Redhawk Caldera Picture if you will

And now, after poking around there's like 5 wolves trying to join?  Have fun figuring out who gets in. :P I know wasn't the first two to post an actual joining thread, AND Tit's returning, so if it's 2late4Qui, I'm ok with that (but he's not, rip).

He'd wanted to go fishing.  The water of the lake had been icy but not yet totally frozen.  The few places where crust had formed it would barely carry a bird.  Speaking of birds, there had been one that had really driven Quixote up the wall the past few days.  The occasional snow seemed to make the geese more ornery too, and as Quixote failed a fishing trip yet again, they'd even charged him once he reached shore.  Too dumbfounded to properly take advantage of this, the acid-eyed wolf actually retreated from the overstuffed puffball.  What had transpired since had mostly been a lot of watching and waiting for the perfect moment.  That encounter had put the bird on Quixote's hit list, and since winter wasn't arriving any slower, if that stupid featherbrain could serve a dual purpose, he was all for it.

Patience had been rewarded.  He'd then have to drag the awkward, wingy beast through the spiked trails, its primaries grabbing everything it could on the way.  It would have been a lot easier had he gone to the lake to the west, but the one to the north was the one he was familiar with.  His internal dialog was a colorful selection of swears, occasionally interspersed with the word "goose," which continued long after he unhooked a giant webbed foot from the last grabby bush that would stand in his way.  One thing was for sure, if he wasn't granted entry, this stupid bird had his name on it... He'd just have to make sure to word himself well enough that it wasn't promised until it was clear.  Screw this stupid bird and its big wings and its feathers and everything.  For a Canada goose, it was a fairly large bird, still nice and plump from the feasts of the greener months.  Hopefully it would appease.  After the trouble he was having with a bird, he imagined how awful dragging along anything larger would be -- especially a deer from Neverwinter Forest, where he'd been staying...  He'd spend at least three days just hauling the damn thing.  Fresh meat seemed like a better gift.

He went over everything Towhee had said to him as he paused at the borders, unceremoniously dropping the bird at his feet.  It sprawled everywhere.  Appearances.  He nudged the bird over onto its side, tucking its wings in a bit so it perhaps didn't visually reek of the hatred he had for it.  He shook out his fur, looking for any debris.  Seemed presentable.  At last he raised his head and howled, requesting @Elwood and/or @Finley at the particular patch of border he'd chosen to appear in front of this day.  Someone else could always appear first, but eh.  He'd find out who heard him soon enough.  Upon lowering his head he also made a note...  Was that Colt he smelled this time?  It had been long enough he wasn't entirely sure but it did seem rather like that was maybe him.  He'd have to ask, but for now all Quixote could do was take a seat and wait, ears pricked forward for the first sign of someone approaching.