Moonspear cool for cats

Weather: 17°F, mostly cloudy.

The hunt would happen soon, Dune was certain of that. For now, he wanted to take a day to rest and relax, so he had done just that. He'd taken up residence at the rendezvous site, chillaxin' the day away and getting plenty of Z's in before the big hunt tomorrow. He still wasn't sure why everybody seemed so concerned about his accessory, but he figured it would pass once they realized it wasn't doing anything bad. If anything, Dune thought it had done him good. Although he was disappointed that several members of the pack had left, it also gave him a chance to rise in the ranks. There were now fewer rungs in the ladder to climb.

Presently, Dune lay on his side, enjoying the cloudy afternoon day, occasionally drifting in and out of sleep. Tomorrow, he planned on gathering up the wolves who had shown interest and taking them to the caribou he had tracked down two days prior.

Gannet was still a bit withdrawn and a little bummed, focusing most on simply exercising and trying to get to the point of running. Last time he'd tried it had gone terribly and set him back a bit, though he now only had a few nicely healing scabs to show for it. So he continued walking, and now thought himself quite ready to try jogging. He spared a moment to regret that Rannoch was gone; he had provided a good shoulder to lean on. But he would do with what he had.

Slowly he began to pick up his pace, settling into a lopsided trot. It did not feel, to his pleasure, too much more awkward than running. But he took care not to take it too fast. He was about ready for a break when he spotted Dune, and he slowed down somewhat clumsily. He gave a short, quiet bark to let Dune know he was there, and walked up, eyeing the collar curiously as he did so. So it was still there.

The first half of my previous post makes no sense now, lol. WHATEVER.

Also "But he would do with what he had." Wow rude.

Gannet approached just as Dune was drifting out of one of his many naps, and Dune propped himself up on his elbows for a better look. With his ears slicked back and his tail thumping on the ground, he greeted the other male with a friendly yip, followed by a welcoming whine. Dune was well-aware that Gannet was low on the totem pole, but that didn't make him any less a part of the pack. He was just as important as Charon and Amekaze in Dune's eyes.

"Leg better?" he asked, a concerned look washing over his face when he saw the mangled-looking limb. At least his other injuries seemed to be healing quickly. Apparently Dune had not completely destroyed Gannet's chances at a speedy recovery.

Dune greeted him with nothing but friendly openness and a query about his leg, both of which were more than ok with Gannet (he was getting rather used to the latter; it seemed to be the only conversation he had these days). "A little," he said, hopping a bit experimentally as he did so. The leg held his weight well now, though he still did not sprint. As their lead female had so aptly put it, balance was key now.

"Have you hunted?" He asked, pointing to the upper reaches. There was a tinge of longing to his tone as he did; ever since his conversation with Amekaze, he'd been eager to test the mountain's reaches. He wondered if Dune had and if so, how it had gone.

Although Dune had met everybody in Moonspear, he felt closest to Gannet. The two had hit it off immediately, and after helping him after he'd taken the tumble down the slopes, Dune felt like they had something there. That's right kids, a bromance is blooming right before your very eyes. :flower emoji: Dune was happy to count Gannet as one of his first friends here. Now that Wraen was gone, he wasn't even sure he could classify her as a friend. In fact, he was not sure if their paths would ever cross again, and that was sad to think about, so he chose not to dwell on it any longer.

Gannet asked if he had hunted, gesturing to the upper reaches of the mountain, and Dune worked on putting a sentence together to explain what had happened when he and Charon had gone up there a few days back. "Tried, but too dangerous. Mountain goat." That led him to realize that maybe Gannet had never hunted up there, which was odd because Dune had assumed Gannet had lived here his whole life. "You live here always?" he asked.

Ah. He imagined that had to happen often, with all the rocks and drops involved. Must have been a real bummer. He nodded sympathetically, then proceeded to shake his head to the next question. He had thought everyone knew that story.

Now it was his turn to attempt an explanation. "My brother came," he began, trying to find the important highlights. "They attacked. Tried to stop them, and now I'm here." He indicated his leg, then stopped, pleased with his minimal telling. He wondered what Dune would make of it.

Dune listened as Gannet explained that he had not always been here. Somebody had attacked his brother? And somehow Gannet had ended up part of the pack? The Eta felt like he was missing a big chunk of history, so he dove in further, trying to drag out some more answers for his own understanding. "Who attack brother?" he asked. Perhaps Gannet's brother was an asshole who went looking for trouble... but if he was anything like Gannet, that didn't seem likely.

It never dawned on Dune that it was Moonspear that might have attacked the brother. They had been such a welcoming bunch to him, even if Charon had been a bit wary in the beginning. Now that Dune was settled in, he felt quite comfortable here. Aside from Dirge, who seemed to give him sideways glances at every turn, the pack had widely accepted him as one of their own.

Oh. He had thought it obvious? But then he remembered that the reason he was telling the story was because Dune in fact hadn't heard it. He supposed it might be confusing.

"Hydra and others," he said, remembering the day. "He was on the borders." Gannet frowned, explaining why, but also feeling the need to explain his own intervention. To a point. "But he was pack." And a brother to boot. While Gannet did not wish him ill and was glad to think him still alive out there, he supposed he wouldn't intercede now though.

"Now we're pack," he said with a delighted smile, hoping that was enough for Dune to get the gist.

Dune still felt he was lacking information. Why would Gannet's brother trespass? That was the only reason he could think of for attacking somebody. And why had they not stopped his brother? Maybe his brother had been killed. That was not something Dune wished to bring up, so he let the subject rest. As curious as he was about Gannet's life, he did not wish to push the matter further.

It was the last sentence that made it easy to change the subject to happier things. "Now we pack," he echoed, tail wagging and ears splayed on his head. "Gannet friend," he added, testing the word on somebody he considered a friend, anyway. He had a notion the feeling was mutual, after all, but hearing it out loud was another thing entirely.

Friend. So far he'd only heard Hydra use that word, and while he had felt it with Dune for a while, there was indeed something cool about hearing the word out loud. "Friend." He affirmed, nodding and smiling happily.

Then, because he felt the moment fitting, he nipped at Dune's ear, not connecting but close enough to get the idea across. After he dropped into a play bow, wondering if his now confirmed friend would be up to a short playful spar.

Hearing the word repeated back released any doubts he might have had. Gannet invited him to play (spar was much too harsh a word for Dune's antics), and the white wolf was happy to oblige. He returned the nip with one of his own, a bark forced from his lungs and his tail waving high behind him. His feet bounced this way and that as he spun around for a full three-sixty, landing with a thump in front of Gannet.

Dune was not sure how sturdy his leg was just yet, but since Gannet had incited the play session, he figured it couldn't be that awful. Still, he was gentle, letting his friend(!) decide the amount of physical contact he wanted to endure.

The fact that Dune held back did not bother Gannet one bit... he himself had always been more of an enthusiastic wrestler than a rough one, so his version of play was more buffs, barks, and perhaps the occasional nip. He didn't try to wrestle officially yet; he wasn't dumb enough to want to test his leg in that situation quite so soon. But it was tempting. Maybe when he had tried doing some jumping he would be ready.

He played as long as Dune wanted, then sat, panting but grinning, delighted in the presence and thrill of a new friend (!!)

possibly a good fade point unless you want to continue!