Wolf RPG

The coal-furred female sniffed curiously at the ground for a moment, attempting to locate the snowy figure of Luke. He had promised a fishing lesson and she was in no position to turn it down. She wanted to become the best she could possibly be, and if that meant getting her paws a little wet she would get over it. She nibbled patiently at a burr stuck to her shoulder, nosing the fur back down afterwards. Her blue eyes gazed over her coat as she looked for other things stuck in the black-hole that was her long fur.

After grooming out her fur, she gazed up to the sky. Perhaps it was too early for Luke to be awake. She, after all, was an early bird. It was a habit she'd acquired when she was on the move, sleep late and wake early. It helped her move further with less issue. Ilya laid down, rolling onto her side to perhaps nap while she waited... Or at least soak up what warmth the early morning sun was giving off. Her paws dangled a little as she laid there, and she looked rather goofy. Otherwise, her small but slender body was stretched out nicely and displayed the muscles she had. Her stomach was even noticeably filled in and less hollow than when she arrived. Her eyes closed as she relaxed, but kept her senses alert for the males scent or any movements in the clearing.

The blue-nosed wolf had tucked himself beneath a low-hanging bough of a spruce tree, absently gnawing at a maple branch. He peeled the bark and heartwood in strips, trying for longer and longer strips each time and building a discard pile beside him. He, too, was an early bird. Or, perhaps just restless. The pack had been successful on most of their hunts, and the caches were full from their collected and individual efforts. Their borders were freshened daily, and there had been no callers recently.

Life in the hollow was peaceful. Their pack faced none of the recent troubles that both of their neighbors north of them had been challenged with. But life in the hollow was also... boring. The realization struck him like a lance. After living the travelling lone wolf life, never knowing what was around the next corner and never being sure of a full belly or a safe night's sleep, he had initially taken comfort in routine. Now, the mundanity seemed to be bothering him a bit.

He shook his head, certain that he was still acclimatizing to his new life. After all, he was still excited to be a part of this new pack, to see it grow, and to be part of a family. He still felt a great deal of contentment. He just needed to entertain himself more. Fortunately, the scent of one of his packmates was just the distraction he needed. Abandoning his stick, he chased down Ilya's scent, finding her resting in the clearing. He woofed to get her attention as he stood with tail wagging and ears perked forward.

"Luke!" The blackened she-wolf called in greeting before standing to stretch. Her body lurched backwards as she stretched, and then forwards, her body appearing even more slender. She trotted over curiously and excitedly. "Goodmorning," she woofed, dipping her head in a polite hello. "You're up early," she commented, nosing him playfully. "How are you?" She asked, her jaws turned upwards in a grin.

Within moments of the brutes arrival her mood had drastically changed, and she was now happy and perky... A little goofy, even. Her tail wagged as she waited his response, her blue eyes glinting as the sun shone through the leafy trees. Leaves fell around them, but Ilya ignored them hastily, as she did not wish to believe that fall would eventually come to an end.

The blue-nosed wolf returned her warm greeting with a quick nip to her ear, his own tail waving through the air. "Oh I'm just splendid, it's never too early to start the day," he chirped with a wink. "How about you? You're looking good!" The hollow's black female was settling in well. In her short stay so far, she had filled out more and was looking as healthy as she should, and she seemed genuinely content.

"Well I can't turn down fishing!" He laughed. He had not forgotten that he had offered to show her a thing or two, and was delighted that she was ready to learn now that she was fed, rested, and settled in to her new home. He was even more delighted that she was so keen, she had tried herself. His tail waved in wide arcs as he gestured with his muzzle for her to follow him, his blue-padded paws leisurely strolling toward the stream. "So what did you try?" He asked as he turned an ear toward her. "What do you already know?" If she knew nothing at all, it did not matter, but it would help him to help her if he knew exactly where she stood in her fishing prowess.

Ilya followed behind him, her tail wagging happily as she padded along. Her blue eyes seemed to compliment his blue features as they padded beside one another. They were very contrasting in fur color, she noticed, her dark black and his snowy white; the blue popped out among the two. When they reached the stream, she sniffed it curiously, then perked her ears when she looked back up at him. "Well," she began, tilting her head, "Not much, but I made the assumption not to let them see your shadow, and probably to smack them out of the water," she replied. She watched him a second, then elaborated on her own attempted. "I didn't get very far with that method though, most of my catch attempts caused me to lose my balance and tumble in," she half muttered and half chuckled, looking to him with a playful gaze.

Her first assumption was correct, and he nodded in response, but her second idea about fishing was better suited to cats and bears, creatures with the sharp claws needed to hook a fish in such a fashion. Without them, a wolf needed to use its teeth. He explained as they continued their walk toward the water. "You're right about not letting them see your shadow, and be quiet when you approach the stream. Make soft steps or you can spook them." He smiled. "Now, as for the second part," he chuckled. "We're not cats. Or bears. We can't smack them out of the water. You're gonna have to get your teeth around them, and you don't need to go swimming to do that." He cast her a playful wink. She was going to need to stay on her paws if she wanted to catch dinner.

Ilya stuck out her tongue a little, scrunching up her nose. She let out a playful growl and wagged her tail. "You don't know me," she responded in a matter-of-fact tone, but the silly expression she wore proved she wasn't offended in any way. The pretty, black fae's head fell back down towards the water, watching the ripples as it rushed along. Her focus turned off of the ripples and onto her reflection. At the strange angle from down below, the scar under her jaw was clear as day. She looked away.

Refusing to let anything ruin her time with her friend, Ilya found her tail wagging again. She looked back to Luke and gave him a goofy smile. She bowed in a teasing manner, "Please, show me your ways."

He snuck his blue tongue out between his incisors in response to the appearance of her own, before shifting his attention to the stream. "Watch," he whispered. It was demonstration time, and he began right where he was, laying his paws down softly as he stole toward the water. He stepped in with such precision and grace that barely a ripple formed around his legs as one paw after another descended to the cobble on the stream bed. He took a position at the rim of a small shallow pool, so that the sun cast his shadow toward the banks and not across the water as he had instructed.

He was silent for some time, as now was when patience became necessary. Beneath the surface of the stream a small school of white suckers, a type of bottom feeding fish, circled. These were an excellent training fish. They often swam rather than lying in wait, and were less slippery than trout and not nearly as skittish. The blue-nosed wolf was still and silent as the school made their way toward him. He tensed, lowering himself closer to the water, and once the fish were in range he struck. Luke was like a coiled snake, precisely striking at his prey and grasping it with his canines.

He returned to the bank, grinning, and dropped the slain fish on the ground. "Your turn," he invited, gesturing toward the stream with his muzzle, hoping that his demonstration was sufficient in lieu of a slew of verbal direction.

It's a suckerfish," he explained. "It's a bottom feeder. They are not as shy as other fish, like trout, so they are easier to catch. Good eating, too." If you asked him, at least. The blue-nosed wolf had never met a fish he did not like, and even enjoyed them sun-cured into a dry, chewy jerky-like meat.

He observed as she stepped forward to take her turn. Her form was quiet, her steps quiet, and she took care not to cast her shadow across the pool. The spooked fish were absent for several moments, before they resumed their lazy schooling patterns. He could not help but swish his tail with anticipation as he leaned forward, ears lifted, watching to see if she would be successful. The fish drew near, and she lunged for one, but came up with a bit of wood instead of dinner. He stared for a moment, pursing his lips as he tried not to laugh, but mirth was plain as day on his face and in his twinkling eyes.

"It's okay," he snort-chuckled, still trying to contain his laughter, but it was no use. He crackled up giggling. He had to shake his head to regain his composure. "I'm sorry, it takes time to learn to fish. To make matters worse, the water plays tricks. The fish are never exactly where they appear to be, but you sort of learn to aim as you go." Clearing his throat, he offered a comment on his first experiences. "I fell in too, when I first started, and I caught all manner of things but fish. But I kept at it until I figured it out. That is how you cheat," he winked.

He nipped at her ear as she headbutted him, laughing. She said she would keep at it, and he nodded his head. He hoped she would, and hoped to see her learn to become ever bit the fisher that he was. Time would tell.

"Hmm," he hummed. He shook his head. "Nope, don't believe I did." With a warm smile he settled down to share the fish with her, biting it in half and offering the black female her pick of the head or tail. This was how the pair passed their morning, well into the afternoon, lounging by the river and enjoying each other's company.