Duck Lake These are just ghosts that broke my heart

As she moved south, there was a river. The scents there were strongly masculine and made her uneasy - and as lonely as she was, Silanga knew better than to place herself in danger among a clan of men, especially at this time. She hurried to bypass the area and after several hours she came upon a lake.

It was the sound of squawking ducks that raised her attention the most. A series of mallards took turns crashing in to the water and chasing one another. Evidently the avian world had gone as crazy as everywhere else.

The woman lurked alongside the lake's edge and when the cacophony dissolved, she took a moment to dip her head and drink a few laps. A bead of water trailed off her chin.

He broke off from those immediately returning to Epoch, deciding he would meander for a bit before coming home. Phox promised he wouldn't go get another leg taken off. And then away! He traveled to the small lake. His eye was keen on the woman who drank there, and Phox could no longer approach quietly in his current condition. That did not mean she would be chased off, though.

Phox had never been great at the cold open, but when he spotted a bright yellow flowering plant, he plucked it and held it in his mouth. Was this flirting?

The Redhawk would know soon, as he approached the woman.

feel free to skip Moss unless you'd like your character to take notice of her!

While she would not often make a habit of straying from the borders, Moss felt it was within her realm of interests to scout the area just beyond the borders for any sign of gatherings that might threaten their peace. By this point, she was about 85% convinced that whatever ragtag bunch it had been that had set Akavir on edge had moved off, or perhaps had been exaggerated. Still, there was that 15%...

She roamed back in the direction from which she'd originally come, wandering toward the lake which she figured might be a hotspot for gathering wolves. She meandered along the shore, and was pushing her way though a stand of dried cattail reeds like a moose when the ducks began to fuss. Cautiously, she moved back, withdrawing from the cattails as quietly as she could, so she might have a bit of discretion. She peered around the reeds. 

A woman, with a greyed muzzle was there. Nearing her, a man with three legs- made even more unusual by the flower he carried in his mouth. She looked back to the woman, wondering if she had some sort of rash that he intended to treat with the herb, and felt some second-hand embarrassment for him- if he should find out he was implying she had a skin condition that needed to be fixed.

When she looked over the water Silanga did not expect to see a shape approaching her. It was a shadow; for a moment she didn't know if it was real or not, until those eyes caught the light. The gold there made her realize it was indeed a person - and they had a bundle of... flowers?

She watched him warily for a moment, and tasted the wind. There didn't appear to be any signs of others - until the wind shifted, and yes, there was a second. A gray wolf this time, and it was a woman. Were they together?

She was nervous. The man was closer, and his posture implied he was no threat, but why would he have any interest in her? The woman chuffed softly and looked between the two of them as if to ask, should I go?

Then there were three. Well, sort of. The two other wolves both looked like they were about to be spooked into oblivion. In fact, the lighter one scuttled into the reeds, hiding there as if she might wither away at the mere sight of him. Okay, so maybe the flowers were too much? He hadn't really been prepared to chat-up two ladies at once. He'd let the hiding one approach if she felt the desire to do so.

W-n 'um fw-rs? he asked, grinning and talking through the bouquet in his mouth. Phox hadn't really considered the fact that talking while holding something would be so... difficult.

The grey-muzzled woman spotted her first, and then the man followed her gaze. There were many potential scenarios that had led to this moment. Perhaps they were lovers, and the man was renewing his vows. Perhaps there had been a squabble and he was trying to make amends. There was still the possibility that she had some kind of rash that she had, and he was offering a solution which was both forward and embarrassing to witness. 

Whatever the situation was, Moss felt she'd intruded. She wasn't keen to find out what their story was- so she left them to it, and wandered away.

The stranger dressed in silver appeared as nervous as Silanga, and they slipped away before the old woman could say anything; she was just turning her attention back to the bright-eyed man when she noticed the glint of pewter slip among the reeds and be gone again.

The man said something but Silanga couldn't tell through his grip around the bouquet. As nervous as she felt in those fleeting moments the scene reminded her of better times. The dark line of her lips twitched in to a shy smile and she let out a small laugh, tilting her head. What?

Evidently there was nothing to fear here from this man, as he only used his teeth for leafy greens.

The one slipped away, and Phox watched her retreat with some interest, but he didn't go chasing after her. He wasn't that desperate!

"What?"

Oh, so she really couldn't understand him. I mean, he'd expected that, but still. Phox dropped the flowers at his feet, flicking his tongue to try and get the taste out of his mouth.

Well, it was supposed to be some kind of nice gesture, but I guess that didn't really work. I was offering you flowers! he explained, perhaps a bit too in-depth. It was like explaining the punch line to a joke and nobody was laughing because the joke was already too complicated an nuanced to begin with.

The man spoke with a voice full of good humor, and Silanga found she enjoyed the sound of his voice without the flowers to impede it. Her smile was more genuine after that. Her eyes full of a sad kind of pleasure, as she hadn't recieved a gift in many weeks - least of all from a man - given her history.

She looked to the flowers he had placed down and carefully moved closer, looking at them, and then at him, and her tail wagged. That's... very sweet. The flowers were still mostly intact. She didn't know what kind they were, but that didn't matter.

Do you gift every woman you see? She said this with a slight chuckle to her tone.

He grinned, happy to have brightened her day a little bit. There was something nice about doing nice things for folks. Heck, it brightened his day just to have a pleasant chat.

If I did that, he replied with a goofy smile, I'm pretty sure I'd have a lot of angry dudes coming after me. Not to mention a lot of angry women. Phox couldn't imagine the wrath of a thousand husbands all getting their tails in a knot over him gifting their wives. He wondered if Reyson would find wrath in his heart for Phox if he ever found out that Phox had been helping Meadow with her duties. But never mind them!

My name's Phox. Do you have a name, or are you one of those gals who thinks it's unladylike to give her name out for free?