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Every glance at the little flower outside of his den made him happy. Its yellow leaves twinkled in the sunlight, and Hemming imagined that it was pleased to have a reprieve from the rains that had been drowning out its roots in the last few days. He hadn't, in fact, had to water the lily at all, and on a few occasions the wolf had worried that the ground was too filled with water to keep the plant happy. The rain was still coming down, but in the faintest of drizzles that the wolf barely even noticed. It was nothing compared to the hard drops of the last few days, and it gave him a chance to do something he hadn't had much time to do lately. Though the happy greeting of the flower had been something that he looked forward to each morning as he stumbled out of his den, the tall wolf was worried that one day he would forget it was there and, god forbid, step upon it and break its fragile stem. For this reason, he had collected a few thick sticks, and the last time he had the opportunity he clutched a handful of little nails. There was an extra hammer and a knife, too, and he didn't feel so bad taking them from the little abandoned house.
It was quite a bit to juggle, the fat sticks, sharp nails, the worrisome blade and the heavy hammer, and Hemming carried them carefully. His Spirit Guide, a little willow flycatcher, was nestled in the fur on the top of his head, keeping a little patch of skin warm and quite dry. They walked through the tall grasses of Serena Reserve, the wolf's eyes moving across the ground in a search for a little patch of grass that wasn't completely soaked after the many days of rain. Even if this was a difficult task, Hemming was pleased that at least the grasses and little flowers seemed to be happy, their leaves and stalks sturdy with the water they had sipped from the generous soil.
At last, the AniWayan spotted a suitable patch of ground and sat down, crossing his legs and laying his things out in front of him. Dagrun seemed to just be waking up, and she peered sleepily out from the crown of the wolf's head. Something must have caught her attention, because she jumped up and flitted away with only a little cheep of warning. Perhaps, in this weather, the bugs were out and tastier than ever. It might be a good day to stretch one's wings, too. Either way, the wolf let her drift away with little thought, knowing that she would be back, though he mourned the fading of the warmth she had given.
He started his task systematically, peeling the bark off the sticks and sorting them into two piles based on their size. Hemming didn't need anything exceptionally sturdy or visually attractive, but it would be good to have a fence that was at least a little bit of each. The wolf hummed a bit as he worked, his voice drifting along the notes of a song that had no words.
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300+ Terrible delay! I'm so sorry! D:
Something about early August mornings made his body tingle with feelings of joy and enchantment. Today, Honoré felt particularly alive with energy. For nearly a week now, lousy weather had accompanied every sunrise, forcing him to postpone the one activity he truly appreciated. This morning, however, nothing would stop him from talking a healthy walk through Aniwayan lands. Admittedly, a small part of him missed Phoenix Valley, but this feeling had nothing to do with his former pack mates. His friends, the yellow-tinted chickadees, were what he missed most. The Québécois had half-expected them to follow him on his journey, to start anew by becoming members of Dawali’s tribe too! After all, it was he who had saved them from a certain death. Not to mention, he’d spent quite some time building little birdhouses just for them! But In spite of everything he’d done for them, it seemed they hadn’t loved him enough to accompany him on his journey to find a new home.
Their betrayal stung less with every passing day. Honoré now resided with his two beautiful sisters (one of which he still didn’t know about), his pea-brained yet adorable niece, and a cool leader. Surely the rest of his pack mates were just as cool. Finding them proved to be problematic though, seeing as his already defective sense of smell was rendered useless when paired with a light drizzle. Rain had wiped the lands clean of scents, leaving nothing but humidity and a fine mist shrouding the scenery. Honoré was beginning to wonder if he’d find his way back to Tayui’s den when his hazel-colored eyes found the silvery form of another; a male, obviously. He seemed to be engaged in an activity of some sort, which was enough to pique the alabaster male’s interest. Honoré shuffled a little closer, clumsily dragging both of his feet in the mud until he stood no more than three feet away.
The younger male was peeling sticks, which was an odd thing to do. But in spite of the activity's peculiarity, Honoré found himself wanting to peel sticks, too! “Oooh,” he said, his mouth forming a perfectly round circle. Was he building something? “You peel sticks to make something? I know how make houses for birds, my friends the chickadees. Yup!” he exclaimed, crouching to the floor and taking a seat next to the working male. Even at the age of six, Honoré often behaved like a child when faced with things of interest. “I’m can help? I’m can peel good, no joke.”
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[html] No worries! 
Pieces of the bark were getting under the wolf's thick nails, having been softened by the moisture that had been hanging over AniWaya for the last few weeks. Their softness made the sticks easy to peel, though, and Hemming did it happily. As another AniWayan approached, the dusky wolf's gaze moved up to meet him. Greetings, apparently, were not needed, as the other jumped straight into words of actual substance. The younger wolf didn't mind at all, and maybe it came as a relief. Such things like helloes often seemed rather superfluous.
Though the manner in which the other spoke may have seemed a bit odd, the things he said made the gray wolf immediately curious. Birdhouses? Hemming had never thought of making such a thing. Perhaps they would get Dagrun off of his head once and a while. She was gone for now, but it was a rare reprieve from her constant presence. It wasn't that he disliked having her around, of course, but surely there was a patch of fur that was permanently dishevelled from her little talons. Perhaps that was the price of having such a companion.
With a sparkle in his eye, Hemming grinned as the other sat beside him. It was nice to have company while one worked, especially if it was a repetitive task. And, even better, the other offered his assistance! "I'd love some help!" Hemming exclaimed as he clutched a handful of sticks and placed them in front of the cream coloured wolf. "I'm putting the bigger sticks in that pile," he pointed to the two sticks that sat together, not much of a pile but getting there, "and the smaller ones in that one. I'm making a little fence, to go around a flower." It sounded a little silly to explain what he was making out loud, because it was just a single flower that he wanted to protect, but it was the truth. It was quite a special flower, after all.
Though the male enjoyed the challenge of larger projects, he also revelled in the smaller, simpler things. Kites remained one of his favourite things to make, because they combined the skill of woodworking with the patience of weaving. Birdhouses seemed like a pleasant challenge, and as he continued to peel a stick Hemming looked up to the other and said, "Could you show me how to make a bird house, some day?"
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