Moonspear wilding like that coyote

It was probably a good sign that the resident border patrol hadn't seen anything—the substance they both sought at that very moment were two different things entirely. Besides, noisy borders seemed an annoying concept. But winter was only beginning it's wind up pitch for a lengthy nine inning stretch, and the likelihood those quiet borders would eventually have strung out vagrants stood to rise. Or at least that was the thought that came to Dirge, who retained such notions as he swept to the side to let said border patrol come to him with an agreeable sway of his tail. It was far easier to go back the way he had come and make the rounds that way. That and fresh eyes never hurt anything either.

"Well, I'm hoping to find sight or catch wind of some larger game," he spoke, clarifing what his interests were. "And the bigger the better. Wouldn't hurt to make a good impression and all. Quiet borders could favor us, no extra competition," and such was concluded with a flash of a cheeky, toothy smile. Dirge knew he could play fetch and retrieve on hares and stoats until spring thaw but that was... boring. Variety was the spice of life! And it wasn't just the variety he sought either, it was ever earning and keeping his place that he wanted. Even if it was for a short span, he felt it necessity to be done. It was the only angle he knew so far and Dirge was not yet brazen enough to go about it in leisure yet.