Sleepy Fox Hollow Verbindung

The children continued to grow with each passing day. It felt like a long time since Emmerich had been nothing more than a smudge of charcoal nursing hungrily at his mother. In the months that had followed, he had learned a great deal from both of his parents. Hunting skills were improving based on the journeys that the boy had taken with his father. Even Wylla had given him his first thrill chasing the vole beneath the log.

Emmerich thought about hunting with his mom often. He wanted to show her that he could feed their family, if given the chance. He hadn’t caught anything bigger than plump weasels and mice (some of them by accident), but he believed that he had the makings of a great hunter in him.

Scouring their hollow, Emmerich sought out @Wylla hoping that she would humor him with a small scouting mission. He wanted to tell her about the coyote that he had chased away with his dad. The young boy thought it would make her proud.

Here's the thing: Dusty had never seen a puppy before. Not since he'd been one himself, anyway. And in a lot of ways, he still thought of himself as one, since he'd certainly still been treated as one back at home. Hell, "Mother" had caught up to him a few times already, and there were fresh punctures from his teeth scabbing over on Dusty's scruff.

It had been embarrassing for both of them. He might as well have been trying to carry a moose back home for all the good it did him. But the weight had been plenty enough to slow Dusty down. They'd had a good talk for the duration — albeit somewhat muffled on one end.

But he'd managed to shake the tenacious coyote for the time being, by way of wading through several rivers and rolling around in bear dung in between. Now he was creeping along with the thick scent of wolf rolling over him on an easternly breeze. A mother — a real one — and pups. A male doubtlessly much larger than Dusty himself. If he were a wiser man, he might've tried a different approach. As it was, the male thought the best thing to do was try and sniff out the female to try and plead his case. What mother could resist a cold, skinny, lonely child?

The notion that he was no longer a child had not yet occurred to him.

I hope this is okay! I can delete or make adjustments. Maaaaybe they could discover him creeping around on their scouting trip? He's not too deep in the territory yet.

Totally fine! Thank you so much for replying. <3 ^^

The boy was young and lean in his physique, but he had grown substantially in the last month or so. Emmerich was a child still, but he carried himself with the same warrior’s prowl as his father. He was a guardian of the hollow, after all. He wished to continue that skill, to make it grow into something formidable.

The appearance of a stranger so near to their home had caused Emmerich’s fur to bristle. If he was not mistaken, the individual before him had ventured into the hollow. Perhaps the fool had not scented their marks on the territory. He seemed frazzled and confused. When the stranger’s eyes fell on Emmerich, the boy lifted his head in a proud show and set his yellow eyes directly upon the face of the trespasser.

Yer in our home, he growled softly. What d’ya want?

Though it was meek, Emmerich’s lip curled over his teeth to reveal their points.

The size of the other wolf didn’t really register with Dusty right at first. After all, he was still obliged to show the utmost respect to his “mother” and his mother, and they were both smaller than he. Emmerich’s body language said that he meant business, and Dusty’s response was automatic: splayed ears and a tucked tail, long legs folding to make himself shorter than the one speaking to him.

... which was very short, he then realized. Because this was a puppy, except not the kind you might accidentally eat. Not that he would ever eat a puppy, but he had it on good authority that it could happen.

”I just wanted to see who was here,” he said, which was not really a lie, but not the whole truth, either. He hadn’t had a solid goal in wandering this close — it was just that innate urge to seek companionship. And look! A companion! ”I’m Dusty,” he said with a fervent waggle of his bushy tail — which was still tucked halfway underneath him.

He gazed imploringly at the boy, who Dusty determined must outweigh him by a few pounds, even if he’d not yet grown tall. In a fight? He gave them pretty even odds, not considering that the other wolf had received any advanced training. Mainly because he did not know that such a thing might exist.

Something felt strange about him. Emmerich stayed wary, only because he feared that if he drew too close to the stranger, he might risk harm to himself. Then the creeping feeling that he was letting a trespasser stand in their home tickled at his back. The fur along his neck spiked. He was still too young to understand these things. He and his father had killed the coyote that had trespassed in their home… but was Emmerich expected to kill another wolf?

The white-hooded pup swallowed at a lump in his throat.

Dusty, you’re gonna get in trouble if you don’t smell claimed land, Emmerich said to him. He watched the bushiness of Dusty’s tail wave. He saw the yearning in the man’s eyes for a sense of companionship. The boy was simply afraid that softening his stance would mean their home was weak. He could not be at fault for that.

Let’s go outside of the hollow and maybe we can talk, the white-hooded child offered, motioning back toward the border.

He kept careful watch, but the other wolf wasn't angry, not frightened enough to call for his parents. So the coywolf's posture loosened up and he became gradually more perky as the boy spoke firm words to him. And he was still listening, but it was clear from his lack of reaction that he would not be heeding these words of wisdom.

"Am I in trouble now?" he asked, and managed to sound more wondering than impertinent doing so.

The young male had no notion of whether this pack was strong or weak. It was a family, four strong. That, inherently, was a weakness. But although he was growing into an apex predator, Dusty had not been born to one — everything was a threat to him, and if he couldn't fit it in his mouth and shake it side to side, it was not something he was interested in overcoming.

(It did occur to Dusty that the boy might make a fine meal — but these were cold, reptilian thoughts, and not the sort of thing one acted upon.)

He popped up as if on springs as the other wolf indicated to him that they were going somewhere. This was not his aim — he wanted to go where the other wolves were! — but he felt obliged to let this boy take the lead. Especially if he was in trouble. He followed along as if this was the case, even if he doubted this wolf's ability (both physically and emotionally) to hold him responsible for dipping his toes in their pool. He wasn't the sort to risk injury without the promise of a good meal, but a stubborn thread of pride told him he could certainly outrun the fellow.

"I wonder," he said, and he did his best to maintain a respectful tone, even if he very well knew the question was impertinent, "How I'm ever meant to talk to someone if I'm not allowed to go and find 'em."

He took a peek at his new friend to see if he found this at all funny, and was quick to look contrite if he didn't.

"I'll be more careful," he said, but he only said it to try and smooth any feathers he might've ruffled.

Dusty asked if he was in trouble right then. Some regret was found in the boy’s belly. He probably should have chased the guy from their home. He merely hadn’t been prepared to fight another wolf. He’d thought about it and figured that he could take Dusty away from the hollow and explain to him that if he was caught inside again, he was going to have his feet chewed off. Then he’d be Stubby Rose for the rest of his life.

You’re getting a lot closer to bein in trouble standing there yapping, he grumbled, pushing the strange fellow on the shoulder with his snout. Perhaps if Emmerich could get a feel for how strong this guy was, he could take him… if things turned south, that is. The young man only wanted to avoid having to call for his mom or dad.

Emmerich began to lead them to the border. Dusty hadn’t wandered too far in. He was lucky that Mahler hadn’t been the one patrolling the area. He would not have been met with as understanding a host. The young wolf wondered if he should try to be more forceful about making Dusty understand. He just kept thinking about calling him Stubby after gnawing his feet off, though. It settled sickly in his stomach.

At the border, Emmerich pointed with his snout. He frowned at Dusty, hoping that a serious expression might get the message across.

You do it proper. You stand outside and call for someone and then you wait for them to come meet you. If you walk into someone’s home, you’re going to get bitten. If I see you in my home again, I’ll… He’d thought about Stubby Rose so much that he began to doubt if it was a good threat or not. I’ll feed you to the gargoyle. That was better.

What are you doing out here without knowing how to be polite anyway? Emmerich sighed.

Dusty was easily pushed around, glad to give any ground the younger wolf desired. He was aware that it wasn't smart to be caught trespassing, but he'd hoped he might catch one of these wolves on their own to make his case rather than bringing the whole brigade down upon him, and look! One of them had appeared! And, as Emmerich noted, he wasn't too far into the area, and he was behaving himself, wasn't he? Dusty had a lot of excuses for his behavior and he knew it, but he thought that was just fine as long as nobody got hurt.

But as cheeky as he was, he'd still been raised to be polite and considerate. Which was why it really rankled when he was accused of acting otherwise.

"That might be proper here," he replied, "but you might oughta consider that elsewhere, showin' up at someone's doorstep and demandin' and audience won't get you very far. So maybe I could've got bit up or chased off, but at least I wouldn't be imposing." As if that were a worse fate! And perhaps it was, to Dusty.

His voice held the least amount of censure possible, for one trying to correct the views of another, and his dark blue eyes were very kind and forgiving. He gave another hopeful sashay of his tail and tried to poke at Emmerich the same way the pup had poked at him.

"So? What's your name?" he asked, performing quick side-step to preemptively dodge any retaliatory snaps. "Here we are talkin' about manners. Let's start over. I'm Dusty. How do you do?"

It seemed that Dusty Rose was trying to open young Emmerich’s mind to the possibility that those manners were not universal. Some places didn’t want strangers howling at their borders, demanding that they be answered. The young man found himself frowning. He had several quick retorts that he’d considered offering to the intruder, but he decided against being snarky. If Isa was the type to get provoked at the easiest push, who knows what this guy would do?

Here, that’s what you do. You howl and wait and do your best not to go into people’s homes. You’ll need to remember that if you want to join a pack, Emmerich said to his companion. It was proper in their land, anyway. The young guardian did not think that he could have entered another’s territory and then tried to plead that he was being considerate. Dusty Rose was an odd fellow.

Once they’d gotten out of the hollow, Dusty wanted to try again at introductions. The white-hooded wolf hadn’t realized that he’d never offered his name to the man.

Yes, I know you’re Dusty… my name is Emmerich. And I’m a guardian for my home. That’s why I found you. You’re lucky, you know? What are you doing in these parts anyway?

Little did he know, Dusty’s internal wonderings echoed his new friend’s. He was thinking that Emmerich was a very odd child, even if he was only just barely still a child at all. He made Dusty feel even more awkward and wrong-footed than usual, but he did not see this as a failing on either of their parts. Only a fun hurdle to leap!

“I do,” he said at once, and with feeling! Such a strange boy must come from a very strange pack — and beggars couldn’t be choosers, but that was hardly a concern for such an intensely curious creature as Dusty.

When asked, he was eager to fill the other wolf in on his quest, albeit in such a way that he might as well have said nothing at all.

“I’m blooming,” he told the youth, taking on a more earnest and slightly more serious tone. “In the desert where I was born, everyone for days and weeks is one of my kin. I came here to fall in love — but later. Right now — I want to join a pack. This pack.”

He eyed Emmerich intensely.

“Do I howl now?” he asked, and then he took a deep breath in preparation — but the kind that invited Emmerich to stop him.

I very much adore Mr. Dusty Rose. I think he’s quite the character and I genuinely hope I have many opportunities to keep writing with him. >w<

That was a strange turn of events, thought Emmerich.

Dusty spoke of his home, where he had many members of his family. He said that he was looking for love and for a place to join that would accept him. He said that he wished to join Paleo. The white-hooded youth nodded his head. He may have just found a new member for their small group. The only deciding factor would be if papa and mama would want him in their ranks. Dusty seemed strange, but he had a way with words that the boy had never found in another wolf.

Let’s howl together, okay? That way we can call my papa right here to us.

Emmerich watched Dusty inhale a great breath. He lifted his white snout upward and offered a smarmy smile to his companion. As he howled with Dusty for someone to meet them, he felt his chest swell with pride. How would Isa be able to top something like this? @Mahler would see that his son had done a fine job.

having rather recently put down the coyote, mahler was poised upon the boundarylines as of late. he came to emmerich's call at once.
the lavender eyes scanned the other, and he looked to his son with a chuff. he would allow the growing guardian to make their introductions.

If he'd known how this pack reacted to coyotes, Dusty might have thought to steer clear. It would have been hard to take offense, being that Dusty had watched his own parents kill and eat strangers of all kinds, but he still might have thought better of slinking around the edges of the territory.

As it was, Emmerich had been, in his opinion, exceptionally entertaining. In the alchemy of his delicate mind, this had somehow been transmuted into friendliness, and thus, he expected the newcomer to also be friendly. His own tail was a blur behind him as the larger wolf approached, and the weight of his presence seemed to grow heavier the closer he drew to Dusty. He shrunk under the pressure, not quite fearful but certainly cautious. Mostly, however, it was just the done thing where he was from.

And so was creeping forward to prostrate himself — which was exciting enough that the yearling began to feel wiggly again.

Mahler did not take long to appear. The white-hooded boy smiled softly at his father, pleased that he had heard his call and had responded. Emmerich only hoped that he hadn’t pulled the gargoyle away from serious matters.

Glancing toward Dusty, who had adopted an eager body language, Emmerich breathed in through his nose and steadied himself. He’d need to tell his father that Dusty was in their land, but he didn’t want the strange little coyote to get hurt. There was something off about him. It wasn’t right to punish him the way they had punished the coyote… though he was young, Emmerich knew that Dusty Rose might not understand their harshness.

Papa, hallo, the boy dipped his snout toward the ground. This is Dusty Rose, papa. He smelled us here and he entered our home without knowing. I found him and explained to him that this was not how he should ask for company, in these lands. I brought him to the border and told him to do it right, papa. It seemed childish when he repeated it. Would his father think he had not done well?

He wants a home, and he said he would like to join our pack.

Emmerich looked to Dusty Rose and motioned for him to say his part.

mahler studied the other wolf impassively. he was part coyote, that much was clear; the appearance of it unsettled the man. how would this dusty rose feel to see his cousins so torn and scattered?
but he was proud of emmerich, and favoured the boy with a look that said as much.
"vhy did you trespass?" he chose to ask with a grunt. "trespassing is not taken lightly in paleo. you are quite lucky it vas my son and not me who came across you."
he might be dead otherwise. the gargoyle flicked an ear. "can you hunt or track?"

Why had he trespassed?

The word was unfamiliar to him. He knew it, of course, but to him it was synonymous with sin, and he did not believe he'd sinned against these wolves. It halved his enthusiasm to be accused of such a thing, but ratcheted up his nervous energy by several heart-pounding degrees. He decided to keep a little more distance than he thought was strictly proprietary between himself and the older male, when normally it might have been more polite to crowd close enough to kowtow and grovel.

"I suppose I wanted to get a look at you before you got one at me," he admitted, because he could think of nothing any less damning than the truth. He wanted to explain that, for him, it was rolling the dice any way he tried to join a pack, and he trusted his legs to be swift a whole lot more than he trusted strangers to be kind. Somehow, he determined that this would not impress the grizzled male.

They were moving on, anyway, and Dusty stole a glance toward Emmerich as if to reassure himself before answering the next question.

"Yessir," he said, and he hoped he didn't sound too strange saying it. The only adults he'd ever had to pay mind to had been on first name basis with him, and so less personal honorifics felt a little stiff. "Both," he clarified, "and I can always find water."

The coywolf did not consider that this was not as useful a talent in such a verdant landscape, nor that the sort of hunting he and his family did in the desert was very different from the way these wolves might hunt. He was confident in his abilities: smart enough to understand he was stronger when he relied on others as well as himself, but not yet wise enough to see all the ways in which he was different from this species of his kin.

"What's Paleo?" he asked, his interest keen. He glanced at Emmerich again. "And what's a gargoyle?"

They didn't have those in the desert.

"paleo is us. ve are a small group." emmerich was silent and stoic as he spoke, and mahler found himself fond of this fact. "but ve are all hunters and i am teaching them to spar."
"ve have some alliances. but mostly ve keep to ourselves for now. and i teach farmwork, cultivating plants for eating and for healing."
he exchanged a glance with his son now, amused at the fact of the word. "i suppose that might be me," mahler observed dryly. "but i have no quarrel vith you now, dusty."
"my vife is the leader. she has final say." he tilted his head back and called for @Wylla now, telling her of a joiner's interest.