Arrow Lake i saw you yesterday,

AW

a slant of sunlight cut through the embankment, a pylon of radiant light that dappled coelho in a halo of soft molten gold. she was wading, the water she tread through a sheen of illuminant copper -- her attention fixated down,  on the fish that darted in sleek motions away from her. their flitting scales a brass hue, translucent blue fins caught in brief spells of goldenrod light.

she was no fisher - not in the deeper waters, and with a sigh she pulled towards the embankment with cascades of rippling liquid trailing behind her.

From a ledge above, he drew toward the sound of an animal moving through the water, eyes narrowing on the small coywolf as she turned toward the rocky shore. His tail drifted across his hocks in an idle sway as one ear turned to catch the throaty croak of a raven that banked over the trees. The black wolf then lied down, crossing his forelegs. His white toes peeked over the rock's edge. He neither invited notice nor tried to avoid it as his impassive stare settled onto her, observing in particular the richer color that decorated her muzzle and ears.

The young bear traveled out along the edges of the lake at a swift pace. He’d caught her scent some ways back and had urged himself forward in hopes of closing the space between them. Coelho was wild, and Bronte had no qualms with her wandering away on a whim. The shadow did want to make sure that she was well fed – well, in general – and unharmed. Once he had found a peace of mind in this, he was eager to share with her the prospects that he had discovered in only a short while.
 
The young male first heard the splashing of water. His ears swiveled to meet it, and then his dark gaze fell on the slight frame and sharp rusted markings of her coat. Swinging his tail behind him, Bronte paced himself at a canter and moved to close the distance between their two bodies. Once he had bounded closer to her frame, the DeMonte offered the closest thing to a genuine smile to the nimble woman before breathing a sigh. “There you are,” he stated gruffly. It was almost as though he had been searching for her for days, with no success.
 
Then, his eyes caught sight of the large black male and he frowned. He was a short distance away and he seemed comfortable in his position on the rocky shore. “Who’s that? You replaced me already?”

it was the hoarse squawk of a raven that caused coelho to first glance from her failed enterprise, and inadvertently, make her aware of another wolf's presence. at first she thought the dark shadow was the form of bronte -- her features lit up and just as swiftly fell as she saw the draped limbs, their toes dipped in snow.

not bronte.

she bit her lower lip, long ears flat to her skull as she thought of how to address this grand stranger -- only to be interrupted by the warm call of a familiar voice. her tail swept across the water, sending deep ripples behind her. she surged forward through the water at a splashing gallop, pronking right over to bronte with wild drops of water behind her. "oh hello! hi!" she gushed, prancing around her dark companion before she froze and fixed her gaze on the not-bronte figure ahead. "him? i don't know who that is." she admitted hushedly, her ears flattening and then lifting just as absurdly. "do you?"

His eyes slowly perused the slim angles that made her — openly, as if she were his possession to behold. But there was nothing covetous in his gaze. His expression remained disinterested even as a forward question alighted on his tongue but was held.

She took note of him. For the sparest of moments she seemed excited to see him, and then her ears fell to her skull and her teeth chewed at her lip. He quirked a brow, his question answered when another black-furred wolf arrived and their familiarity was bared for the world to see.

This other wolf could have been his younger brother.

His ears twitched forward as the coywolf spoke quietly. He had heard them plainly enough. They wondered about him but he offered nothing. He simply laid his broad head down, the white of his chin leaned against the stone, and watched like a raven on a limb.

She met him with a joyful glint in her gaze and trotted around him like a lupine dancer for a half moment before turning her attention to the dark stranger. Bronte felt some unease, but the other brute hadn’t moved from his perch and it allowed for some posture to remain lax until he did – if he would – and for the young DeMonte to trust that Coelho truly didn’t know him. She returned his inquiry and the dark bear shrugged his shoulders. “No idea – you on your own, stranger?” he answered her in a hushed voice and then called directly to the green-eyed figure. There was a short wagging of his tail to offer some semblance of friendliness before he waited to see if their quiet company would offer a response or hold his tongue and ignore the duo. With his comfortable state, Bronte wouldn’t have blamed him for casting them aside in hopes of attaining a moment of peace and quiet.

small ripples carried on behind coelho's undulating tail - as she conferred quietly with bronte (quietly being fairly subjective for certainly, jagwyr possessed two functioning ears) she could not help but steal glance towards the male on the ledge. everything from his stately posture to his mein of indifference suggested a wearied state of importance that coelho was either too dense or too distactable to put into words.

all the same she flashed him a smile, her long ears tilted toward as she awaited an answer from the stone-like wolf on the rock.

"Yep," the black wolf answered casually. The other male's wagging tail was noted, but Jagwyr's posture remain unchanged and insouciant as it was. "You two a couple?" He asked, arching a single brow in a way that suggested some mild curiosity about their familiarity with one another. He a second question — the one he had held back prior — that he directed now toward the female. "Who whelped you — the wolf, or the coyote?"