Swiftcurrent Creek turquoise

His gaze followed the direction of her paw—eyes landing upon the fish she had been working on when he had first interrupted her. He disliked the idea of accepting her food—he wanted to be a provider… not provided for. And yet most of the food caught was taken straight to Arlette—would continue to be so, for now she was nursing four larger pups, given the beastly size of their father.

With a quiet inclination of his muzzle, he swept down to his haunches, studying the fish before looking to her. “Why the leaves?”

Just one puzzle piece in the hundreds this she-wolf presented to him—and yet he felt it an easy question… and perhaps a bit of insight to the life and culture she had allegedly left behind.