Sleepy Fox Hollow lavandula angustifolia

@Mahler @Wylla, but open to anyone!

Quiet and calm, Waxwing slowed as he met the stark smell of a pack’s borders. His nose crinkled, and his ears splayed against his skull. And yet, he did not retreat. The boy was young, inexperienced, and he knew that he would need the support of a pack if he wished to thrive. This, he had learned from his sweet, dear parents. A pang in his heart for leaving them, but he knew that they would be okay. And at a year old, he knew he could not live with them forever. With their blessing, he had set out on his own.

Now, several weeks later, and after making his attempt in several places, he found another attempt laying before him. Again, he tested the air with his nose, swiping his tongue over the leathery skin to wet it.

mahler was quick but not so swift, for he had been upon patrol after leaving the herb-larder. his amethyst eyes took in from a distance the young wolf at the borders, and then his charcoal ears came forward.
he chuffed out a loud sound to announce himself, approaching with raised plume but no true aggression, unless the situation should suddenly change. with himself he brought emmerich, who stood nearby to observe an act of guardianship.

Waxwing stole only a brief glance before lowering his gaze as the two approached. One older, though not as old as his own father. One younger, perhaps closer to his own age. He could not remember if this was a good omen or a poor one, but Waxwing would attempt to gain acceptance either way.

Greetings, I… he found his voice, soft and unsure, I have left home to find my way in the world, and I thought perhaps I would try my luck here, he said.

politeness merited a great deal these days with mahler. emmerich remained quiet. "this is paleo.i am mahler. ve are a familiar pack based around trade. vhat skills have you learned or are you intending to learn?"
the hollow was perfectly suited for what they needed; he felt the boy would find a role here, but wanted first to be sure it was teaching that was sought.

Waxwing listened with interest as Mahler explained the name of the pack and its ideals. The younger silvery wolf remained silent. Waxwing yearling felt woefully unprepared for the question he was asked. I am a decent hunter, but was that not true of every wolf his age? Is there something Paleo lacks that I could pursue? The question came with a hopeful sound in his throat.

not a truly aspiring hunter. not a healer, for he had mentioned nothing of herbs. "ve need a tracker and a gamekeeper. ve had a voman here, mayblossom, who learned to cure skins. soon paleo vill reach beyond its borders for a first trading foray. i vant to have a vide range of goods ready." a pause. "vhat is your name?"

Mahler explained what Paleo might benefit from. A tracker and a gamekeeper. Waxwing, he replied to the question. I can learn these things. He wondered if the other his own age would be learning one of these trades, or if his skills lay elsewhere.

like all young things, waxwing was resolute. "very good then," mahler grunted. "meet vith my son emmerich for a tour of the grounds, unless you vould prefer to do it, or come vith me now on patrol."
the choice was that of the new gamekeeper, and mahler would hold none against him.

Mahler suggested he come on patrol, and Waxwing nodded. I will come with you, he decided. How many live here? he asked as he fell into step beside the older man. As he did so, Waxwing began to take in the smells, small signs of where their food might live, and the paths that he would learn to walk in the coming days, weeks, and months.

"it is i, my vife, vylla, our sons emmerich and anselm. ve have two healers, a voman named paeon and a newcomer named vivienne."
small, but not without its merits. he stropped bark from the wide trunk of a nearby tree, pressed his shoulders into it to leave tufts of fur behind, sprayed the bushes along the borderline with the musky banner of himself and paleo, scented a wide length away.

Waxwing noted that each time a word should have begun with a certain sound, Mahler pronounced it with another. The boy pressed a smile away at the observation, figuring that Mahler would not appreciate somebody making fun of the way he spoke. He had been raised with manners, after all.

The pack was small, as Waxwing—would he become Vaxving?—had suspected. Counting the names as Mahler listed them off, there were only six. Well, seven once Waxwing was added to the bunch.

Are both sons guardians, or just Emmerich? And what about—he could not bring himself to choose between which sound it might be—your wife?

"siku is more of a trader. a learner. he helps vith hunting as vell as herbs. und my vife, she is a guardian. fierce upon the borders. she is a very good teacher." so long as one listened, but waxwing did not seem to have any limitations in that regard.
"there is a herd of elk in the southeast mountains. i vould like you to follow them, not for hunting but to know their number." it was time soon for a larger hunt.

"A herd of elk in the southeast mountains," he repeated silently in his mind. Waxwing gave a curt nod to show his affirmation of the mission. It was a fairly easy one, and it would be nice to have a way to prove his worth right from the get-go.

For now, he followed along in comfortable silence, no questions bubbling to the top of his mind.