Totoka River we grew under a bad sun

caw gives another wide yawn, tongue lolling from between the curve of his stained teeth. he has not quite woken yet; he is not normally one to wake so early, either, and it is only the newness of this place that spurs him. eventually he will find a place to claim – eventually he will find wolves he will possess just the same. he must find them first.
 
he wanders aimlessly along the bank for a while, sniffing at the air as he draws steadily closer to the borders he remembers. avis launches from his back to circle in the air like a vulture, tracking its predator, waiting for the dead to show themselves.
 
he does not find carrion, nor fresh prey. not first. what he does find is a scent, faintly reminiscent of yesterday’s borders, and he lifts his muzzle a fraction, his steps slowing as his ears cup forward for noise. what they draw is only the faint rush of water, though, and it is a few steps more before he looks down the bank and sees the exact source.
 
the woman at the river’s edge is clearly injured. her pale fur is broken up by a handful of healing wounds, and there are bare patches where fur should be, and the curiosity bubbles faintly beneath the calm. perhaps she has been attacked by the wolves that live there – perhaps they will prove worth his time after all.
 
she does not look like she herself will be of much interest, but he has been proven wrong before.
 
he trots forward in a long-legged lope, notes the flick of her eyes, but it does not stop him, not even when avis swoops down to perch on his shoulder, her talons digging in perhaps harder than they should. caw only grins, tail wagging once as it lifts from its resting place at his hind legs.
 
“what happened to you?” he asks, not stopping as he draws near and certainly into her personal space, taking in the injuries and burns up close.