Lost Creek Hollow strike rate

By now, she had settled in, rested up, hunted a bit, and familiarized herself with the territory her new pack claimed. All standard matters so far, and she did so keeping largely to herself in these earliest times, citing a need for a recharge before shifting her gears once again--now not only for herself or the lands that had raise her and hers, but for Lost Creek's purpose too. She was getting there, though, coming around with a little time, and feeling less like a stranger to the place by the day.

Soon, it would be time for her to set off again and head for the mountain range.. but the tremors rippling from those distant shifts were enough to stall her progress. Nothing good was sure to come of anything of that magnitude, and although she was curious of the effect.. something told her not to rush at that one.

So, here she prowled closer to the namesake creek, hoping to maybe flush one more rabbit before the gray skies decided to turn totally towards rain. She wasn't having any luck so far, so kept jogging on carefully.

He hadn't spent too much time exploring his new home, not yet anyway, as he'd been welcomed to stay in the middle of the night. Mink had focused on stashing away the fish he'd brought. Afterwards he was so tired from the thrill of it all that he'd found a soft patch of grass and passed out in it, his brain filling with distorting images of angry fish speaking with his late grandmother's voice; the dreams did not sink in too deeply though, and by morning he'd forgotten the entire ordeal. He woke up, shook the pine needles and mud from his coat, and carried on as if nothing had changed - it hadn't fully sunken in yet that he had a pack, but it would eventually.

The next few days passed swimmingly. Mink explored sparingly, mostly mapping where the pack stored their goodies so that he'd know where to take his future gifts and things. Then he did a tour of the outlying territories - those that fringed alongside the heavy scent of the pack - just to get the lay of the land. It had taken him hours of hiking to figure out the best routes, and as Mink came slinking back to the territory heart (and the lake, where he'd hoped to slake his thirst) he almost didn't notice the woman doing the same.

Or, that's what he supposed. She was moving at a jog away from the main waterway, and as Mink followed after her he realized there were many branching creeks within the territory which might, one day, burst with fish. It was the perfect place to live according to Mink. But the woman didn't stop - she wasn't interested in the water from what he could tell, and that seemed curious to him. It didn't occur to the wolf that maybe, maybe, stalking someone you've never met through their home could be misconstrued.

Although she did not come into any fresh, fruitful trails, she still could savor the motion spent toiling along, and the ground covered with it--even if it didn't suit quite like a fresh meal did. But, prey seemed exceptionally flighty lately, and neither could she claim to know all the best spots to scour here beside the creek, or how to play it all best to her finest advantage yet. Learning that was still a work in progress, one she was chipping away at now until at first suspicion began to loom that she was no longer so alone.

She carefully swallowed back the bite of instinctive recoil this information wanted to give, and she soothed her prickling skin with the gentle reminder of this is pack now, her among them. Still, she was a stranger to most wolves here save for Arbiter, and the same went for them too. A glance over her shoulder to go with a long sniff of the winds had her really doubting that this was the leader following her; she shortened her stride a few notches, then finally stopped entirely to let her tag-along join her, or not. She could do well to better acquaint herself, anyway.

As she continued on her way, he did not think and instead he observed her, following doggedly behind. His steps were sinuous things; where one might scramble for purchase upon the loose soil, he managed to step right on over it with a single stride, and sometimes it was hard to tell where one stride began and another ended; he flowed across the terrain, uneven though it was and foreign though it felt to him. Mink had always been skilled in the art of navigation - his survival had always depended on it - and whether it was a copse of trees or a sly little creek bed, he saw no obstacle.

Soon enough the woman slowed her own pace and cast a look over her shoulder; he had not realized his slinking steps were so obvious, but perhaps she was as trained a scout as he had become. His face split in to its characteristic grin; worming across his long snout and hopefully appearing quite warm and inviting to her. Hello! He called to her, then. Mink did not take notice of the finer details of her posture, although his glancing eyes did see a rigidity set itself across her form, a rise of the hairs along her shoulders. He was not well versed in the behaviors of others and especially so in the behaviors of pack wolves, which would take some time for him to adapt to, so all of these things went over his head.

He did take himself around her with some precision, trying not to cut off her path or drift too close so as to avoid discomfort. There were patches of light leaking in through the nearly-gapless boughs overhead, and he sought out a particularly bright segment to settle beneath, as if he fully belonged there in the woods. His coat turned a shade of warm red-brown everywhere the light dappled, save for the darkness of his face and crown. I don't suppose you could give me a tour...? I've seen most of the outer limits, but the internals of this place, well, they're quite a maze. How do you tell all these waterways apart? Do they each have a name..?

Oh, now he was bordering on being a pest and he knew it, so he chuckled softly to himself and finished with: Ah, on the topic of names: I am Mink, who might you be..?

She drew a slow breath, and blinked in sight of him still--processing, with a map that was still taking shape. It was not only him, but his place among it all with her, and then all that went well beyond him in all directions. Jomyo supposed too that she had not been quite so ready for so much, so soon, but she turned her ears forward to him after half a pivot of her own once she had decided that she could cope with proximity like that. However it was immediately clear that he would set the pace between them for the conversation's starters--his questions came rolling so soon after, sending her ears out to a gentle splay, and her trying to answer first with what she could.

Actually I'm still just getting acquainted with the place myself, so calling it a tour from me might be a bit much, she admitted easily, and began to ease herself back into motion soon after saying so. But you can definitely come along with me if you want still. I'm just scouting it all out, seeing where good trails might go.. she was scoping the finer details of the place herself, simply covering ground and taking it in--keys to her role and its duties, more or less. I haven't been here all that long. And neither do I know any other specific names here besides the big one. Arbiter might, though. I didn't ask specifically. Jomyo pondered the idea, unsure if they seemed like a pack that attached to their lands yet. She couldn't pass a rightful judgement, so assumed that yeah, maybe there were fond monikers for some of these little bends for the namesake creek.

I'm Jomyo, she exchanged readily with a name to match very well onto him: Mink. She wouldn't have any issue remembering that one. Then, after another soft nod, she moved her way on down the route her nose was following as roughly as the landscape would allow--content enough to let conversation flow if it needed to a bit, but thankful for another set of senses ranging with her--two were better than one, and she wanted to make use of it.