Swiftcurrent Creek street fighter

With more freedom somehow came more responsibility.

Campaign not only had to look out for himself, he had to find a way to make himself useful to the pack. He wasn’t particularly adept at hunting, but he did find that he quite liked patrolling. It kept his muscles busy, and his mind busier.

He found entertainment in recognizing the smells of his packmates and studying the comings and goings of those scents. He liked imagining their lives in and out of the territory, even if he wasn’t all that interested in the reality of their situations. Unfortunately, he had recently come to the conclusion that the truth was often much more mundane than what he pictured in his head.

The boy skirted the borderline now, checking eagerly for scents both familiar and foreign.

Leonore knew well that she was rapidly approaching an age of new responsibilities which she could not so easily dodge. Getting her worrywart elders off her back would certainly be nice, but she was not looking forward to her lack of free time.

With Shark missing, Saturin ill, and Caliste of little interest to her Leonore spent most of her time playing alone or looking for Violet. Though of course, it was hard to resist harrasing her packmates when given the chance.

A boy not much older than her walked the border. He smelt of Swiftcurrent unlike the last wolf she had met here, settling her nerves.

The barracuda watched him from beneath the bushes, considering her next actions; nip and run? Pounce? Speak? She frowned, unable to decide. It was hard to tell if he was the type to still run to his mother. She was not much of a sleuth, of course, her rustling not doing much to hide her presence.

Campaign started at the shuddering of stiff branches and crinkling winter leaves. He whirled to face the sound, but could not immediately suss out who was beneath the bushes. He immediately assumed it was his troublesome sister; if it was one of his brothers, they would have pounced on him already.

I know it's you, Hare, the boy huffed. Stop tryin' to scare me, or I'll tatter your ears.

At his words, her silver head popped out of the bushes. Hare? She furrows a brow. I'm no hare. What a silly thing to say! Though of course, she did not know that he was speaking of a sibling.

What are you doing? She was quick to drift from the initial topic, far more interested in the activities of the other. She was usually discouraged to wander so far, was it not the same for him?

A silver-and-white crown bobbed from beneath the branches. His gaze met a pair of unfamiliar sunshine eyes.

Campaign's head reared back in surprise. This wasn't Harrier.

S-Sorry! I thought you were— He shook his head. The boy tried to right himself, stand a little taller, look a little more sure of himself. I'm patrolling, he answered, announcing it as if it were his official duty. He even gave a succinct nod of his head as if that meant anything.

What're you doing? Training to become a spy? He observed her with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. He'd never met a girl before. His sister certainly didn't count.