowed its pounding. He rose quietly to his feet and padded around Cyron's sleeping form to slip out of the den into the brisk morning air. Since the ordeal with the den, Burr had sobered considerably, and not only because he was more tired than usual. If he wanted to avoid being attacked like that in the future, then the only thing to do was to grow up and learn the rules. He was almost four months old, and though Burr wanted to blame Valette for being the scary monster in the hole, he had come to know that it was he who should have known better.

He followed Mawk at a distance all the way to the borders without realizing where he was going until they got there. When they arrived, the father several long strides ahead of the son, Burr twitched his curled tail anxiously. His parents had told him not to go to the borders, but... well, he was almost four months old now, wasn't he? And he felt a lot older than he had a few weeks ago. Swallowing thickly, Burr headed toward his patrolling father and cleared his throat, only to very quickly ask, "can you teach me?" It was true that he had no real interest in guardian work, but Burr needed an excuse to be here, and recently he had been thinking about trying to see all the different pack roles in practice so he could decide what he really wanted to do in the future. This was as good an opportunity as any, and it would take his mind off his nightmare.

He was walking at a gentle pace, not having the need to rush, when the scent of his son came to him. The wolfdog turned his head to the side, glancing at the grey-coated boy who swiftly caught up to him. Mawk smiled, giving a small wag of his tail in greeting. "Burr, you're up early." He pointed out, raising a small brow. He knew that the boy had been having some trouble sleeping - those first few fits he'd had during the night had worried the father greatly, but they seemed to have died down. That, or maybe Burr had found a way to hide them. Still, however, Mawk did not press on the matter. His son was more than welcome to bring the subject up, but he knew that his fear of that day with Valette was most likely the cause, and if that was the case then only time would heal it. Either way, the wolfdog did not want to pressure Burr into talking about it.

Seeing his son so close to the borders did make him send a questioning glance to Burr, but the boy was getting older and he had to come around here sooner or later. Besides, his words - though seemingly unsure - softened his expression. The Scout smiled gently, nodding. "Sure, Bud. It's not that complicated - I'm sure you'll get it in no time." There wasn't a lot of difficulty in the task of a mecenary - not the daily tasks, at least. Marking the borders was hardly a tough job, but it could be when there were tresspassers. Marking should, hopefully, minimalise those chances though. 

"Okay - so, I'm doing a mercenary's daily task. Do you know what that is?" It was a simple question, yes, and he knew that Burr was a smart boy, but he didn't want to throw questions to him that he'd have no idea how to answer. Best to go simple until he knew what the boy already understood. While waiting for an answer, Mawk continued to move at a gentle walk, occasionally glancing at their surroundings or leaning down to sniff at a scent - or even rub against a tree to remark the borders of Easthollow.

He glanced away sheepishly when Mawk pointed out the hour of the morning, but he knew he couldn't hide much from his family even if he wanted to. "Couldn't sleep," he mumbled unhelpfully, then added, "had a bad dream," after several long beats. Mawk would know the reason, so Burr didn't say anything else on the subject. Both Illecebra and Mawk had indicated to him that Valette had only been protecting her babies and he wished he could just get over it, but he still didn't fully understand why she had attacked him. He hadn't even known about her pups. Now that he did, Burr was far too terrified of repercussions to go anywhere near them, Valette, or that part of the territory.

As they moved along at a casual pace, Burr pricked his ears and sniffed the dancing wind, all the while watching what Mawk was doing. Somewhere deep inside where his instincts lived, Burr understood exactly why his father was peeing on things and rubbing his shoulders against the trees. He didn't yet have the proper term for that instinct, so instead he tried, "watching for bad guys?" That was what patrolling was all about, right?

Burr mentioned having a bad dream - just as he suspected, though he still did not press. He knew the boy would recover over time, and hopefully the dreams would clear up too. Instead he nodded gently, changing the subject to the current task - patrolling. 

No doubt Burr knew something of patrolling, all wolves had the instincts that drove them to mark - to claim their territory, but the boy had, perhaps, yet to learn why. "Correct - Border patrolling is what I'm doing now. It means I mark the borders and keep the smell strong. And while I'm walking, I'll also check the caches where we bury our food, and if I see any bad guys I chase them away." It was not often there was actually a 'bad guy' around, but sometimes there would be a fox or something that had come in to steal food. Or, like in Ganador, a wolf might tresspass. Usually for the same reason - food. "You need to mark to show that the territory is yours and they aren't allowed in unless they have a good reason. Which is why a wolf will call when they are looking to join, or when they have a message. Not only is it polite, but it lets the pack know that they are waiting, and not crossing the borders."

"Now, do you know what might be a 'bad guy' besides another wolf?"

Burr had no real interest in being a pack guardian, but he was an attentive pupil as his father launched into a verbal lesson on patrolling. He kept his ears tightly turned toward Mawk at all times, regardless of the swivel of his head as he examined the buffer zone they presently walked through and bobbed his head accordingly to show he understood. Patrolling was a lot more work than just walking near the borders. Burr's instincts bid him mark the trees and ground where the scent of his pack was strongest, but instinct relative to hierarchy also held him back. Without ever being told, Burr knew it was the right of the highest ranked wolves to mark the most.

"Can't someone cross the borders when there's no one patrolling?" Burr asked with a slight furrow in his brow. The wolves of Easthollow were very diligent, he had no doubt about that, but they couldn't possibly watch every inch of the borders every moment of every day, could they? What was to stop a bad guy from stealing into their midst unnoticed and getting out again before the pack could do anything about it? Lack of interest or no, Burr's curiosity about the little details was mounting by the moment.

"Ummm," he hummed as he considered his father's question. His ears fell back along the sloped lines of his head when he finally said, "I dunno." He had heard of all the possible dangerous animals out there from Illecebra and to stay away from them, but when Burr thought of a bad guy, he thought of a wily wolf. A dastardly devil. He didn't think about bears, cougars, foxes and coyotes.