The man did not linger long in one place. He was moving again, trailing along the wet stones and basking in the damp scent that the rain provided them. His body passed by the mound he had built for Lethe - still remarkably ursine in shape, but a bit weathered by time. Njal reminded himself to return at another time, when the earth was far less wet, and clean it up. He looked across the rugged, abstract figure of the bear's face for a moment longer, before turning and continuing along the river. The wolf trekked along for a handful of minutes; the time passing slowly with the dull sounds of rainfall around him. The peace was broken by a flurry of movement in the river, though. A spasm of splashing and sputtering.
Njal's head lifted, his attention locking upon the silhouette of a stranger in the water. At first the man bristled (or he would have, if the rain had not tempered his spine), but reconsidered. If someone was this far inland without an escort, they were probably one of the creek wolves. An ally. With a grunt he approached the boy, hearing him mumble something under his breath - and no doubt showing signs of frustration. "Hello," the Delta bellowed as he reached with his nose over the rocks, "Do you need any help?" It looked as if the other wolf was trying to fish - but his form was atrocious. What had he thought, that diving in to the water would earn him something to eat? The older man mentally chided the other, but said nothing to expose his inner thoughts.