Swiftcurrent Creek A tisket a tasket

His ears flickered forward, uncertain if he had heard a gentle tsk from the elderly male or not. Given the fact the swarthy wolf was close to land she called home, he felt himself bristle, though made no move to challenge it -- not yet. "I am," he determined, his tone becoming roughly dry as sarcasm ebbed in to his tone. "We have a litter of pups who cannot feed themselves and tasks within the pack don't get complete by mulling around the pack borders in idle chat," he rumbled again, though his voice holding more bemusement now as the elder continued to lecture him.

Despite this, the Frostfur did not make a point to hurry the ebony male along -- not yet. His question was posed, and a snort escaped Scimitar at that very moment. What did he want to complete before death? "Like what? Having pups of my own?" There was a small pause as he reflected the conversation from him -- Scim had never been one to offer the depths of his soul to a wolf he had only met half a second ago. "If you're dying, wouldn't you want to do so surrounded by the ones you love?" Unless, of course, he was a complete quack and was simply wandering without aim.