Stone Circle not pennys boat

There were two or three things he might change about Easthollow (he hadn't counted, and he'd not yet asked their names), but all in all, it was a nice place to live. The wolves seemed to be good ones, and the territory was livable, and the prey had been abundant enough.

It was prey he had on his mind, now, as he wandered around the outskirts of the territory, hunting down a packmate to finagle into going on a deer chase with him. He'd seen a limping doe in the meadow earlier that day and wanted a hand or two in taking her down.

Burr wasn't exactly the sort of wolf Murdock was looking for—too young to be any help hunting, even if the prey was already injured—but Burr was what Murdock was going to get. Since his recent venture to the pack's buffer zone, Burr had expanded his wandering range to include the entirety of Easthollow's territory, up to and including the borders. The outskirts were where he headed to today, and he was jogging along and minding his own business when he found the older man.

Recalling Murdock from the recent pack gathering and remembering that the older wolf had seemed just as averse to approaching Valette as Burr was, the boy picked up his pace and cautiously called out, "hey, what'cha doing?" He lacked his previous playful inflection and his voice had taken on a more mature edge, but his typical curiosity was ever present even now.

Another pack member arrived soon enough. Murdock watched him draw nearer with an expression if great wariness. He didn't like pups, and it would be a few more months before he could stand to be near to Burr and his siblings.

His whole body stiffened at the sound of the child's voice, and a tiny growl tickled the back of his throat before he covered it with words, harsh and dismissive.

"Huntin' - get out if here, kid. Got no business bein' out here all on your own."

The sentence was punctuated with a stern glare and a flash of yellow teeth. Murdock wasn't going to take no for an answer, and hoped he wouldn't have to resort actually shepherding the boy back into safer parts of the territory.

If one were to ask Burr what he really thought of Easthollow in the wake of Murdock's gravelly response, he would have naively claimed to hate the place because the adults were mean. Some of the younger ones were cool—Nikai and Sunny both came to mind—but so far, his experiences with the older pack wolves had been completely discouraging. His ears fell flat and his neck recoiled when Murdock growled a response at him, followed by a flash of teeth that couldn't possibly be misinterpreted, but for the moment, the boy remained still, if submissive.

For the first time, a hot flash of indignation sparked in his chest. When Valette had charged out of the den at him, Burr deserved the admonishment. He had been in the wrong that time, and that was something he was coming to understand. Eventually, he would accept it completely. This time, Burr didn't feel like he was doing anything wrong at all, and he felt strangely defiant in the face of being treated like he was.

"I'm four months old," he replied, as if that would somehow change the situation. There were so many details that he was missing that would clarify that if only he was aware of them: Murdock disliking children, Murdock being relatively busy and not in the mood to deal with an inquisitive juvenile, and other variables he wasn't privy to. All Burr could focus on was being told he couldn't be here when he believed he could.

Mur was not at all surprised when his warning did not get across to the boy. Children were such terrible creatures - and besides, Murdock could not quite pull off this whole 'scary' thing. He could, however, pull off irritable and belligerent rather well.

"Don't care," he thundered, raising his voice, but putting no inflection of anger into his voice. (He wasn't going to holler at a little boy, was he?) To punctuate the words, he snapped his teeth toward the boy again, letting his jaws clack together with a loud noise just as his nose bumped against the kid's side. Hopefully, the sound and sensation combined would cause the child to think he'd actually been bitten, which might get him to run back to his mother.

Away from Murdock.

Murdock's intention may have been to keep his voice relatively calm, if loud, but his actions had the exact opposite effect. Burr was older this time than he had been when it was Valette, though, and as terror rooted once more for a hold on his heart, so too did his indignation rise into a tide of anger at how callously he was treated by his own pack mates. Before he knew what he was doing, he was striking for the man's muzzle with his teeth as it dove toward him. He didn't know whether he made contact or not, for half a beat later, Burr spun on his heel and fled into the territory's heart.

It was only after the boy turned and fled that Murdock realized his muzzle was bleeding, and so, he was far less annoyed by the fact than he could have been. Still, the male released an irritable growl as the wound flared with sudden, stinging pain.

Kids, he thought to himself, moving along once more, are going to be the death of me.