Whitebark Stream mulberry

Ridgeback had to wonder if the caribou had simply accepted their relationship with the wolves. At first, he'd thought it more parasitic than anything- the wolves followed the caribou, preying on they weak, old, and wounded, picking away at their numbers and following them without respite. He realized as time went on that they were helping to keep a balance; the strong would survive. The wolves killed the weak, those who might be more susceptible to disease, those that might spread illness among the herd. 

But to live in fear, constantly hunted? No. Even if the relationship was mutually beneficial, he'd still choose to be on the predatory side, every time. 

If he watched them for too long, he became anxious. Restraint was difficult- and while he knew that he should rest, and that he could not simply chase the damn animals around all the time, his instincts were strong, and urged him to chase chase chase! all the time. His jaws chattered as he watched the animals, calm as they were. 

For being the predatory creature, he was vastly more visibly anxious. 

He'd been staring for- well, he wasn't sure for how long- when he decided he should move. His joints crackled as he lifted himself from his crouch, an indication that he'd been prone for too long, though he became supple easily, as he snaked his way along the outskirts of the herd. 

He thought to track down Ice Diver, pester her for a bit of attention, when he spotted one of their newest members, diligently watching the herd. She was Sun Eater's wife, brought home from Swiftcurrent Creek- and while he had been a part of her liberation, he had spent little time with her. Something about her being Sun Eater's wife made him think he should not seek her attention, lest the chieftan entertain suspicions. Still- he was a social creature, and a curious one to boot. He approached quietly, a wave in his tail asking if she might tolerate his company for the time being.