Otatso Wetlands tatarmoon

There was a squawk and a brief struggle. Gavrel emerged from the sedge, his heels slick with mud and a goose hanging from his jaws. Its neck was curved like the handle of an umbrella, and was just as glossy.

He rarely ever got this lucky, and his body was stiff with excitement.

Maybe he would save a feather for Redd. The concept of courting to him was apocryphal, just so much prehistoric scrawling on a cave wall. All he knew was that he liked to see her smile, and that her usual guardedness was not a deterrent to him, but rather the topsoil layer of a history he wanted to know more of.

He stopped to examine the goose once more, and ran a claw through the barred plumage of its chest. The pattern was reminiscent of sedimentary strata, like the side of the Rise banded by dusky light.

Thyme had come down from the north to much friendlier territories. Or so he thought, because he was now making his way through a wetland. The wandering loner had not really a certain aim or landmark he would go to. His goal was to make it through this territory. Perhaps head out of here before sundown. His pale agouti body covered in mud and slick until his belly and part of his chest. He thought he had been aware of his footing but the mud showed otherwise.

Thyme had been so focused on his footing that he only noticed at the last minute there was another wolf ahead. He stopped and studied the scene. He noticed the male had a fat goose in his jaws. Thyme licked his lips, mostly because it was a reminder that he should find something as well. Thyme was not here to cause trouble though. He diverted his route to show the male he would pass him with a wide berth and not set out to challenge for his meal.

Like Thyme, Gavrel did not notice him until they stood only a few yards apart. He spoke out of mindless reflex.

Hey, he said through the mouthful of goose, before dropping it on a dryer patch of dirt. He coughed out a feather.

Lookin' for something?

His face was screwed with suspicion, his body similarly tense -- he placed a paw over the body of the goose even as his working eye appraised the stranger and found little to be threatening about him.

He was spare, and from where he stood Gavrel could not scent a pack on him. He knew what young men without connections were capable of because he had been one himself, up until half a moon ago.

So he did not let his guard down.

Thyme stopped in his tracks when he heard the muffed tone. He stiffened and turned to face the other. He looked imposing. Thyme lowered his head and shoulders. He noticed the other dropped his meal and then asked him a question. Thyme slowly straightened when he noticed the male was at least not charging at him. That was a relief.

"Just passing through, wanting to get out of this place before dark," he admitted and then shot him a hesitant smile. There was no malice in the young male, actually completely the opposite. "Do you know what I can expect on the other side of these wetlands?," he dared to ask. The male kind of intimidated him. His tail showed that by the low posture and hesitant wag.

The stranger was demure and submissive in turns. Gavrel noticed the gentle wave of his tail, his sloped shoulders, which immediately reminded him of Jannik. His heart clenched of its own accord.

A pack or two, he said, not wanting to give away too much information about the Rise, but not wanting to come off as belligerent either.

His gaze softened by degrees. And the ocean, if you've ever seen it.

He himself could spy it on patrols that went north of the Rise, a disk of deep blue in the distance. He wondered if wolves lived on the shore, at the veritable edge of the world.

Are you a traveler, or what? And after a measured pause, fidgeting with the pale covert feathers of the goose, I'm Gavrel.

Thyme nodded, that was good to know that there were packs there. He could use a home, maybe learn a new culture or religion. He always learned a lot and felt wiser. "I have, though it scared me a little at the vastness of it," he admitted honestly. His voice was confident. He knew that wasn't his thing.

"Yes! I am," he hummed. His posture was getting a little more confident now they were talking. "I'm Thyme," he introduced. "I've been traveling since I was quite young. I join packs, often wanting to learn about their customs and culture. It is quite fascinating. Then eventually I move on to learn new things," he explained to the other. "You smell like you are part of a pack," Thyme stated.

Gavrel did not blame Thyme for being scared of the ocean. At its best it still came with a dose of vertigo. All that water, for all those fathoms -- it was incomprehensible.

Good nose, he said through a half-smile, deciding then and there that he could trust the other man. I'm of Redtail Rise.

He paused. It's funny you mention customs, and whatnot. The Rise is pretty... out there, I think.

This was surely nothing more than a cultural difference, but the thought of flitting between packs unnerved him. It made more sense than handcuffing yourself to a sinking ship, but perhaps it was the persistent romantic in Gavrel that bade him to go all in or go home, to devote yourself completely and for life until it was physically impossible to do so.

You've never thought about settling down? He flicked his ears, the unscarred half of his face tense with scrutiny.

Thyme was glad that he wasn't ridiculed for his wariness of the ocean. He dipped his head gratefully It wasn't that he was fearful of it, but he was wary. It was a completely different landscape too. One where hunting, and way of life was very different. The creatures that lived there had no similarities with the ones he knew. Maybe one day he would join a pack that was tied to the ocean, but now it felt too much out of his comfort zone.

Really? His interest had been instantly peaked. He quirked up his lips. Would you mind to tell me more about it? Some were very closed about their way of life, and perhaps Gavrel was one of them. It wasn't something that offended him, he was a curious wolf and sometimes others disliked that or thought he was nosy. He had been told off once for asking too many questions. Then he had felt embarrassed, now he could only laugh about it. He was still young but then he had been really young with asking so many 'whys' and 'hows'.

Yes, it has crossed my mind. But sometimes I did feel a little distance between me and the original pack members to really settle somewhere. It all depends really. I don't want to overstay my welcome. Thyme had experienced that at one pack, then he had only stayed for a month or so. Another he had stayed for more than half a year. The last pack I joined disband so there was also not an option to stay he explained. It had been sad to see a pack of wolves struggling. I guess that is part of life, but I do have family in this region so perhaps I run into my own family one day. It would be nice to see them again.

It was not the first time he had been asked to chronicle the idiosyncrasies of the Rise wolves, so a description came easily: tinted, of course, by a measure of affection and admiration.

Well... they say so much without speaking, he began, as always, about the convention that set them apart the most. It's almost all body language, all the time.

He paused. Any more than that, it felt unfair to be speaking for them. He scarcely knew their history. At their core was a literal familial bond, one he could never partake in. Instead, he focused on Thyme's answer, responding with a sympathetic click of his tongue.

I know how that is, he replied. His efforts towards belonging had never got him anywhere, even and especially in his natal pack. Redtail Rise had been the sole, shining exception. I hope you get to see your family soon. He imagined that dispersal from a family that actually loved you had to be difficult.

If you'll still be around here, I'd love to take you some time to see the Rise, yeah?

Gavrel meant it. Thyme seemed sincere enough -- in fact, he reminded Gavrel sorely of his aimless self just a few months ago. He flashed him a winning smile in an effort to get the pensive young man to mirror it.

Thyme liked to hear more about packs and how they worked but what Gavrel spoke of was something he hadn't come across before. Guess it made sense, they could communicate perfectly with body language. He was a fan of his voice, especially to ask 'why'. But it might be highly interesting in joining such a pack. That is fasinating, he hummed. He was a big talker though, he might not be able to keep his mouth shut. Only time will tell.

I hope so as well, he had to agree. Thyme's eyes lit up with excitement and happiness when he was invited to the pack. Certainly! He would be honored to visit the rise one day. Who knows wat would come of it, but that was why he loved wandering and meeting others. It is on the other side of these wetlands, right?, motioning his muzzle East in confirmation.

The man had sounded sincere and Thyme really appreciated it. He might have a look through this valley ahead of him and then return back to the north-east. That might be a good plan. I will leave you with your meal, thanks for the directions. Until next time?