The sight of two nonnative birds understandably made Wayne pause in his work, tilting his head skyward and lifting his hat slightly from his shaded eyes. He could only catch a glimpse of a large bird of prey that he assumed was an eagle of some kind, but there was what looked like a buzzard coming nearer. He was used to seeing the turkey vultures around the States while he’d traveled, but closer look showed that it was no species he recognized.
The Labrador mix set down the planks he’d been carrying, uncertain. The avian hadn’t been native to Nova Scotia; that much was certain, even if he couldn’t figure out what exactly he’d seen while daydreaming. They couldn’t have flown this far north on their own, and wouldn’t have, especially if they were southern species. They had to either be stupid or under someone’s ownership.
He grabbed the wood once more, shifting them against his chest, and began to walk down the road again, deciding that he would figure more out about the birds later, though they weren’t as important to him as horses or other livestock he actually knew how to raise and deal with.
The mutt didn’t have to walk for long before he spotted the birds again, and a thoughtful frown tugged at his lips as he once again tilted his head back to better see the two creatures. They were pretty large and definitely unlike anything he’d seen in the States before. “Howdy,” he began, wondering if the animals could understand him, before the scent of another wolf tugged at his attention.
“Er, howdy to you too,” Wayne said awkwardly, adjusting the wooden planks in his arms as he looked the newcomer over. She too look strange, an odd blend of black and copper. She looked like she had a few different species blended in her coat, vibrant orange stripes with dark charcoal. But the only important thing was that she smelled of Casa—even if only faintly—and so with a slight smile he gestured back toward the unsalvageable wood he’d left behind. “Would ya mind helpin’ me carry some of that? I reckon we could use it for firewood.”
Muscles bulged slightly in his arm as he adjusted all of the wooden planks to one shoulder, freeing up a hand to offer to her to shake. “Name’s Wayne McCoy. You new around these parts?” He paused and looked to her feathered friends. “And what the heck kind of birds are these?”
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