09-10-2010, 02:49 PM
Michael, having smelled enough of her to understand her scent, sat down at an angle from her--natural instinct, to keep a wider field of view for any potential hazards. He casually sniffed the air--not a smell of another predator since he got here. This truly is Watership Down to a wolf. No competition, good game, and hospitable, though naturally suspicious, wolves. One can really get used to life like this. As the moon started to rise against the sky, and the lake acted with the tides that were controlled by her presence, he looked over at Adonia before setting his head on top of his paws, casually scratching away at a tick on his snout. Wood ticks--what a terrible pest. But nothing to worry about--just regular annoyances.
Yes, indeed I was. We lived in the city proper, and it was a part of our lifestyle to forage and hunt as he had always done. We subsisted mainly on rats, some canned food. The occassional fish, if my mother ever caught one. It was a pretty good lifestyle. I don't regret it one bit.
The ebony-furred wolf then rolled on his back and started to scratch away at it, squirming on the ground like a worm.
Yes, indeed I was. We lived in the city proper, and it was a part of our lifestyle to forage and hunt as he had always done. We subsisted mainly on rats, some canned food. The occassional fish, if my mother ever caught one. It was a pretty good lifestyle. I don't regret it one bit.
The ebony-furred wolf then rolled on his back and started to scratch away at it, squirming on the ground like a worm.