Totoka River "he waits for the wind to carry him home."

Clarence enjoyed the warmth of the spring sunlight as he lay; he closed his eyes to bask in it and effectively broke his stare with the other. He could feel the grizzled creature's eyes upon him but did not care, as was evidenced by the lazy posture of his slouching body along the bank. When they spoke, his limp ears trembled and he popped open one eye to again regard the man.

Mostly, said the beareded one cryptically, and left it at that. Clarence had never wondered about his own origins nor worried about the superficial differences others noted between himself and a pure-blood; he had four legs, a tail, a set of sharp teeth, and that was enough. Most of the time the heavy-set man would outweigh and outmatch a wolf because of his particular mixture of bloodlines — but he was not the type to display wonton aggression, and had not experienced much in the ways of the wolf, even after his many months of life.

The river coursed its way beneath him, filling the quiet lull in the coversation with a calming staccato. He clears his throat and mutters, hungry?