Big Salmon Lake daring

He had felt the rumbling in the earth and felt it wise to flee. His paws had brought him south, then north again, aimless wandering the only thing he knew these days — hardly more than a weary traveler looking for ample place to rest his head each night and enough food to fill his belly each night. Even in the frosty weather of late autumn, he found scraps of bear kills and scrawny rabbits that kept his hunger pangs dim, a quiet gnaw that he could shove into the corner of his mind with ease. He’d grown accustomed to going to bed hungry.

Water lapped at pebbled shores and he watched as sparing sunlight reflected on windswept waves. He’d spent a few days at the lake, wondering if perhaps he should stay here til the whether warmed again. There was ample enough prey and he had yet to encounter another wolf. Lonely as he was, he dreaded a run-in with another canine. Baltasar was weak, scrawny, nowhere near his normal bulk. Surely, he would lose any fight that might come his way.

The black wolf, fur peppered with grey and brown, leaned his head to the water and drank.

Hunger had fallen upon all of them, but it was with a certain desperation that the mother wolf swept herself so far from the safety of Diaspora. Her pups were thinning—nevermind the way her own curvaceous form had begun to show the falling sustainability of the valleys—and she struck out, her own call resounding across the small hollow they temporarily claimed as she made her way down the mountains, the need to satiate her curiosity of the lands opposite of where Mahler wished to take them.

She trailed after the winding water, disappointed when a vast meadow procured nothing of importance or interest. The herds had vanished—larger game ghosting from the wolves who were becoming more and more risk averse to feed their families.

Emerald eyes befell upon the gaunt figure of another by the lake—her own form giving pause before she boldly pressed forward to investigate the wolf. A sashay of narrow hips was given, while her tail curled neutrally against the wind as she closed the distance between them.

Coming back to this grim place was not particularly on the agenda, but Dirge couldn't help but take any and every advantage to stretch his legs a bit. Even with the temperatures dipping and the weather playing a frightful game one day and perfectly calm the next, it had felt good to move across unfamiliar grounds.

Except these weren't all that unfamiliar—they were the site of more than a number of ghastly things. Vercingtorix's death came to mind as he skirted along the muddy bank of the lake, though he wasn't there to see details he could ascertain from that. At least not directly. He could search for @Vela at @Hydra's behest too, but they were exhausting options and some even grim enough that he hadn't wanted to investigate them just yet.

But skirting the lake did provide an advantage—he hoped it would offer them more food. Another elk, that would have been nice. Didn't need to be a cow or a bull, either would have been fine; the premise of food would certainly draw out others too, and perhaps Vela would be among them. Or maybe the far more elusive, like @Revui, or @Yami, the list could go on.

Instead what he found along the curve of the lake was a gathering, and not of any particular sort. There were no proud, pronged antlers peeking out of the muck. No flashes of teeth or otherworldly sights to be seen. No bodies lying strewn and torn. Just two wolves, seemingly minding their own business and their distance.

He did the same, cutting out wide from the shore to move past them... but close enough to eavesdrop, too.

if neither of them acknowledge him, consider it a cameo post! tags are for reference.

He smelled the wolves before he saw them, lantern-lit eyes peering up from the lake as he deeply drank from the cold waters. Mud-splattered paws backed away from the shore and he watched the two approach. One kept their distance, following the lakeshore. He turned his gaze from them and to the cream wolf approaching, keeping close eye on her body language -- he was in unfamiliar territories, wasn't sure how these wolves would react to a newcomer. 

"Hello." The word slipped quickly from his maw before he could decide whether or not he even wanted to say anything. Baltasar fell silent, uncertain. What else was he to say to her? Did she even want to be spoken to? He had assumed so as she closed the distance between them, though perhaps he had been wrong. He kept his posture neutral, head lowered a little bit in a small sign of submission -- a subtle warning that he didn't want any trouble.

An ear flickered at the idle greeting the wolf offered, her eyes sweeping over him in careful study. He was tall—the dark of his fur complete contrast to the pale softness of her own. The wind crept past her, causing her nose to lift before her eyes darted to the other silent wolf. Keen at maintaining neutrality, if not friendliness, the she-wolf still felt rankled at the honeyed wolf’s distant approach. Unwilling to greet them, but close enough that she remained suspicious he was not itching to catch parts of the conversation that would occur.

Jeweled daggers glinted at the Moonspear wolf before turning back to the wolf that had acknowledged her, and canting her slender muzzle slightly, the Diasporan forced a small smile to her lips as her hip gave another sway, halting in her pace. “Hello,” she returned, her own smoky voice carrying to the other. No other glances were given to the tawny wolf, lest he make himself fully known. Her stomach clenched at the notion that preys as scarce—and she had three mouths to feed of her own. Motioning toward the lake, she released a sigh. “Any fish in there?”

Baltasar kept eyes trained cautiously on the she-wolf, head lifting from clear waters. He hadn't looked close enough to see the shimmer of scales in deeper parts of the lake, but now ventured a bit further out, eyes close to the surface as he looked for any tell-tale signs of fish swimming nearby.

"I... think so," he responded as soon as he caught a flash of silver scales, sunlight bouncing off wind-stirred waves. The dark wolf lifted his head and looked to her. There was the scent of other wolves clinging to her pelt -- a pack, perhaps, and he noted this carefully. Baltasar had left his old home behind in search of something new, perhaps this chance meeting would present itself an opportunity for him to find a new home.

"I could catch you one if you'd like," he offered with a hint of a smile spread across narrow maw. He had done his fair share of fishing before, and while he was not an expert, he certainly always tried to show off.

Sorry for delayed post, @Baltasar. Assuming @Dirge is not going to reply as he wasn't addressed yet, but obviously feel free to change your mind/jump in??

An ear gave a delicate flick in consideration to the stranger's offer. It was a surprise to her that during a time of hunger the lone wolf would be so kind, but the mother bear would not turn away the potential for a meal—at least it could be a small morsel she could return to her children.

The other wolf did not draw closer nor reveal he held interest in conversing with the two, and so Ketzia’s sights were set purely upon the fisherman, for now, her wayward paws leading her ever closer to the wolf who was willing to catch her a meal. She could play the coy damsel—a role she had partaken in many times over the moons, but instead she chose honesty, her bright eyes studying him curiously. “I couldn’t say no,” her smoky tones noted, a tilt to her muzzle as she took in his scent, erring to the side of caution still. “I have three hungry children to feed and the herds are nowhere to be found.”