dinner for one [open]

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» Water rushed over the rocks that gave this delta its name. The transition of the water would astonish the first time viewer. It raced over those rocky outcrops with the joyous innocence of water that started it's journey as ice melt. Only moments later it collides catastrophically with the ocean, which had crept and wound its way over the land already, constantly trying to take back a few more of the creatures that had escaped its depths. Where the fresh water met the ocean water the two differing temperaments caused instant stagnation. Water that had fled mountains or traversed the endless seas were suddenly caught among the confusion, rocks, and fallen trees. Boredom made it treacherous - as the tide went in and out, mud pits, large underwater snags, and occasional flash flood meant the waters of the delta were treacherous at best. Other times they were down right deadly. Despite the dangers, it was still a land of plenty. Fish loved the brackish waters, and salmon and smaller fish a like traversed the clearer streams to reach their breeding pools deeper into the mountains. In the fall, when most other animals began to worry about the coming bareness of winter, the Delta Pack feasted.   » Tree Rat crouched at the edge of a large boulder partially submerged in a stream. Water cascaded quickly past him, equally ignorant of the death that stood above it as it was of the life that charged through against its current. Salmon flashed between the fronds of plant life, more massive than many would think possible.  The large, three foot ones are too big for this small stream. as they swim powerfully upstream the hard sail of their upper fins leave a clear track of ripples in the water. Tree Rat, a wolf in mixed shades of grey, tan, and dark brown, waited patiently. Soon the perfect fish would pass before him, but any extra movement or sound now would ruin the thirty minutes he had already spent waiting. Other wolves mocked the Delta Pack for depending so heavily on fish, which was hardly proper food for a wolf. Well, let them risk their teeth and bones trying to kill elk and moose. That was only rough brutality, unschooled. Fishing required grace, patience, confidence. » For once the male was not covered by the mud that coated most of his domain. That was mostly because of the swim he had made to the rock, but it still left him looking sleek and handsome. He was built for this, long legged and lean, perfect for slipping in and out of the water with as little sound as possible. Not that it really mattered  how loud he was when he got in the water. Suddenly, he tensed, muscles that had been at rest to long screaming in protest as he launched into the air in a mighty leap. The salmon that was his target would have sensed hesitation, instantaneous action was required. His front paws slammed into the slightly chill water, missing the main body of the fish but tearing off part of his back fin. Immediately the wolf left into a run, tracking down the injured fish until he could snap him up in his jaws. It thrashed violently, so large it almost knocked Rat off of his feet. Quickly Tree Rat hopped pack up on his boulder and dropped the salmon far away from the edge. A quick bite to the head killed the creature and then it was time to eat. For a moment he paused, heart filling with sadness. Once this would have been the time for him to call out, and bring pups and young wolves running to share his kill. Later he would have caught another to take back to the elders. Now, he only needed to catch one fish to feed the pack. » Open to everyone!

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[Swoop]


"Aaaa- AAGHHH!" 

Swoop could not believe this. One minute ago- one minute- she had been dry, relatively clean, and with dignity intact. But no longer, she thought as she viciously ripped her paw back from the grip of the swampy muck. Now she was more brown than white, and where she wasn't covered in mud and water she was stiflingly hot, the thick northern fur that had previously been an aid now threatening to suffocate her. That is, if she didn't drown in swampwater first.

She crouched at the water's edge, panting a little. This was pathetic. She didn't know what she had been thinking, coming here. Swoop stood up carefully, minding the treacherous swamp in front of her. Unfortunately, she forgot to think about the wet rocks behind. Her hind paws hit the slick surface as she began to back up, unbalancing her and sending her toppling forward into the water.

She hit the murky surface with a string of expletives, which got more and more creative as she thrashed around in the swamp water, trying to regain her footing. 

When Swoop finally got her paws under her, she was entirely brown, sticky, and dripping wet- though she supposed begrudgingly that she wasn't cooking under her fur anymore. That wasn't enough to stop her from snarling colorful language as she fought her way out onto the bank, though.

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» Rich fat coated the wolf's black lips and he tore into the salmon. The best mean was right below the skin, where fat deposits get the fish warm on their ocean treks. That same fat would keep him warm this winter. Not to mention, it was incredibly delicious. As he ate, the salmon's egg sac tore, spilling bright ruby beads across the boulder and dripping into the water. Eagerly he lapped them up, savoring their saltiness. He wasn't the only one that loved some good fish eggs, either. Smaller, silver fish darted out from underneath rocks to nibble at the ruby spheres. A great blue heron, drawn by the flickers of silver under the water glided to a halt nearby, settling into the water with calm precision that Tree Rat admired. There was not finer fisher than a heron. The large bird stepped through the water without leaving so much as a ripple, his long neck bobbing forward occasionally to snap a fish out of the water. Every time, with out fail, with utter grace. Rat longed to be like that heron, and he even stopped eating for a moment to stare. It still felt a little wrong, lusting after herons. It had been his brother's name, his brother's path. His was the path of the squirrel. But if the Heron was gone did the Squirrel have to remain a squirrel?   » There was something in that thought, some important thread that he desperately needed to ponder. Tree Rat wasn't quick with ideas. Sometimes it could take him days to make a decision as simple as which salmon pool was the best. That tardiness of thought and action was not a good trait in an alpha. Heron had always been ready for action. Why, he hardly had to hear the particulars of the matter before he had a plan and was rushing madcap out the door. Wasn't that what had gone wrong with the bears though? A great hullabaloo of yelling and splashing broke Tree Rat's fragile concentration. What in the world? Not even a bear would rampage around that loud, just in case there was a bigger bear nearby. Was it a deer, somehow injured and sinking into the mud? Now that would make a good meal. The wolf stood slowly, easily stretching out the muscles he has just used. He started to leap into the water but paused at the last moment and scooped up the remainder of the salmon. Food was to valuable to just leave around, and swimming with a mouthful of fish could make breathing pretty hard. » Instead of launching headfirst into the water, he skirted the edges of the bank. While the surface of the ground was covered in pebbles, there was mud right underneath that would at the very least get you very dirty. Normally Tree Rat accepted that he looked like some swamp monster summoned from the depths of a very dirty hell, but actually being clean for once was pretty nice. Large, slick boulders were dotted throughout both the water and the mud. If he was very careful he might be able to make it around to where those noises were coming from with out getting a drop of mud on him. Skill level awesome. Pounce, to leap, to step, and onward he went around the bend until he found a nice, flat rock to sit on and watch. A snarling, snapping river monster covered in thick river mud was hauling itself out of its cave, come to steal away some bunnies and eat them. Either that or a very foolish wolf had made several very foolish decisions. The truest mirth he had known in months began to bubble up through his body. At first he tried valiantly to with hold his laughter. Then he lost. Loud, good-natured laughter exploded out of his throat as he took on a very relaxed pose with the salmon half-forgotten by his side. He even sat, one leg cocked. His grey ears were so relaxed they were almost horizontal and a massive grin hung off his face. The wolf, it was a female by the scent of her, wasn't doing that bad of a job so he decided to give out a little encouragement. "Don't worry! I've had to crawl my way up that bank more than once." He paused, an abstracted look glazing his dark gold eyes. "'Course, it was a bit more age appropriate for me to be crawling, at the time."

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[Swoop]


The she-wolf aimed a frigid glare at the stranger howling with laughter on the bank opposite her. The effect was lessened a considerable amount by the muck dripping into her mouth when she bared her teeth at him, making her cough and splutter a bit and her mood generally worsen.


"I don't need your help, river rat," she snapped.


With much swearing and growling, she managed to slog her way onto the bank where she flopped onto her belly, but not before casting a shrewd look at the male. He was a lean thing, and besides, he seemed content to sit on his rock and laugh. Swoop aimed another show of teeth at him before turning her attention to her fur. Oh, her fur. She looked... well, she looked a bit like a bigger version of the male, a sort of cross between a wolf and some kind of ancient, primeval river monster. She halfheartedly licked at the muck condensed on her forelegs. Blech. The mud tasted awful, warm and soupy, and a bit like the smell of the algae found in the stagnant ponds around here. Like the one she had just been mucking about in. Swoop suppressed a shudder of distaste.

"You. I don't suppose you could catch your breath a minute and tell me where I could get this slop out of my ears?" The last remark was directed at her companion on the rock. He smelled of this place, of the water and in turn of the soaked foliage that surrounded it, and so she guessed he knew the area. Of course, there was so much mud up her nose it was all she could smell. He could be from the moon and she wouldn't have any idea. He didn't look like such a bad sort, despite his amusement at her current state. Swoop forcibly shook her head to dislodge the thought. She didn't know where on earth she had come up with such a thing. The last time she had decided to trust a total stranger had landed her an interestingly- shaped scar on her shoulder when said stranger had decided to jump her in the middle of the night. Had river mud gotten in her brain? Wouldn't be surprising- she had it just about everywhere else. She made sure to send an extra-potent glare at the male. "Well?" 

The sooner she was clean, the better. Then she could be done with this swamp and out of it as fast as possible.

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»The she-wolves snapping and retorts probably weren't meant to make Tree Rat laugh even harder, but he could hardly contain it. A river rat he might be, It was a Tree Rat he was named. "You're close actually! The name's Tree Rat." The wolf struggled out or the river flopping on a bank made of mud and rock. She immediately started trying to clean the mud out of her fur. Uh, hello, you're living in a land of mud. Rat rolled his dark gold eyes. If he let this creature wander around his lands without help she'd be dead before nightfall. Earlier if the grizzly bears got her first. Carefully he lipped the flaky, fragile remains of the salmon carcass into his tan-rimmed mouth before plunging eagerly into the water. In those moments when he got to sweim while  not hunting he was the happiest. There was something incredibly joyous about splashing around mud and water. It was less joyous by yourself though, so he quickly made his way tot he bank the she-wolf lay on. In a matter of moments he was up the tricky bank - covered in no more mud than perpetually tinged his already dark grey and brown coat.   »  The wolf kept his distance at first. While he was a fine, good-natured wolf raised with manners, there was no guarantee that this stranger was cut from the same bolt of cloth. After all, she was an intruder on the the Delta Pack's lands. He dropped the salmon and had started to open his mouth to admonish her for this when she complained about mud in her ears. Mud in the ears was an absolutely horrible affliction. All gross and sludgy - plus you could hardly hear anything. Rat couldn't let a wolf go on feeling even that slight amount of discomfort. He snapped his mouth shut and turned to rummage among the lichens and mosses that surrounded the bank of the river. Luckily, the season had been dry, so it was easy to find a good chunk of moss that was desperate for moisture. He clawed up a couple clumps and held them delicately in his mouth as he took a few steps closer to the other wolf, wrinkling his nose at the musty smell of decaying rabbit they let off. Oh, the smells of the swamp. » "Here, shove some of this in your ears." As he dropped the moss balls even he had to admit that that was a crazy idea. The looked absolutely disgusting. "I know it's gross but it'll dry up the moisture and you'll just have regular old dirt to shake out of your ears." Friendliness all taken care of, Tree Rat took a few steps back and stood up straighter.  He was the alpha of this land, even if he was an alpha of land. It was his duty to protect all who lived within it - namely himself. Now. What is your name and what is your business with the Delta Pack? These are our - my - hunting lands." Damn. It was still so hard for him to remember that he was the alpha and not the beta. He had to remember to be more commanding.