Redhawk Caldera Indy, the torch is going out!

Located along the rocky area where Amon was buried. Anyone welcome!

The early days of spring had blossomed around the caldera, and the snow had begun making its departure. There were patches of land which retained quite a bit of moisture because of the melt, and it seemed as if Dove had found most of them through trial and error, despite wanting to keep herself clean. Her limbs were coated with all manner of grime now - streaked with mud, which gave her pale paws a sickly green, mossy appearance - and her mood soured with each dip in to the muck. In an effort to avoid all of this nastiness, she decided to seek higher ground; it made the most sense. If any water remained upon the cliffs then it would roll down the slopes, right? Or something?

So she busied herself with that task. Finding first an animal trail laced with various scents, and those kept her mind occupied (ie: off of the chill of her extremeties and the gross feeling of being... well.. gross) until she came upon a crop of strange little rocks. They weren't all little, and they were really just rocks, but... They were arranged, which was the strange part. With a crease in her expression Dove began to investigate.

She nosed at some of the smaller debris, but could smell nothing of interest. And then she turned to inspect another segment - and then another - and even attempted to climb atop the pile. Mindlessly she kicked at one of the stones which sat in her path, and as it rolled out of the way, so did a myriad of others; catching her own feet and making her stumble back. When the rocks settled, a half-rotted face grinned out at her.

Which prompted an Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom scream to rip out of her.

On the heels of his last rendevous with Peregrine where the Alpha informed him of the state of his hide should he father any bastard pups, Jaws had decided to seek Dove again. Mostly, because he was curious to know if she knew if she was pregnant yet or not, certainly not because he welcomed speaking to her again after their last tense encounter. No doubt, she would have more brazen words and attitude for him again this time and the coywolf almost turned back to his den at thought of it. He really, truly, did not care for conflict of any description.

Picking up her trail, Jaws tracked in the manner of a bloodhound, with his nose hovering just above the surface of the ground. He picked his head up occasionally to scent the air around him, but the breeze was against his back and did little to aid his search. Fortunately, a piercing scream helped him to zero in on her quicker, and the coywolf responded by hastening his pace to a run, not knowing if his packmate was in trouble. It did cross his self-preserving mind that it might be better to leave her alone in hope she disappear and never return, but that spark was extinguished by his packwolf instincts, which were becoming more profound.

Jaws skidded to a stop just behind Dove, finding her standing unharmed but dirty, staring down at a pile of rocks. "What are you yelling for?" he asked as he stepped around her, furrowing his brows as his bi-colored gaze came to rest on the macabre portrait in the stone. "I see. Well it's dead. It's not going to bite you."

It shouldn't have surprised her that such a noise would bring about immediate response, but it did. Dove was staring wide-eyed down at the pile of stones, feeling quite sick to her stomach, when Jaws arrived. She couldn't pull her eyes off of the patch of yellow bone with the exposed teeth; there was still some flesh clinging to it, likely because of the low temperatures in winter. It didn't smell, but Dove felt a creeping sensation up her snout which made her scrunch her face and scowl.

When Jaws spoke, Dove was at a loss. She moved her head as if to glance at him - or to speak - but could not move her eyes from the remains.

"But... But its dead." The girl half whispered, as if speaking louder would awaken it from an unholy slumber. Yes dear, it IS dead, he just said that. "There is a dead body right there. Dead. Not alive." Her tail swept the ground, threatening to tuck neatly between her legs, but Dove finally pulled herself away from the strange sight and focused (rather forcibly on her part) upon Jaws.

"Who is it?" But why would he know that, he was practically new. This body looked like it had been placed here during winter. "How long - how long do you think it's been here? Oh god, who killed it?" What if there was a murderer among them?! Fox wouldn't be safe - the kids - herself. Her eyes went wide again, and she shivered, suddenly inconsolable.

"You're so dramatic," Jaws said simply as he shook his head. Dove's emotional state was the antithesis to his calm and collected rationale. Jaws saw the scene for what it was: a body that had been buried beneath some rocks. It did not spark any thought in his head other than someone had died and someone else had buried it. He was not worried about a murderer, was not worried about the decomposing flesh itself. The coywolf could be sensitive the wolf was not suffering - it was returning to the earth from whence it came. It was a natural process.

As Jaws stepped past from Dove he let his tail graze her shoulder, a very small gesture intended to calm his packmate. Working with his muzzle and paws, he respectfully replaced the disturbed stone and covered the exposed face. "There is no need to be afraid of bodies," Jaws commented as he turned to face Dove again, finished his task. "It doesn't matter how long it's been here, and who says it was killed and did not simply die here?" He flicked his tail. That was his logic in a nutshell.