Blacktail Deer Plateau [j] the night's watch

A black ear twitched when Crete's stomach answered for him with a soft rumble. Despite the noise, his brother's expression stopped him sort; it told him that he would take care of it himself later. Peregrine shrugged and rejoined his brother without trying to argue the point. They were nearly three years old and Peregrine knew Crete could fend for himself, particularly in that department. After all, his lack of vocal chords hardly impaired his ability to hunt. And coddling wasn't exactly a trait the Redleaf-DiSarinno wolves shared, either (though Peregrine admittedly coddled Osprey sometimes, much to her savage annoyance).

"Well," he said as he settled on his haunches next to his litter mate, "I'd say we could shoot the shit while we wait but seeing as you can't talk and all..." Peregrine gave Crete a sly sideways smirk. "I really hope Osprey shows up," he murmured aloud in the next instant, his blue-green eyes drifting watchfully to the plateau again. "Hawkeye too..." he quipped a bit impatiently, musing quietly about the similarity in the two she-wolves' names.