New Lands, New Faces [J]

Wayne McCoy · 04-24-2012, 08:58 AM

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509
Awesome! Another new person. Big Grin
Wayway is a grumpypants, but don't let him scare ya off. x3

Wayne had been making more progress with his snares. Everything he made was still inelegant and worked more because of flukes than his skill, but slowly the fishing line tangles and traps caught more and more prey. Setting and checking the snares was something else to do—on top of feeding and grooming and riding and training the horses, patrolling, offering advice and reporting to the Guida, mentoring, and staying on top of events within and without the pack. Needless to say, this new self-imposed duty did not help his stress.

He went along the rabbit track to check his traps, finding nothing on the first three, the last a mess of fur and blood and bones that suggested someone had found it before him. He growled until the smell of stoat, and he gathered up the trap to put somewhere else. Shoving the tangled wire in his jeans pocket, he walked onward.

What he needed to do was get away from all of this for a while, but the Labrador mongrel knew that catching up on his duties after an absence would cause even more stress. Only the thought of Dixie-May and the expedition they’d promised kept him sane in moments like these, and he sighed as he stopped and regarded the trees. He would have to get used to it, or delegate some responsibilities to the new, promising members of the pack. It wasn’t as if he was going to recover from his workaholic nature anytime soon.

A yapping cry made him look up, his brows meeting. The call could only come from a smaller canine—a coyote, most likely. His father was in his head again, lamenting the loss of some of their livestock from one of the thieving brutes, but he pushed that image away and chose to think of Ithiel, instead. Coyotes were not just thieves in the south, and they weren’t even just Infernians.

He let out a doggish howl to let the caller know he was coming, and then he made his way toward the border. It would’ve been faster on horseback, and usually he was ahorse when going on patrols, but he hadn’t expected yet another stranger already. They seemed to have an influx of new members these days—not that he was complaining.

The other appeared sooner than he expected, perhaps a little over the scent markers. His brow furrowed disapprovingly, but Wayne knew there was no clear-cut dividing line such as a fence or the fort walls. He stopped, thrusting his hands in his pockets and lifting his chin as he looked the coyote over. He wasn’t remarkable—smallish and colored like most of his species, even if that was interesting compared to all the hybrids in the northern clan—but the case grabbed his attention somewhat. A violin, he knew; the Sole had one himself.

“What brings ya to Casa di Cavalieri’s borders?” the Sinistra asked in his usual drawl, brown eyes fixing on the other’s. He remained somewhat tense, imposing his dominance only subtly on the loner.

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