Fishing... (Anyone welcome!)

[Santo]

The soft crashing of water echoed inside of the arctic wolf's ears. He was close, the water within his reach. The Arctic's cream colored body really made it hard to hunt for any prey on land, bringing the question, why wasn't the arctic in the north. No one really knew why he had such hate against the Greater North pack, to tell the truth, he really didn't either. Being told lies of that pack by his alpha at a young age, almost made it instinct to hate them. But not that Santo would try to do anything about it, the northern pack wasn't bothering him, so why should he take action. That was his philosophy, if it's not your problem, why get involved?

Soon his gray eyes spotted the sandy beach. Since he had no camouflage in the open areas, fishing was a good option. Coming to the area the wolf's sharp eyes scanned the area quickly, making sure there were no territorial wolves around. Smoothly, light cream paws carried the male across the sand. Once he was to the water, he looked about the water, maybe there were some fish toward the shore. Or not, Santo slowly walked bit by bit into the water, then he coat the movement of a good sized fish. Slowly Santo moved around it, so he was facing the shore. Then he lunged, snapping at the fish, and the the sides of it. The only option for the fish was to swim toward shore. After a bit of snapping and swimming, the fish was a bit stuck in the shallow water. Perfect, just as the male planned. Walking to the stuck fish, Santo snatched it up, and came back to the shore.

Shaking off slightly, his heavy coat swayed back and forth, water dribbling off. Moving to a drier area of the beach, Santo lied down, fish under his front paws. Then his ivory teeth sunk into the meat, pulling a small chunk out and chewing it. Santo carefully look around then back out the the plentiful ocean.

"Grazie oceano, per il pesce" Santo said emotionlessly to himself.

[Darkduskk]

Croue had taken refuge beneath a near-dead bush. A small bundle of black fur tucked away in the spiny twigs and stabbing leaves. Her time there had gone uninterrupted for numerous hours, and after thinking over what she might do with herself, she assumed she'd take the peace and sleep while she could. Limbs tucked against her stomach and tail laid over her snout, she was warm in this chilly terrain. Comfortable even. And sleep was good, dreams came of a life that may or may not have been hers once, though only bits of it, and she never saw herself - which only caused her to wonder if this was just something she had wished for. She called the river Mother now, and that was all the family she needed.

It was to the sound of splashing water that she woke. The sound all too familiar to her as her mind played a slide show of a near death incident. A startled yelp squeezed through her throat as she jumped to tiny paws, ready to flee for her life. Even standing, only her ears showed through the tops of the brown, bush leaves. Then she saw the Artic just a few meters off and her heart throbbed against her rib cage in fear. He was huge, nearly twice, if not more, her size. Then again, most wolves were - she hadn't seen many in her young age though.

Panic overcame her. She certainly had plenty of places to run to - struck in awe and fright however, she could not move; only stare through the sparse branches at this other, jowls ajar in young ignorance.

[Santo]

As the male continued him meal he stopped in a split second. Creamy ears raised up, gray eyes scanning for something. He smelt something... a mutt. Usually Santo would brush this off, but he was having his first good meal in a while of traveling. Just to be sure the stranger wasn't after the fish, he was going to check it out. Sharp gray eyes looked about as Santo walked, just to be sure no one was sneaking out to steal his fish. Creamy fur blew softly as wind blew toward him, good, he was downwind.

As the water continued to crash, Santo walked, a small dead bush in his sight. So this was where the little one was hiding. Santo slowly came slightly closer, he was smart enough to not charge into a situation. Maybe he could get the canine to come forward, then maybe he could tell if it was going to steal his fish. From living in solitude for around a year, only watching others, he learned to tell personality by movements and reading lips. But how to talk to this one? Maybe he would scare her away or get attacked. But the cross obviously wasn't too large, hiding in such a bush. Santo glared slightly, holding his head up with dominance, he was the big dog in this situation.

"Dire tou nome..." Santo paused, he realized the cross wouldn't understand his old pack's language. "I mean, state your name and come forward." San stated with no emotion to it.

[Darkduskk]

'Move...move..move...' all she could do was think, and that was all she could think. Willing her limbs to shift - any direction would do. He'd caught her scent and now he was coming for her. She couldn't imagine what he'd want. Maybe that fish just wasn't to his taste. Other wolves didn't prey on each other did they? She'd been chased off by a good many, but never was she threatened to be eaten. Then again, to many, she wasn't considered wolf - and to more still, she wasn't coyote.

As he started to near her, Croue whined. Her tail instinctively tucking away. It was obvious he'd found her. The bush was no proper hide-away. And then he spoke in a tongue that had never been heard by her ears. That masculine voice without feeling, it sent a chill down her back and caused her hackles to raise. Retreating from his monstrous form and that cold voice, she stumbled backward out of the branches of the dead shrub. But why couldn't she run? It had come so naturally every other time. What was wrong with her?

When he spoke in common tongue, her ears fell back, half expecting his words to be hostile. When the syllables of each word formed though, and the words took meaning in her mind, she sat promptly. Eyes fixed on the stony beach beneath her, head lowered in submission. It took her a few moments to find her vocal chords, but she finally managed to speak her name in a voice trembling with fright; "Croue."