Overture Downs your mother's throat clicks and my spirit swims right to the hook

Through the bulrushes cut a pair of piqued black ears, like twin fins sailing sleek over the sea, only there was no shark in these waters. He did his very best to minimize the sloshing of his legs as he waded through the shallows, eyes fixed on a pale shape in the distance, but some things were simply beyond accomplishment. Wolves were not stealthy creatures by nature, and water was a damning medium. Even a personal proclivity for sneaking could not surmount that.

Aventus was undeterred by this reality. No doubt the soft white she-wolf reclining there would hear him coming, but he dropped low his neck and veritably disappeared into the cattails. Just a trick of the wind, rippling through the reeds. At least, that was what he hoped for. Aventus was good, but not infallible. He just wanted a peek at her, maybe some time to study what she was doing just lying there. Standard stuff.

A shrill keening made him pause, lifting nose and ears in affront. Ever-so-slowly, he poked his head from the reeds and spotted the source: a pathetic looking bird, clearly injured, just out of reach of the she-wolf. Something familiar about her, but he didn't take the time just then to ponder it. Phaedra had much better control over herself than he did, for the sight of that sad little bird was a sucker punch right to his instincts, with a distinct lack of sympathy for her plight. Well, if Phaedra wasn't gonna put it out of its misery, he'd help himself.

Aventus broke from cover with a ghost-like grace, but the accompanying splash was more bull-like than anything as he charged across the distance, right past Phaedra, seized the miming bird by the dangling wing, and swung his head in a merciless arc meant to crack all her little birdie bones against the pebbles.