Duck Lake And so the ducks fly

So, this loner had found some excitement in getting himself soaked while chasing those idiotic creatures, known as ducks, about the usually placid lake. Surely they were mocking him now, with their abrasive quacks as they floated in an armada on the waves. Duck meat was delightful, but Dovev was no wolf to go splashing into water after them. He was more of a nest-raider.

The tundra wolf didn't really care whether or not the lone wolf was having fun traipsing in between pack borders.
I think my pack enjoys that lake a little more than you did, Dovev said with a smirk, but his eyes were beginning to cool. This loner had a certain way of taking things for granted. Even though the ducks were free prey, Dovev did not share this male's preferences for his outlook on life.

Navigating down the grassy slope, Dovev crept down the bank to the pebbly shore, growing closer. This wolf was facing west, after all, and all recollections of the Creek wolf thinking this stranger was no threat were beginning to fade. He didn't want him running around and causing trouble like he had just done to Duck Lake.