Duck Lake waterside

The sight of the Duck Lake would be welcome by many a traveler. The body of water was large and fenced in by a treeline of aspen. A wonderful spot for a refreshing swim and cool place in the shade. This was, of course, if a prospective traveler did not mind company. The air thrummed with the quacking of ducks and the lake's surface rippled with the numerous bodies of the fowl for which the lake was named.

Hidden within the shade of the aspen perimeter, Vale held a crouch. Gilded eyes sweeping the scene. Drakes and hens were abound and the odd puffball of a duckling meandered after their mother. She wouldn't be shocked to stumble across the odd nest if she walked the treeline.

The small wolf was spoiled for choice. Kvarsheim was lovely for hares and grazing deer, but they lacked much in the way of bird. A sudden craving that would be soon fulfilled, if she remained unseen.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the land and setting the lake aflame with gold, as if a star had fallen to earth and become trapped beneath the waves. The surface shimmered in the waning light, and the air was alive with the soft quacks and rustling feathers of a large flock of ducks.
 
It had been months since she had ventured out of the valley. Winter had driven her away, seeking refuge and strength in a distant, hidden place. Now she was back, her body restored to its former glory, muscles rippling beneath her sleek, oil-slick coat.
 
Although the scent of ducks was tantalizing, it wasn't what had drawn her here. There was another scent—one that captured her attention with a tantalizing familiarity yet carried a hint of something different. She followed it with a quiet, determined elegance, her senses finely attuned to every nuance in the air.
 
As she prowled through the dense underbrush, Grackle’s tattered ears twitched, picking up the faint, rhythmic clucking of the ducks nesting nearby. She moved like a shadow, her paws near-silent on the soft ground, eyes scanning the terrain with a predatory gleam.
 
Nestled in the thick underbrush of the aspen grove lay her target. Her breath caught in her throat as she approached, the scent growing stronger, more distinct. Disappointment flickered through her as the scent became clear, but a lead was a lead, was it not?

What was it Grandfather had told her? Others were more cooperative if you greeted them with a smile, and showed interest in what they were doing. Okay. She could do this. She took a deep breath.
 
Grackle appeared next to the woman like a phantom, her lips twisted into a too-wide smile—razor sharp teeth catching the light with a flash.
 
Hunting? she asked, her voice a low, almost purring growl, adder-like eyes transfixed unblinking on the little she-wolf.

A dark ear twisted as the air shifted in the underbrush. A new presence on her radar, Vale turned to be immediately be taken aback by the pantherine woman. Faced with wide eyes and pointed teeth, a startled Oh! fled from her maw before she snapped her jaws together. Her gaze flitted towards the ducks, praying that they had not been alerted to the wolves nearby.

Gilded eyes returned to the panther-woman. Vale's ears pinned to her head and her tail wagged passively between her hocks. Her heart in her throat, she scrambled to quickly, and quietly, address the much larger woman. Hunting? Oh—yes, hunting. She gestured with her muzzle towards the abundant water fowl.

I've been fancying a bit of bird. Vale collected herself somewhat, ears now curiously turned towards the stranger. Her gaze turned questioning, her head tilting slightly. Did you want to help?

Grackle leaned in slightly, her tattered ears flicking forward to show she was listening. No need to be nervous, she purred melodically, her snake-like gaze boring into the woman's. If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already. She let the words hang in the air, hoping they came across as comforting. That was comforting, right?

I've never really hunted birds before. Only their eggs. Her voice carried a note of amusement as she pondered this. But sure, I'll lend you a paw. Why not? A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. She would never turn down a chance to broaden her already impressive range of skills.

Grackle shifted her weight, muscles rippling beneath her sleek, oil-slick coat. She could almost feel the tension radiating off the woman, and she tried—truly, she did—to put her at ease. Show me the way, little duck hunter, she growled, a playful edge to her voice. I'll follow your lead. The she-wolf grinned, lips pulling back to reveal just a few too many teeth.

If I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already.

The words did not so much as hang in the air as they dropped like a stone down a hole. If the panther-woman remained silent afterwards they surely would have heard an echo.

It wasn't particularly comforting, no. This was evident upon Vale's face with a wince and drop of her ears. Doubt seeded itself in her mind. Perhaps this endeavor wasn't worth it. Vale studied the larger woman's expression before softening. Not everyone was skilled at conversation, and this woman did not seem like she meant harm.

A gentle smile found a place on her lips, even if a tension remained in her brow. Whether it was from her own nerves or the determination to go home after a successful hunt, it was difficult to tell. Vale's tail waved gently at her new hunting partner. Well, if all else fails, I think between the two of us can find a nest together, right?

Vale's eyes returned to the ducks, searching for individuals that lingered near the tree line. They had little chance with birds near the water and those in the open space between were a gamble. Being spotted was not an option if they wanted to succeed.

Her eyes landed to a mallard that separated from the raft and meandered out of the water. A tremor of excitement travelled down her legs. A nesting bird, perhaps. As Vale's eyes followed the hen, she noted that it passed other fowl settled upon the shore.

See her? Vale extended a paw to point out the hen for Grackle. She might be going back to her eggs, ducks like to sleep on the water.

The woman smiled! Sure, she winced too, but that was irrelevant. Mission success! Maybe she wasn't so terrible at this socializing thing after all. A rather self-satisfied smirk settled on Grackle's face.

If all else fails? I plan on having both, the adder replied, her gaze picking among the reeds, Do you think you're better suited to duck catching or egg stealing? She tilted her head, studying the little stranger. I think you'd be less likely to alert the hen, but I might be able to fit more eggs in my mouth, she mused, squinting at the woman calculatingly. Or, we could split up, each try for different birds, then search for eggs once they're spooked.

Grackle's tail twitched in anticipation, the thrill of hunting and outsmarting their prey bubbling up through her veins, making her paws grow restless. Her dark nails flexed, leaving grooves in the earth. What do you think?

Vale could barely stifle a laugh as she imaged the pantherine woman with a mouthful of duck eggs.

I think the eggs should be our backup plan. With the two of us we may each be able to snag a bird, or at least spook one into the other. Vale's eyes surveyed the surrounding brush, the grass before them, and the watery refuge where the ducks would flee to. I can stalk out towards the reeds lining the shore. I'm smaller and harder to notice. If you want to find a bird walking by the treeline or at least use the trees to cover you we might be able to do this mostly stealthy.

If they played their cards right, there was no sense in squandering they may each have a bird to themselves. Vale's eyes returned to Grackle, ears cupped towards hear for any further suggestions.

If there were none, Vale would shift low to her belly and slink away from the cover of the trees. Relying only on the tall summer grass to obscure her as she crept ever closer towards the water and the closest (sitting) duck.

I'm so so sorry I let this drop T-T
Would you like to end it here or continue? <3

The eggs might be the valley wolf’s backup plan, but Grackle wasn’t about to let them slip through her claws so easily. The thought of warm, golden treasures still made her mouth water, and if she couldn't sink her teeth into them right away, she'd be sure to enjoy a fine duck with a yolky dessert to follow.

The tiny woman's plan seemed sound enough, and Grackle was happy to oblige. Without a word, she veered off in the opposite direction, padding silently through the reeds. If the plan fell apart, well, Grackle would send the birds flying straight into the she-wolf’s waiting jaws just as suggested. There, she crouched, ears perked, eyes sharp, waiting for the signal.

The moment the little wolf made her move, Grackle sprang into action, a black blur against the dusky reeds. Her first lunge fell short, the duck’s frantic quack mocking her miss. But she was nothing if not relentless. On the second strike, her jaws snapped shut with a satisfying crunch, feathers fluttering down like snowflakes as she secured her catch.

Grackle’s lips curled into a triumphant grin around the bird’s neck, her jade eyes gleaming with satisfaction. She glanced over to see if her partner had fared as well, already contemplating the best way to crack open an egg with her teeth without spilling too much of the good stuff.