Swiftcurrent Creek Get some gravel in your claws

More and more, Phoenix tried to find his legs among the Creek wolves. Patrolling alone felt unnatural to him, but it was a task that needed doing, and he needed dearly to come to terms with the fact that this pack simply didn't operate like the one he'd been born to. Even if he didn't necessarily like the job, the necessity of it certainly kept him busy; making him appear more useful than he felt, given his questionable success-rate for solo hunting. Being unable to fill caches meant he had to do the next best thing, begrudgingly or not.

This didn't mean that he wouldn't try to provide if the opportunity presented itself, as it did now in the form of a meandering rabbit. The future hot meal paused to drink from a melted rivulet slinking through the shrubs, and Phoenix stalked it carefully— trying not to shift a single pebble as he eeeeeeeked forward... He put his foot down wrong and the rabbit bolted, sending the wolf prematurely into a stuttering sprint.

But the chase was over well before it even began, and Phoenix, knowing better than to expend himself without tact, hung back with a defeated sigh. Back to pissing on the front lines.

For the first time in many months, Clock felt like he could truly relax. Being accepted into the Swiftcurrent pack had been a major success for him. Traveling all the way from the Tuktu Hinterlands with Chusi's group of wolves had been exhausting enough, and Clock had not exactly been the picture of health before they set off for the long journey. Living as a lone wolf in the Teekon Wilds for the whole winter had taken its toll on the young wolf. His body, which was already unusually lank with long stick-like legs, had become even thinner, giving him a truly emaciated appearance. He was filling out better now, but he was still visibly scraggly. He suspected he would have starved to death by fall if he hadn't found another group of wolves to band with. He had trusted that Chusi would lead himself and the others to somewhere he might be able to call home, and she had not let them down. Because of this, he was grateful, and relieved, and... happy.

Coming out from a cozy little sleeping den he had made at the base of a shrubby spruce, Clock was just in time to catch a glimpse of a rabbit darting past and into the said shrubs. Looking back to where the rabbit had come from, Clock saw a defeated-looking wolf standing off in the distance. He thought a moment, then approached the other at a trot, sniffing the air to make sure he caught the familiar undertones of the pack's scent. Yep, there it was.

"Hi, I'm Clock," he greeted with a friendly wag of his pale tail which was ticked with black and gray. He nodded back in the direction the rabbit had gone. "Looks like you lost your snack. Sorry to see that." He paused for the appropriate second or two, then said, "If you're up to it, the two of us could probably catch something much more substantial." He hoped the other wouldn't judge too harshly based on appearances. He knew he looked thin and pathetic, but he also knew he was particularly adept at hunting in a pack. He just needed a chance to prove himself. The two of them could easily take down a beaver.

Phoenix looked up as one of his packmates emerged then. It wasn't someone he'd met yet: long-legged with bony hips and a greyed cape.  He thought immediately that the male had seen his entire folly—not just the result of it—causing a sheepish tuck of his red-backed ears. The young wolf was eager to seem impressive, and he imagined now that he didn't seem anything of the sort. It was a huge annoyance to not be absolutely perfect at all times; it was something he'd have to learn to get over if ever wanted to be a kind, well-adjusted adult.

"Heeey," he greeted, shamefaced, but the happy little wiggle of his compatriot's peppered tail caused a swift lift in his spirits. Phoenix smiled and waved his own tail as the male introduced himself as Clock. "Well met, Clock. I'm Phoenix." He thought at first that maybe Clock hadn't noticed his missed quarry after all, but his hopes were dashed as quickly as they'd bubbled up, when the warm-eyed Creeker expressed his condolences for the failed pursuit.

Phoenix tried not to look crestfallen; but in the next beat, he was offered an opportunity to remake his first impression. A hunt— just the two of them! The brutish yearling could barely contain his excitement. "That'd be great, my friend," he beamed, copper eyes glinting as he made to set himself in a tall stance by Clock's side. "Know any good spots?"

Clock beamed radiantly at Phoenix's eager response. :Oh to be a yearling again,: he thought to himself in the dramatic way that only a fellow youth just experiencing the first twinges of soreness after a long day of activity could. Because, in truth, Clock was approaching only his third year of life; Hardly a wizened old wolf... although he felt like it after the long and arduous journey over the mountain ranges.

"Let's check down by shallow areas of the creek," he suggested as he reared back and batted playfully at Phoenix, magically forgetting the aching in his paws and front legs. He hadn't had much time to explore the whole of the pack's territory, so he wasn't sure yet what was out there. He took off at an easy run, checking over his shoulder to make sure the red ticked wolf was following. If they could catch something, they would definitely be seen as valuable to the pack.

Clock took them to the bank of the river and followed along the shore, scanning the waters for beaver dams as he moved along at a swift pace. His ears pricked foreward and his face brightened when he finally spotted a cluster of logs and sticks that made up a dam, but then his countenance fell when he noticed it was on the opposite side of the river as they were. He stopped and turned in a circle, thinking. "I've heard it's not safe to cross the river," he explained as his eyes roved across the still waters, "although it doesn't look very unsafe, does it?"

It was the first time in what felt like ages that Phoenix felt completely at ease. There had always been some air of anxiety in his earlier introductions— from meeting his half-sister for the first time, and feeling awkward and smitten around girls, down to trying to impress his new packmates— but this, with Clock, felt like a cakewalk. He nipped at the thin wolf's hip as he trounced off to take the lead, and made an about-face so that he might follow. His pace was decidedly slower, to compensate for his longer stride.

As the two arrived at a bottlenecked section of the creek, further choked by the addition of a farside dam, Phoenix gave pause when Clock turned around in an uncertain spin. Red ears pressed forward and he cocked his head slightly. "What? That's not true. Well... actually I mean, it's not safe all the time, like when the snow melts and the currents get too strong, but if you can swim and the water isn't like, a rapid or something, you can cross no problem!" He didn't consider the fact that he had at least twenty pounds on the other male, and didn't have to worry as much about being dragged off with his height.

"This one's real easy," he encouraged him, tail flapping like a windbourne flag. "And it's nice and slow too because the dam's got it all blocked up." Phoenix plunged into the bittercold shallows, and though he made an unpleasant noise and shook himself furiously to adjust to the temperature, he hoped his confidence would invite Clock further. 

Thanks for your patience during my absence! I adore Clock, btw.

No problem, nice to see you back! Looks like Phoenix and Clock will get along great :)

His gray ears rotated attentively in Phoenix's direction as the wolf explained about the nature of the river's current. Well, that certainly did make sense, and he was inclined to agree, but still - he had no intention of plunging straight into the river without knowing for sure. Even though he was not the most adept swimmer, Clock had swum through rivers before... albeit only ones that were well-known to be safe to pass through.

Before he could open his mouth to make some sort of protest/excuse, his new hunting companion saved him the embarrassment by jumping boldly into the cold, fresh water, demonstrating that the water was shallow enough in his area to stand. Clock wagged his tail eagerly and then jumped down into the water after the ruddy-colored wolf. He felt his breath leave him a single gasp at the knife-chill of the dark water, and he too found himself involuntarily shaking the freezing water from his head and nape. It came up past his shoulders, causing his head to go fully under when one of his forelegs would lose purchase on the slippery river rocks beneath him. After steadying himself and getting used to the pull of the river, his kohl-lined amber eyes rolled over to look at Phoenix. "L-l-l-lets go," he said, teeth chattering at the cold. He made for the far side of the creek, struggling to keep his head above the water as he went. As he neared the center of the river, the river bed beneath plunged a few more inches and Clock soon found that he was only able to scrape his nails across the tops of the river rocks. Taking a deep breath, he swam powerfully ahead, his forelegs splashing frantically in a cyclical doggy-paddle motion. He could feel a bit of a current pulling at him, but before it sucked him too far down stream, he made it safely to the other side and crawled out of the water, feeling the weight of it falling from his dense fur in sloughs. He briefly shook himself then spun back around to make sure Phoenix was getting out alright too.

A robust and tall— not to mention well-fed— Phoenix had an easier time with the watercourse than his pal Clock. His spine became submerged at some point, but he was otherwise powerful enough to walk the entire way. Watching his peppered companion struggle to keep his head above water, however, was a sobering experience for the yearling. He grew anxious as he realized that if something happened to him by his influence that he'd never forgive himself, but he managed to keep his whines to himself, just in time to see his packmate gain swift purchase with all four feet and pull himself from the shallows at a bounding clip.

Phoenix dragged himself behind, still standing ankle-deep when he started to shake the excess water from his coat. "I don't know how fish can stand it," he chattered, a little riled up from the cold and looking more porcupine than wolf from the way his fur was all spiked out. He pranced forward, sniffing Clock up and down. "Did you make it in one piece?" he asked a little playfully.

"Sure did!" he responds brightly as the other looks him over. Now that he was out of the water, his earlier anxiety was soothed, although he realized they would have to cross it again on their way back. He lifted a paw and batted playfully at Phoenix's shoulder. "Now, how about that beaver?". His ears tipped back and a coy look shone in his amber eyes. He glanced at Phoenix then crept cautiously toward the beaver dam, sniffing around at the sticks as he went. If there was a beaver in there, he didn't want to scare it.

The area was ripe with the distinctive smell of the river-bank creature, so much so that Clock could not ascertain whether or not one was "home" right now. Now standing atop the sticks that made up the dam, Clock looked down at the other wolf with head cocked to one side. "Perhaps we should hide a little ways off and wait to see if one emerges?"