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SOSU 415
Denver was amused at Magnolia's tactic, and he could only wonder what her ploy was. He was sure that she had been avoiding him, but instead of dwelling on it he'd spent his days focusing on his duties and keeping a more strict exercise routine. He ran daily now, and his muscles were lean and firm on his petite frame. He did not possess immense bulk, but his strength was still comparable to those who did. Besides, Denver was fast when he wanted to be, and was not afraid to perform some of these more dangerous duties for the Takekuro woman. He wanted her safe, after all, and wanted himself safe as well; he figured that these security measures would be beneficial for the whole pack, and another way for him to get noticed.
The mutt had risen early that day to start the digging. He had use of an old rusted shovel that served it's purpose just fine, and by the time Maggie found him he had already dug quite a large hole. It was deep, and wide enough for one single canine's body. For this particular trap he had thought to lure their prey with prey of it's own. Denver had wrangled up a live deer and left it at the bottom of the pit, still alive but bleeding steadily. The animal made little noise, but as Denver began to work to cover up the hole to conceal it, the thing began flailing madly, kicking this way and that. He backed up at watched the beast's exertion, awed that it would spend the energy for such a useless effort. It soon lay quietly again at the bottom of the pit and Denver continued his work.
Magnolia's approach was expected, and so when he saw her face through the tree line he waved, calling her over. "Hey!" he said as she approached, setting aside the foliage and wood in his hands to run over to greet her. "Well, it's goin' alright," he admitted, standing back beside her to admire his work. The pit was half-covered and clearly unfinished, but he was proud of it nonetheless, and decided that it would be effective, even if they didn't quite catch their query. Grinning at his genius, Denver crossed his arms, the long-sleeved shirt covering his arms half rolled up from the physical strain. So far, he'd done a good job; surely she would think so, too. "Not quite done yet, but what d'ya think?"