Golden Glade Can't Beat Habits

A male rubs his foreleg in circular motions for an hour today since the days he started scratching. Bugs weren't the cause as it was Pritmor's state of mind. He was guilty of avoiding his pack and he knew it, his body reacted to knowing. The runt recalls his begging to the king to be loyal and reliable. It was spoken strongly, but the following sunrise felt like all the other mornings when he was a loner. He didn't know anyone or how to approach them. Having to stay within the territory was the only thing that was new to his life.

Therefore, he hid and went silently surving without a peep from his muzzle. His skin, however, was shouting and forced Pritmor to tip toe out into visibilty. He tries at a tiny bark to give up his postion of hiding. His dried throat yammers on softly.

Heartha heard the tiny bark, having been nearby. First it was the male scent that led her on her path. She did not recognise. To get a better standing in the pack, she had to know everyone. And by know, she had to at least have met them and traded names. She was social, most of the time. And when she was to find this wolf, she would get to know them. Whether they wanted or not. If not, then she might end up talking to herself in front of them.

Pritmor goggled at the incoming wolf, unsure if she saw him yet. Assuming she heard him though, he  squeaked. "Hello" His ears flattened to his tail and his paws proceeded forward around a thicket.

Heartha saw the male just as they spoke. Well, rather squeaked. She only heard male pups squeak, and that was when they were very young. "Um, hello. I'm Heartha. And you are?" She didn't catch onto the fact this wolf might be shy, or something along those lines.

He fidgeted, rocking on his joints. "I'm Pritmor." Eyes can reflect brilliance or a warm glow; his grey, unreflective eyes harbored little information about himself. "Can you help me? I need a place to start....to start helping."

Heartha nodded. The request was simple enough. "To start helping? Well sure, I can help you on that. What are you good at?" She assumed Pritmor meant getting a trade, to help the pack in his own way. How she was trying to help was by learning things in the medical sense and when pups were to come, if ever, she would help care.

"I am good at rationing scraps of meat and catching jumping insects. Can any of those be talents?" Pritmor lies down, twitching his nose. "What is everyone in the pack good at?"

Heartha thought to herself. The closest thing to his skills listed would be hunter. But maybe he would need work. Something she could try, but she wasn't too good at hunting herself with her being more of a pacifist. "Hunter seems like it would work. But you may need help getting to bigger game."

"I myself am aiming to be caretaker, whenever pups come." She wasn't too knowledgeable on what else others were doing. But she assumed Charley and Ayla would be the ones to help. Perhaps Ayla first. "Go find Ayla. She might help you more than I can. Or just howl for her. I'm sure she won't mind."

"Caretaker, that's a hard but rewarding job." He smiled, trying to picture this friendly she-wolf with yipping minatures at her tail and climbing her legs. "Would you howl for me? She probably wouldn't recognize my tune." Urgency jumped to the next stage in his brain's chemicals. To keep it down, he reasons hunter is not the final say. He had to stop freaking out, at least not in front of Ayla when she comes.

Heartha nodded, smiling lightly yet her tail stilled. The reward of being her line of caretaker was looking after pups. Yet just thinking about her own pups, it saddened her a bit. "It is. You get to look after the next generation. And it's easier when you've had your own."

Heartha lifted her muzzle to the sky and let loose a howl for @Ayla. Whether she would answer or not was her choice, though she made sure the howl did not sound a 'friendly chat' kind of howl, but rather a 'need your help' kind.