Arrow Lake can you spare a dam?

minor assumption that, if Finley doesn’t hear about the leaders’ leaves directly, she knows they’re gone from scent.

72°F clear, semi-humid with mild wind. for @Lunaria; rolled here for a beaver, up to you whether it’s successful! can forward-date a bit if Arrow Lake is pushing it distance-wise.

Maybe leaving the canyon when both leaders were M.I.A. wasn’t the best idea. Then again, Finley had committed to a lot of questionable ideas in the past few days, and taking a stroll through the mountains was nothing in comparison. Her verbal spar with Renard a few days prior, understated as it was, left her head buzzing, and she was scarcely inclined to tackle new encounters in such a state—at least not with packmates.

The lake to the northeast had caught her attention during previous wanderings around the Sunspire, and so here Finley found herself on a warm afternoon. Paths by the water, from her initial vantage, were neither apparent nor steady; the challenge of traversing it kept her mind sharp, and by the time she neared level ground, Finley was eager to put her senses to use. From a light breeze wafting up the hills, the scent of beaver drifted towards her—huh, out at this time? Was it lost? injured? Good.

Target locked. Finley dropped her head to the ground for a good sniff. It seemed she wasn’t alone.

Thanks for asking! Since Arrow Lake is a tad bit far, maybe we could forward date it by a little? Also, apologies for the wait!

Hunting by herself rather than having members of the tribe to carry the burden of stamina drainage with her was more difficult than perceived, but Lunaria was beggining to feel better adjusted to a life of self-dependence little by little. While the young girl still did have a lot to learn about surviving in solitude, trying is certainly much more efficient than sitting on her arse all day to await the aid of no one. And the bordem of sitting on her arse for several hours is exactly what brought the femme's strides toward this lake.

Mild winds carried through the elevated grounds, ruffling her black pelt and carrying many scents along with it. Though a certain, intoxicating arouma that whaffed in is what really caught Lunaria's attention. It was an oily, meaty, and particularly familiar prey item scent that she had definitely sensed in the past. Then it suddenly clicked — a beaver. Who could forget such a delectable meal?

The original plan was to take a quick drink of water and continue onwards, but there was noway Luna would be passing up the opportunity to try and catch the tasty morsel.

Its scent trail coaxed Luna closer and closer towards the lake's edge and soon enough she'd have her target right in her sights, although it would seem someone beat her to it. The scent trail intermixed with that of another wolf's and one lift of her moonstone gaze revealed that there was, indeed, another a few feet ahead of her. At first, Lunaria would freeze and contemplate on hiding someplace nearby, but the she-wolf was too reluctant to give up the meal at the same time. So, instead, Luna would call out to them: "I assume we seek the same thing, no?" She asked in a silky yet pitched tone in order to make herself heard from the distance. Quite a bold move to call out to a stranger with unknown intentions, but Luna was bound to be sighted by them either way.

Works for me! The first sentence/minor assumption is half irrelevant now anyway because of thread backdating, whoops, but it’s not super relevant here anyway ^^" No worries on the wait~

The stranger’s scent was slightly distant, fresh—“I assume we seek the same thing, no?”

Finley lifted her head, shoulder-level, towards the speaker: another wolf, black-pelted and bright-eyed, by the lake’s edge. From the distance Finley couldn’t make out the stranger’s expression, but the words were clear. Besides, if she had malicious intentions it’d be ridiculous to make herself known so blatantly.

Another set of tooth and claw would be helpful. Finley had grown used to hunting for herself in a year’s time (how long ago it felt already), but she’d set her targets on small game, and only rarely beavers; they typically slept, nocturnal as any other wolf, when Finley hunted. She only recognized the scent from passing familiarity, and scarcely recalled the taste—but it had to be better than dry desert jackrabbit.

At first Finley replied with a nod; then, realizing she might be too far for the gesture to be discernible, she gave her throat a quick clear and said, “Beaver.” Half-statement, half-question. Normally her hunts were silent, but if the beaver was going to be chased off by voices it would have fled by now—and, based on a pungent oil drifting up from the lakeshore, it had not. Finley resumed her careful approach. Maybe they could trap it before it slipped away.

It was hard to make out exactly what they were trying to imply at first, though it seemed like the oak colored she-wolf prefered action rather than idle talk. 'Beaver' was her simple response to Lunaria's question and Luna couldn't help but smile. Straight to the point huh? Luna didn't blame her. Afterall, idle talk this close to the lake would likely scare a potential meal away.

Lunaria lowered her body closer to the ground and began slinking towards the exact spot the brownish female was headed. Her movements started slowing down to a halt when she reached the spot however — it appeared that they were already attempting to make a move towards the large rodent silently. So in turn, the dark dame stood still and awaited a moment in where she might be needed.

The stranger offered no verbal response, but Finley’s call was heard; she, too, dropped to a crouch and began slinking forward. Finley resumed her own pursuit; she was less subtle, her steps heavy where the other’s were light, and her compensating slowness meant the other reached their target first. Here the other hunter stood still—had she been noticed? Was she waiting for a cue?

Their target hid in a shallow divot a few feet from the water’s edge, hidden among sticks and grass. Buck teeth had hooked around the heftier end of a mighty branch, telltale dirt scrapings and grass uprooted in its wake. The beaver, quite awake but oblivious to its looming predators, gave tug after tug; its branch would not budge. Its shelter could prove its undoing; the branch had snagged among the roots, and the rodent was a young specimen, either too determined or stupid to admit defeat and untangle its bounty.

But surely if it noticed the wolves, it would give up and dive for the lake, its life more important than some dumb stick. Finley looked back to her ally; they had one chance. A sidelong glance towards the escape route; then a curious head tilt to the turquoise-eyed wolf, a nose point to the beaver, back to her. Nonverbal communication (or communication in general) was not Finley’s strong suit. She could only hope the other had assessed the situation similarly and drawn the same conclusion: one for the throat, one for the escape. Surely it wouldn’t try running further inland; its flopping, heavy gait—or so Finley assumed; it looked even less lithe than her—wouldn’t stand a chance.

Hopefully I understood situation aksdjfh-

Lunaria's eyebrows were knit together in both slight confusion and undeniable concentration when she'd notice her partner gesturing something — it was quite obvious that they were in fact signals or else Luna wouldn't have had a clue in hell what was going on. Signals such as these were used all the time during groups hunts back when the young dame was still a member of Eagle Peak, though she had yet to master the art of understanding non-verbal communication and it often got in the way of hunts. But oh well, that's fine — luckily Lunaria already had a slight idea of what the brown she-wolf might've been implying in this situation.

Luna had been intently watching the musky rodent's movements. It was far too occupied with pulling a snagged branch from its resistant roots to notice the soon to be impending doom that awaited it at the maws of two predators. It was the perfect opportunity to take 'em out right then and there, but if this beaver managed to escape, her hopefulness would be for nothing. 

'The escape route would need to be blocked off beforehand.'

Lunaria gave a sharp nod to address the she-wolf's signals and wasted no time moving forward. Luna's movements were swift, but not rushed, trying best to not shift too much weight in her paws and reveal her presence as she stealthily moved towards the bottom half of the divot.

you got it! was going for something like this expertly-drawn and extremely proportionate diagram. feel free to ask if anything else confusing comes up and/or needs changing :>

It took a moment, but the stranger got the message and started creeping between the beaver and the lake: the perfect block. Excellent. Making a mental note of the stranger’s face, should their paths cross again, Finley gave a small nod of approval, her own expression concentrated as ever. Then she turned back to the rodent, checking one last time to make sure it still hadn’t noticed—and lunged.

Her own movements were far less stealthy. With a strangled cry the beaver swung its head, and Finley lunged. She expected it to drop its branch at an instant as it turned back for the water, but miscalculated by moments—her jaw clamped around wood, twigs snapping in her teeth. Instead of sinking her fangs into its oily flesh, the beaver had kept hold just long enough to jab the branch’s sturdier end at Finley’s mouth. Sure, now it came free.

Shaking her head, open mouth sputtering splinters, Finley turned to see the beaver bounding straight for the water. Normally she would have given chase, but if the stranger’s reflexes were fast then surely it would be an easy kill.

I love it XD

The brown female went straight to doing her part and lunged towards the seemingly distracted rodent, but a small miscalculation and the beaver's recent awareness of their presence caused their plan to back fire. 'Shit, shit, SHIT! That wasn't supposed to happen at all!' Luna's mind wandered frantically at the situation taking place — her hunting partner had bitten into the wrong thing and the prey was going to get away — Lunaria needed to act fast.

Just as the beaver began thundering towards the lake's shore's, the black she-wolf bolted faster towards the opening and sprung into their path as an attempt to block them, dust clouds flying in the air as her paws skittered through the dirt. The beaver managed to make a turn and almost pass luna to reach the lake, but with one last paniced turn of her body, Lunaria's teeth clamped down hard on the rodent's flattaned tail and started tugging it away from it's safe haven — 'Thank God, that was close' she thought to herself with a sigh of relief. Her eyes shifted to look towards the girl as a small plea to assist her with this tug of war.

A bolt of black; the other hunter threw herself at their target. With a sharp turn the beaver nearly escaped; Finley only caught a flash of the wordless plea before also flinging herself back into the fray—seemed this rodent had fight in it yet. But the fangs clamped in its tail sealed its fate, and Finley ended its misery with a sharp bite to the neck. Slick fur and blood’s tang poured into her mouth; not the world’s most pleasant combination, but the fat would be plentiful.

She kept hold a short while after the squirming had stopped, catching her own breath. Then Finley lifted her head, and limp the beaver fell with the grace of a neglected ragdoll. “Excellent work,” she said, with an approving lick across her muzzle. “Shall we split?”

The invitation came automatically, much rehearsed but no less genuine. Moments after speaking it dawned on her (with nagging reluctance) that, as part of a pack, she ought to bring her share back to their cache. But would anyone in the canyon have a taste for beaver? Regardless, the offer was on the table. Finley could negotiate; they had plenty to share.

We can wrap the thread up somewhere around here if you'd like? :3

 Lunaria nearly thought that the grip she had on the tail would slip and she'd have to end up swimming after the beaver instead (which would've failed), but thankfully her partner heard the plea and finished the job; the target was finally required.

The jawlock she had on the fatty-tail opened as the dark femme stood up, shaking away any mud or water that got caught in her pelt as a result of the little "goose chase". 'Excellent work' the brown she-wolf praised, and nod of a head was directed towards them. She smiled and responded "Right back at you, miss" — Luna couldn't have done it without her afterall.

The moon wolf's bright eyes trailed hungrily over the catch in front of her and at the signal of the words 'shall we split?', Luna would shout "Say no more!" giddly with a casual wave of her tail.

works for me! thank you for the thread :D

Finley took the compliment with a cordial nod; she thought she could have moved faster, if anything, but that mattered little now. Just something to keep in mind for the next hunt. This one had been a success, and that was that.

“Say no more!” replied the fellow hunter, with an excited wag of her tail—childish, Finley thought, but not unearned.

Without further cue, she nosed the beaver forward in a clear invitation to dig in. Seemed the other was in no rush to leave or take her piece away; fair enough. Splitting its entrails could get messy, and a little feast wouldn’t hurt.

Her own tail lowered with a friendly sway, Finley sank her teeth into their shared hunt.