Duck Lake in the belly of the beast

SORRY sorry, I swear it's not personal - she's just a prideful twerp who doesn't recover from perceived offenses. Haha.

Menta breathed evenly, waiting for his response. He seemed to hesitate, to weigh his choices out, and the cream wolf worked hard to stifle a quiet growl. The clear choice was accept the gift - which in her mind was overly generous - or violence. A few dragged seconds passed and it seemed he made the right choice, Menta giving no acknowledgement at his pitiful "thank you" while her eyes watched him carefully as he tore at the head.

Her own portion was mostly gone, and everything she felt of value vanished quickly with only a couple more bites - perhaps he could play with the lingering bone fat when she left, but her belly was full. Jagoda, he said his name was, and it was filed away in her brain automatically. Menta had the natural talent for remembering a lot of details, and she hoped that didn't push anything actually useful out.

He smelled nothing like a pack, and she knew that if he didn't soon he would smell like no living wolf at all - but this was no pack land, and she would offer no information or invitation to follow her home even if she had the ability to make that call. You should be more careful in the future, Jagoda, Menta advised in perhaps not the most kind tone. A couple of scolding ducks seemed to echo her for emphasis from the gathering in the lake behind her. Quack, quack.

It seemed that Ryūjin called her home now, her belly full and mind unable to relax with both the pestering background noise and the bigger nuisance in front of her. But the cream wolf refused to rush, her legs moving into a slow and steady walk away from the duck bones and alongside the natural curves of the lake. The gradually increasing distance between them was more for his benefit than for hers.