Stavanger Bay And turning all against the one is an art that's hard to teach

There were very few things Brig could hunt without worry. Most animals, large and small, required too much running to be worth it when his body had no interest in cooling him down -- land-based prey was out of the question. He could catch fish, scavenge sea-life in the tidepools, and while Adéwalé wasn't bad at that either what the jackdaw could do very well was steal eggs.

Luckily for them, there was plenty of opportunity to do just that.

They had been out since much earlier in the day. Brig tried not to get himself injured, but he could do a few snaps at birds to get them chasing after him, swooping down -- the grazes stayed minor as long as he wasn't too bold and the distraction was enough for Adéwalé to sneak egg after egg from the nests. Which was where being in a pack made things somewhat less fun, because instead of eating all of them he had to set a few aside; he supposed, in fairness, he'd been eating quite well since. 

They'd taken a short break for Adéwalé to have a couple too, and now they were back; there were six or seven buried in the sand that Brig had marked with a little pile of stones so he'd be able to find it later, and they moved in a quick arc along the beach, scaling the dunes to draw up onto the cliffs. There would be more nests up here, if Brig knew anything about seashore. Which he did.

It was something of a surprise to see the birds already in such a fuss, though.

Brig paused, glancing over the grass and melted snow with his good eye, and looked up to where Adéwalé had been circling lazily in midair. A quick bark drew the bird back, the jackdaw swooping down in a flutter of feathers to land neatly on Brig's shoulder.

"See anythin'?" Brig asked. Eugh. The speech patterns really were rubbing off on him, weren't they?

Adéwalé treated him to a bit of a look that confirmed it, and gestured with his beak off along the edge of the cliff. "Yes. Another hunter. Looks to be one from that fight."

Brig huffed, but started walking. He hoped it wasn't the one who'd lost; way she'd snapped at him when she left, Brig didn't have much hope of her being the type he'd get along with, or who'd get along with him. He picked his way carefully, making sure not to step on anything that looked sharp, and eventually caught a glimpse of the auburn wolf.

Not that one, then. He didn't actually know what rank anyone was really supposed to be, let alone anyone but Smokestep's name, so he'd just have to hope no deference was required. "Hello," he offered instead as he drew closer, keeping an eye on her reaction almost purely out of habit.