Based on the childhood development of Elwood Junior, it was probably a widely held belief that Blackthorn children never leave home. Based on Liffey and Lagan thus far, it was true. But that was about to change, for poised on the precipice of Redhawk territory was the second of the twin rivers, stretched up on his tiptoes to see the lake across the way.
There was a splash in the water, and like a bullet from the barrel of a gun, off went Lagan. He carried himself on long legs to the ice-encrusted edge of the lake, where he stopped and peered long and hard out at the spot rippling from the disturbance. Soon the lake would freeze over completely, but for now, he perked his dark ears and waited for the splash to return.
It seemed Brandy, like Lagan, was wandering from her home today -- usually, she was a home-bound soul, but in the past months since she'd returned from the mountains with her mother, her paws seemed to enjoy the wandering moreso even than she -- in the direction of the Caldera. Some part of her always hoped she'd run into Peregrine on neutral territory as to better befriend him, never daring to get even within scenting distance of the Redhawk territory, but it always seemed she met anybody but him.
Today, that somebody carried the scent of Redhawk Caldera -- excitedly, she hurried in the direction of the lake, trotting into view of the greyscale boy with slight dissaopintment. On the other hand, the grey Blackthorn was young, and Brandy's experience with wolves younger than she were limited to Sebastian and Pearl's pups, having been an only child. She watched him bounce at the water and chuffed playfully as she approached.
There was a quiet, distant woof that made Lagan raised his head and swivel it about to find the speaker. She wasn't difficult to pick out: stark cinnamon on snow, impossible to miss. The youngster turned his ears toward her, but it was only momentary; the surface of the lake rippled as another splash plinked across the water, drawing is attention back 'round to it.
When he looked back Brandy's way after the surface smoothed itself out, she was heading back the way she came. Lagan's brow crinkled quizzically and he murmured a good-natured, "weirdo," before crashing through the ice gathering at the edge of the lake in an effort to get closer to the splashing. The water proved far too cold for him, however, and eventually he departed back to the Caldera with the fur on the lower half of all his legs freezing in the cold air.