Duck Lake dirty little secret

Ever since joining Ursus, Taylor had gotten himself into the habit of collecting scars.
These were different, though— these scars he'd got from his own actions and his own volition. It felt good to not be powerless under a massive gloved hand and a microscope lens. It felt good to know that his brother wasn't there to test the newest experiment of the day on him.
He's still sore and bruised from his last fight, but has cleaned himself up since then. Only his torn ear displayed any remnant of violence. Still, his ear maintained a dead radio silence. 
The sun was just setting when he came across the lake. He wasn't alone. He hangs back along the trees, unsure and shy. Spring was here, and the earliest ducks were scattered around the lakeshore, though they were beginning to edge away at the presence of two wolves.