Ghost in the swamp

Finish up within the next post or two?

Kove was, of course, in no hurry to find the source of the noise. The so called 'ghost' had not been of bother to him, as he'd hardly ever gone into the swamps, and he never slept close to them. So, while he did trail after where it'd disappeared at, his legs moved at an even, moderate pace. He was not slow, but not moving quickly, either. He'd already assumed it to be a bird of sorts, and they couldn't really do anything about it unless they killed it—which he was all for, if they could even catch the thing. Birds had wings, after all, leaving the wolves at a disadvantage.

His suspicions had been confirmed the second he reached the spot and saw the bird shoot up onto a branch above. It was pale as ever with red eyes, making him realize it had to be an albino. Why it insisted on making so much noise, he didn't know. Maybe it was because of whatever type of bird it was, or maybe it was trying to call for a mate that would never come. Whatever the case, the mystery had been solved. "Happy you found your 'ghost'?" the Inuit inquired, his copper gaze looking to the bird in the tree. "What do you plan to do now? Climb the tree and eat it?" It was a joke, of course, as he knew wolves could not climb trees. He did wonder what the silver-eyed man had planned, though. Maybe it was to just walk away, or maybe he wanted to try and wait the bird out. Kove probably wouldn't stick around for the latter.