Bearclaw Valley What do i do?

Rhonen found himself floundering a bit on what to do as a newly made member of Bearclaw Valley. Not because he wasn't trying, because he was. He had heeded the instructions and hunted nearly every day, frankly he was proud of how well he was learning. But he also spent time studying flowers and patrolling. But what was he really supposed to do? Was that enough?

He had only faint memories of pack life. Mostly it had been him and his family and no one else. It was hard to fully embrace it. But not for lack of trying. He was trying.

She breathed the fresh air, drinking it in as if it was a salve that could cure the soul. After being cooped up with the children for a number of hours, it felt good to catch a whiff of something that wasn’t…Well, you get the drift.

She found a melting snowbank and rolled in it, so as to lose some of the scent that might still hang on her pelt. She lay with her belly down, gritting her teeth at first at the feeling of cold on her raw teats, before the numbness began to cure the aching feeling. 

She moved to stretch her legs, hoping to find some minor distraction that might give her reason to stay out for a bit and distract her from the instinct to return to the den, when she came across the yearling who’d joined, unassociated with any others in the pack. Yearlings were always so full of promise; she was curious to see how he might shape up, and fit in. She chuffed to catch his attention, and began to make her way toward him.

Rhonen had stayed far far away from the whelping den. Only putting food nearby, never at the doorway or anything of the sort. Something his father, bless him had cautioned him against. He knew to be good, to be quiet. It was the way of things. 

He was surprised from his thoughts by the sound of a chuff and he shifted to lift his large head. Ice blues landing on the woman that came towards him. Colored in hues of brown. He lowered his head, when her scent reached him. Smelling pups and milk. This was the leader of the pack then along side the man Ancelin.

He tried to get smaller, but it was impossible. Hhhhhi. Iii'm Rhrhonen.

Ohh- She started, but before she could stop him, he'd crouched, head lowered so much that his shoulder blades stood out like twin peaks at the nape of his neck. She felt a flare of anger that she couldn't properly direct; she silently cursed whoever it was that had taught him to think he needed to bow so low, just to show respect for a leader. 

Rhonen, She said, and jutted her chin, indicating for him to raise his head. I been hopin' to meet you, She said, handing out what she hoped might be considered a bit of encouragement. I'm Ameline- Anthuhlin told me he acc-thepted you not too long ago. You been thettling in alright? She asked, wondering if he had crossed paths with his other packmates yet.

Rhonen had not been taught, not really how to be around leaders. His father had merely told him he must be deferent and show respect. And he thought he was. He should have had more lessons he supposed before he left his family. But he had been eager to try on his own. 

He gave a shy smile and dipped his head downward again, but lifted it up as she spoke to him. His eyes grew a little wide and an awestruck smile lit up his face, as he realized she had a speech problem like him. Perhaps not the same. But it was as if he had found a kindred spirit in a way. He wagged his tail. 

nininice to memeet you, Ahahameline.

He nodded his head. Trtrying. Huhunting. Tracking Border.  uh hahaven't memet mamamany.