Totoka River "he waits for the wind to carry him home."

The coast called to him again and again, but he knew that there was no sustenance within the big water for him to survive upon. Perhaps upon the bank, where there was nothing but sand reaching for miles, but Clarence was not practiced in scrounging for a meal in tide pools nor in the act of fighting the chitin-clad beasts that frequented the area. So he did head east along the coast, but when signs of a river came to his ears and his nose, he deviated towards that instead.

His path led southeast until the river's vanishing point among some trees. With the weather growing more mild and the snow slowly easing its grip from the land, he did not feel inclined to slink beneath those trees. He relished the sunlight, bare as it was, and set to work investigating this new river. It had a vivacious current and a collection of overhangs, some stonework for crossing, and seemed like the idyllic place for him to gather and feast upon his favorite meal — fresh fish!

The creature settled on an abuttment with partial tree cover. He was drawn to it for the shafts of golden light that caught upon the uneven ground, and from that vantage point he could stare whistfully in to the depths of a deeper segment of the Totoka. Clarence wished for fish, but he was just as enamored by the play of the light in the water. He basked in the sun, sprawling out on his belly so that his long limbs could reach out over the bank, and he felt the splash of the fluid against his toes on occasion. It was perfection.

i have an irish wolfhound/lab mix; she is the best and clarence is just as adorable lmao <3

heading back in the direction of grimnismal, mahler realized his stride must lengthen if he was to arrive at the storm-torn borders within a reasonable timeframe. and yet he did not hurry too quickly; he was enjoying his time away, and alone. the pack he had chosen was not one of clamour and idle things, yet mahler found himself overwhelmed all the same.
the sunwarmed tendrils of a river led him to its shallows, and the wolf made as if to drink. yet there was another here, and he stared implacably at the odd beast with coarse hair lying prone at its bank.
wolf-like, but not fully lupine, the creature was long-limbed and affable enough. mahler slunk closer with a lift of his lip in warning, but if the other was not aggressive, neither would he show force. quietly he lapped at the river's surface, pausing between moments to glance sidelong at the predator on the bank with his hard lilac eyes.

My best friend from college had one too! A golden pony-sized boy. He passed away last year but he was the best doggo!

Aside from the spectral creature with the collar, Clarence had not been fortunate enough to meet anyone else within these wilds. He did not know what signs to look for when hunting for a wolf; his skills were solely aquatic, and his lack of social graces made this quite obvious. So when a grizzled silver-black thing spirited its way along the opposite bank, he didn't know what to do. The other creature had been leery of him despite his innate kindness (or what he perceived as good behavior, which to a wolf would likely be overbearing and strange). This time he merely watched, and the stranger took notice of him with a lift of his lip. The thinnest grin imparted, Clarence continued to merely lay there.

Then, still incredibly passive despite the potential threat, the big guy's mouth flew open in a gasping yawn. He coughed softly as he closed his maw, then lazily flopped over upon his left side. If anything about that was threatening then Clarence wouldn't be prepared for retaliation in the slightest - but he was warm, and happy, and saw no reason to fight with this other. A moment later he rolled across his broad back and to his right side, flashing his belly because physics demanded it, and adjusted afterwards so his long and bearded face was positioned atop his awkwardly lengthed limbs.

One look to the stranger was all that came after. Sort of a, what?

doggos are so pure ;;;

mahler's perfect respite, in which he had tolerated the existence of the other, was disturbed further by the to-and-fro rolling of the creature. recoiling somewhat, the musiker's eyes slid to narrowed slits; he regarded the other with no small or vague expression of derision, his features further darkened with spite when the other looked to him cheekily.
the wolf-thing's beard draped down across thin forelegs — mahler rocked back on his haunches and observed all he could see of the rangy beast, until his physical curiosities had been sated. "wolf?" he asked, a single word hanging in the thickness of an accent he had never been able to shake. his demeanour soon returned to something cool, something at once both inviting and unfriendly, and waited for an answer to his monosyllabic inquiry.

Clarence enjoyed the warmth of the spring sunlight as he lay; he closed his eyes to bask in it and effectively broke his stare with the other. He could feel the grizzled creature's eyes upon him but did not care, as was evidenced by the lazy posture of his slouching body along the bank. When they spoke, his limp ears trembled and he popped open one eye to again regard the man.

Mostly, said the beareded one cryptically, and left it at that. Clarence had never wondered about his own origins nor worried about the superficial differences others noted between himself and a pure-blood; he had four legs, a tail, a set of sharp teeth, and that was enough. Most of the time the heavy-set man would outweigh and outmatch a wolf because of his particular mixture of bloodlines — but he was not the type to display wonton aggression, and had not experienced much in the ways of the wolf, even after his many months of life.

The river coursed its way beneath him, filling the quiet lull in the coversation with a calming staccato. He clears his throat and mutters, hungry?

the odd thing gave a one word response, but the shared laconic nature suddenly shared between the two of them pleased mahler more than he was willing to evince. the musiker was beginning to settle himself to the bank when the other spoke again.
sweeping forward his charcoal ears, the grimnismal denzien watched the beast for a few ticking seconds before he straightened and glanced along the riverpath. in time, his stoneflower gaze inched back to the bearded face. "yes." mahler gathered himself then slowly to his paws, waiting for the other to follow suit.
he did not know what meat roamed here; hunger had not yet sparked in his own awareness, but the man was curious about the creature who would be his companion, he supposed, and wished to see how the other moved, how he made his way in the world. yes, yes — perhaps for mahler there would be music in their time together, too.