Duck Lake precious and fragile things

She had slid down into a laying posture, and Dovev felt his muscles relax as she posed no threat. And her words were further calming, causing his eyes to soften from their usual hard chips of ice. The coal-cloaked creature would be joining the ranks of Swiftcurrent. Excellent. The pack would be in need of able bodies for the coming of winter, where the snow would demand group hunts to chase down elk and moose. The thought of massive winter hunts set his scruff hairs prickling in anticipation. The male was about to respond when the stranger had caught wind of the group of crows eerily watching them. She bolted past, a streak of night against the deep green grass as she launched herself at the flock. Although their wings had lifted them out of reach, several feathers drifted down about her frame as she sat down again. He pivoted and trailed after her, ears perked.
Bringers of death, he observed mildly, looking up to watch the group sail across Duck Lake. She had scared them off appropriately, no doubt they would think twice before coming back. But she didn't seem to take pride in her actions, and Dovev walked up to closer study her expressive face. I'm Dovev, he responded to her former question, hoping that would lift her chin in the cool autumn air.