Broken Antler Fen Any Plans?

Ambrosia sprawled out in a beam of sunlight in the middle of the Fen. She was both listening for any disturbances and grooming her pelt. The rays of light caused her tan-orange fur to light up, ginger as fire, while the inky look of her underfur was intensified. Every few minutes, her lemon eyes scanned in a circle around her. She was a bit lonely, but she knew she couldn't go off on a new adventure without talking to Sebastian first, plus the she wolf had every intention to really put in effort to get to know her pack mates. Now that she had her head right and wouldn't be as mopey, thanks to Pearl, the young female was finally ready and willing to be 100% part of this pack. There was just one problem.... She couldn't figure out just HOW to bond. She could hunt, but she wasn't a hunter. She knew nothing of herbs. Pups and the such she was good with, but there were no beings younger than her own daughter in the pack, who no longer needed a mothers care. Ambrosia was a warrior, a protector! Both in and out of the borders, her job was to ensure her pack was safe. The tawny female let out a soft, lonely howl, calling others in her predicament to her. Maybe another lonely soul would happen to hear her and come, or even just happen across the lounging female. If not, well, then she might just have to play aa few harmless but funny pranks on her family!

gonna use this thread for val's naturalist trade :D

Valtyr was a dutiful subject. His days were filled with patrols, taking care to revive the border marks with his own special flavor of lemonade. There hadn't been much action at their doorstep, however, and so his attention turned to exploration. There was still much of the Fen he didn't understand. It was an unusual, but beautiful, patch of land and particularly moist. Streams flowed into broad lakes that seeped into the soft forest loam. Tall, reedy plants disguised bogs as a peaceful dales... which was the exact trap Valtyr had fallen into.

What looked like solid ground had turned out to be a watery bog. Drenched and muddy (and looking much like a scrawny drowned rat) Valtyr waddled uncomfortably across the territory on the mission to find clean water. Mud was aaalllllll up where it wasn't supposed to be, and at the most inopportune moment the Sveijarn stumbled upon a reposed Ambrosia who was grooming her spotless pelt. Frozen like an ambling Sasquatch, Valtyr could only unintelligently mumble, "uuuuhhhhhhh," awkwardly as his eyes darted around for the best possible escape route.

Ambrosia had heard him approaching, but didn't bother to look just yet. Why bother? She knew who it was by scent and could feel his paw steps heading for her. What she didn't learn until looking behind her that he was COVERED in mud.
       "What the hell?" 
She stood and tipped her head curiously at him. Her tawny fur was now laying long and flat, her colors blending together to create the warm and silky blanket covering her. The thought of a mud bath though, that actually sounded quite fun! 
                     "Looks like you had a bunch of fun!"
She was genuine in her words, thinking he intentionally was playing in mud, and her lemon eyes sparkled.