A Morning Stroll

[Bandersnatch]

The paths of Arnlan seemed to twist and turn in all directions, but the seeming difficulty of navigation would not to effect the she-wolf that traveled them. She knew no other way of life. This was her home, and she shared the affection that so many of the wolves of the pack had for their surroundings. Affection, and a deep-rooted silent respect, similarly felt toward their Alphas; the pair that were like midnight, who were one with their surroundings, the ones who knew and saw all.
Crow's jaw hung loose, and the tip of her tongue flickered then out between her lower canines. Her lips were curled into a joyous smile and her ears were held loosely back. Today she had not been assigned duties, and so had decided to marvel in her surroundings. She continued to trot along the winding paths, a slurry of mud and half-melted snow. Her legs swung in a graceful arch, leaving delicate casts of each step, which would be quickly swept away with the next spring shower. The wing-like markings which graced her shoulders appeared odd with these movements, a wing being forward one at a time, a bird swimming rather than sweeping flight.
The season was not reflected in the morning landscape, the land seeming an eternal winter. But the damp soil smelt of life (though it gave birth to little) to Crow, yes - that smell that announced the arrival and departure of rain. A light mist veiled the land, detected only by its softening of stark outlines of the dark wood.
Perhaps today she would spend time in the company of her fellow packmates. So unfortunate, she reflected lightly Such solitary creatures. She treated her packmates with a maternal kindness, and of them she was deathly protective. But so often, and on occasion frustratingly, it seemed the wolves simply preferred to stay singular. The day, it seemed to her, had a pleasance that would best be shared in the fellowship of another. Perhaps she should find one of the many that had recently been granted a position in the pack.

Crow slowed her pace as the sounds of trickling water greeted her ears. She veered from her course toward the sound.
She came to a small river ran lazily through the woods, etched lightly into its marshy banks. Leaving fresh prints in the thick mud, she dipped her muzzle in the water. After taking a deep gulp of water, she swept her head back up. Exhaling, a barely audible ‘ahhh’ from slipped from the back of her throat and past her lips. The water was icy, but refreshing. She brushed her tongue over her muzzle, collecting the droplets of moisture that still hung from her maw. Suddenly, there was a crackling of long-dead leaves from behind her. Crow’s attention snapped in the noises’ direction. It startled her; the wind blew past her in the direction of whatever shuffled above, and she had picked up a scent much to late for it to be of use. She tilted her head to the side, curiously perking her ears. Perhaps she wouldn’t need to search for others.

[akisame]

A dark pink tongue rolled across a gash on a wolf's shoulder. Dried blood stained the dull gray fur that coated the male's body. Coal black eyes shifted on the objects around him watching for any movment. The wolf would hate it for someone to find him wounded. A growl escaped him as he thought of his younger half sibling. She had attacked him, and wounded his shoulder. It diffinatly wasn't the Aki he knew. She was soo kind, yet maybe she just got sick of being treated like dirt. He brushed the thought away as he continued to lick his wound. Slowly he pulled himself up onto his paws. That night on their reunion was burned into his memory, the gash on his shoulder will turn to a scar leaving it there as a reminder.

ArchAngel slinked through the trees, He held his right paw up so not to put pressure on it. Even with a limp however not a noise escaped him. It was better that way, no noise, just silence. That was all he needed. Nothing else nothing more. A black raven silhouette was palced on his face, the wings outstretching over his eyes like a mask. Crimson fur was plastered on his legs in the numbers 666. Any religious wolf would understand the meaning of that, of course maybe get confused with the black cross that was placed neatly on his back. The mist that clouded the area was perfect coverage for him. Not to mention the already gray forest was enough to match his pelt.

Ears twitched gently hearing the sound of water. The river was near, but he did not bother to head that way. The river meant packmembers would be off drinking he did not want to go out there. I don't need some fool tending to my wound, or getting all worked up. ArchAngel dug at the ground rustling some leaves. He eased himself on his side and left his wound up in sight if others to pass by. No not for a sympathy case, he couldn't afford it getting infected. The scent of a member entered his nose but he ignored it. Knowing my luck whoever it is will find me... He growled again truely not liking this fact. Why did Tor and Fenris put me on this planet....?

[Bandersnatch]

The breeze had quietly shifted direction, so that the smells of the other drifted down to Crow’s nose. She inhaled deeply, letting them in, absorbing the information they offered. The scent of stale blood mingled with that of one who had still not completely absorbed the essences of the land. A newcomer. She had only met one other, but she could tell this was not him. Perhaps this new one would provide some company. The she-wolf turned toward the direction of the breeze. It played teasingly with her fur, billowing it about, egging her on. Despite the slippery appearance of the murky banks, the she-wolf managed to climb them with ease, delicately flicking mud from her paws with each step.

Her nose was held out as she followed it, ears perked high in curiosity, swiveling about with each minute noise. Her pawsteps seemed muted, seeming to subconsciously avoid each crackling dead leaf that were scattered about here and there. The smell of blood and newcomer grew stronger. From what she could tell, the blood was most likely wolf, though it was still unclear if it belonged to the wolf ahead, or if they carried the blood of another. Crow slunk silently onward, body held with care in caution of the possibility of the later.
The rain had started. Each droplet was so fine, that en mass they swirled, floating gently in the wind. Crow paid no mind as the tiny droplets perched upon the top of her coat, nowhere near weighty enough to break through it. Raindrops of this size would have posed no bother to even a human. They cast themselves among the trees, thickening the mist, laying across the land, nestling amongst the ebony tree trunks as if the clouds had come down to greet the ground.
She was almost upon the foreign one now. The blood, it seemed, indeed belonged to the male. Her walking pace rolled into a trot, interrupted now and then by a lithe bound over any low-hanging branches that crossed her path, a strong sense of empathy driving her on. Perhaps she could be of assistance?

Suddenly, her motion ceased. He was just ahead, sheltered from view for now by the fog and the trees. The femme raised her head slightly, her tail to match. Even if he proved to be more aged than herself, she still held seniority in this pack. She sauntered forward nimbly, drifting through the mist, silently announcing her presence.
The wind ruffled her pelt. The large tuft of fur that cascaded over her right eye seemed to float on the air current. She held her head to the side, studying the other with her uncovered eye. “More strange markings.” she noted in her thoughts, remembering those that had graced Dante’s coat. Though he was reclined, she could tell he was much her superior in size. Every ounce of him gave off an air of annoyance, but it didn’t prevent her from eyeing off the wound across his shoulder. She paused, a few feet from him, in wait for his reaction.

[akisame]

The mist was getting heavier. Good, I'll be less visable.. He thought blankly, hoping his King and Queen, Karolek and Sofika would not see him like this. The last thing he'd want is to look weak and helpless. Another growl errupted from his thorat as he continued to lick his aching wound. Even though it was begining to crust over it still sting, physically and emotionally. ArchAngel felt a wet thunk on his maw and looked up to the clouded sky. A faint sprinkle was being casted from the heavens. The wind shifted and the wolf knew his scent would be carried to another's not to mention more of the falling rain. However he could rule out the rain bothering him much, it will clense his pelt from the dried blood.

The male's acute hearing caught the faint sounds of paws hitting the ground. Great they must of smelled me... Bitterness ringing in his mind. Craning his neck he shifted so he could look at a better angle for the one who was approaching him. A left paw pushed him against the cold bark of the tree, though his thick fur kept out the cold. His onyx eyes spotted a silhouette forming in the mist. After a few mere seconds he made out the figure. A female of the pack. One he did not know. Then again he did not know many perffering to be on his own in silence. What is she going to do... Try and nurse me back to health... He spat out of red liquid. Blood. I might as well die here.... Get rid of my shame, for being hurt.

As the she-wolf continued to come closer to him he could make out her markings, but he did not say a word. A searing pain shot up his shoulder and he snapped his attention back to his wound. Arch released the pressure he held on his right leg. He would not talk to this female. If she was smart she'd just leave him be, even if the fatal started up a conversation it was highly unlikely he'd speak, not even a name would escape his sealed lips. Labia slowly curled giving him a menacing appearance, Arch didn't want to be messed with. Any insults of laughter might want to be held back now. The male's pride was hurt, and he didn't want anyone scarring it more.

[Bandersnatch]

Her ears pressed back flat against her skull. What did he think he was doing, flashing his teeth at her? She posed no threat. More than that; she had been here as long as she could remember, and he, by the scent of it, had only been a pack member for a substantially shorter time. He was yet to prove himself to their Alphas. He did not appear menacing to her; after all, he was sprawled out on the ground before her. Her own lips curled back, and her teeth glinting in the low light. But instead of a low grumbling growl, she clicked her tongue in a ‘tut tut’ fashion, as if scolding a misbehaving pup. Even if he didn’t want assistance, now that he was a member of the pack it was the duty of the pack to look out for him.

Crow had thought nothing less of him because of his affliction. Injury was simply inevitable, in her eyes. One would not go through life without injury of some sort. Her eyes passed again over the wound. Large game were not a common sight in Arnlan, and she doubted any rabbit could inflict this much damage. Another wolf? Regardless, it was not as if she’d get an answer, even if she tried to ask. The male seemed agitated enough as it was, without her attempts at language.
It did not matter much to her if he chose not to talk. Stating his name would have been the polite thing to do, of course, but he seemed to think himself beyond politeness. It did not matter if he asked no questions, for she was not in a state for answering them. Or, rather, she could not answer. She was voiceless, a mute.

The female stepped forward, again bringing herself closer to the other. She was practically standing over him now, right in range if he chose to lash out. Her limbs had tensed slightly in case she needed to move back quickly. Surely he would not attack, even if it was just in fear of being cast out from the pack’s ranks? She lowered her head, sniffing gently at the wound. As predicted, no smell of game creatures. Staying still, hovered over the gash, her eyes flickered back to the males face. Would he continue to threaten?

[akisame]

((Tears hair out for loosing track. Sorry))

ArchAngel watched as the she-wolf continued to creep closer to him. He was in no mood to be meeting with another member of Arnlan. His pride was damanged as much as his shoulder. Being attacked by ones own sibling was enough to do such. Especially when one thought they were kind and forgiving and instead have them lash out at you. Of course it was evitable. For all the things he had done, selfishly for himself it was only a matter of time before his half-kin Aki had, had it. However his coal orbs were focused on the wolf at hand. Her actions were not appreciated.

The male wanted to be in his own solitude, to think to himself. Oh the eyes can say allot for one. Memories acting like the presence in his mind. Oh how his father and his other "siblings" had laughed at what he thought. They did not say it, but he could see it in their eyes, their actions. The pack did not like his ideas, so why should he share with others even with this new pack. Why should he left the female tend to him. He could take care of himself. However with his poor knowledge in medical fields it was most likely he'd get an infection and die. The hot moist breath hit his wound and he held back the searing pain that shot up it. Instead he clenched his jaws and let her inspect it.

Lashing out would only cause more problems something ArchAngel didn't need. Something he didn't want. The hawk masked brute kept his lips curled, in a warning that if she did anything stupid he would get angry... well at least more then he already is. Or maybe he wasn't angry. Yeah that's a poor word to use. Confused and wounded. Mentally and physically. Yeah that was the best way to put it. The dried blood on his fur had filled his sense of smell, and he shook his head lightly resting it on his paws, letting her tend to his wound. What help could he do for himself.

A wolf without any idea on how to heal injuries was pretty useless. The only thing that came to him was instinct, and that told him to lick it clean, and make sure it scabed over nicely so no infections would enter his body and into his bloodstream. Then poison his blood and make him die a slow death.

[Bandersnatch]

(‘sok )


Crow’s muzzle stayed hovered above the male’s wound as she watched his expression for signs of reaction, be it retaliation or acceptance. Whatever thoughts that drifted through his head he did not share them. He had made no vocalization of any kind. The female had never seen another who had shared her condition, and so assumed that he simply did not wish to speak to her. It was clear he did not want her there in the first place. She was almost surprised when he lay his head upon his paws, leaving her to do as she wished.
Her form became limber once more, her posture relaxing. Though he was still tense, perhaps still in contempt of her actions, it seemed he would not harm her for the invasion of his personal space after all.

His warning of bared teeth forgotten, her attention returned to his wound. She was not exactly an expert in healing either. She had little knowledge, for example, of medicinal herbs. It would have done no good, anyway; the dark, twisted trees of Arnlan blocked most of the light of the sun, casting great black shadows across the ground. Little would grow in the dim by the trunks of the trees, and even less survived under the blankets of snow that so often covered the land. Flushing the wound of impurities in the icy stream - that would be a good option. Her eyes drifted back toward his face, though now it was obscured in her view as he faced away. …Or not. With how he had reacted to her, she doubted that he would follow any of her prompts.
Regardless, it seemed the brute had had enough sense to avoid getting the wound dirty. It would be best that the wound was cleared of any debris it had gathered, and for now the best thing to do…
The femme leaned forward, her nose almost reaching the male’s dull silver fur. The pressure of her tongue was firm but yet gentle as it swept across the male’s flesh. She worked from the center of the injury outwards, so that whatever had gathered on the laceration would be pushed outward. After some time of these actions had past, all but the edges remained. Her tongue flickered against his pelt, lifting away the bits of rehydrated stale blood, residual saliva making his fur stand up in awkward tufts. Her eyes traveled as she continued. Maternal instinct had before overcome her, but had now eased enough for her to study the larger wolf’s appearance out of the corners of her eyes. The red mark upon his flank stood out starkly against his grey coat, a curiosity. It seemed unnatural. Maybe, as Dante’s had, these marks hinted at an unusual past? Crow flickered her ears about, chasing away invisable flies. It was not her place to know, unless he chose to tell her. And by his previous actions, that was highly unlikely.

[akisame]

The feeling of a tongue rolling across his wound was somewhat relaxing, but he still his body was tense. Arch watched the she-wolf out of the corner of his eyes scanning over her markings. The large wing shadows on her shoulders reminded him of the marking on his face he had seen when peering into the water. The silhouette of a bird outstretched over his face, wings covered his eyes. Uneasily his lips uncurled but his eyes never lifted. Even a packmate could turn on another, a lesson he had learned long ago. However situations like that often raised questions in the brute's mind. Like why in the world did Tor and Fenris, give wolves the ability to hate and betray?

As she finished licking his wound he shifted, in the pile of dead leaves that seemed to make a nest underhim. ArchAngel's ears rotated hearing the river as he finally let the nose around him come to his senses. The wolf's throat was bitterly dry and slowly and carefully he lifted himself up on all fours. The Arnlan wolf before him was raising questions in his mind. Why does she not talk? Is something wrong with her? Some of the wolves he met had been quite talkactive and annoying. Limping off he began to make a slow tread towards the cool water that would quench his thirst

Ebony orbs gazed back at the female filled with wonder on what she was going to do. At least she hadn't done anything suspecious, and only helped him. Not that he needed it. He could have cleaned his wound on his own. His tail swayed as he now wondered what her name was. Why should I care? This kindness is probably just an act. He thought bitterly. Yeah, that's probably exactly what it is... Poor thoughts from an pessimestic mind. Finally the water was in sight, as it cascaded down the rocks that were scattered about in the liquid. Coming to a slow halt at the edge his right paw touching the icey water. Leanign forward his tongue slid out of his maw like a snake's. When his throat no longer burned and ache he retrated back to the grass unknowing of what he was going to do.

The male was still ashamed, that he was injuried. It only proved how weak he was to the Alphas. Or so he thought. They porbably already knew, with there all seeing eyes all over Arnlan. He growled to himself in frustration, then plomped down on his haunches in deep thought. So many things were happening at once, and yet he kept living in the past, never entering the bright future he could have if he actually opened his eyes and looked around. If that would ever happen. Arch knew happiness was a foolish emotion, something that tricked the mind, then fled when the real truth appeared.

[Bandersnatch]

As she licked away the minute traces of blood that had attached itself to her own maw, the she-wolf moved back as the male shifted, making space for him to get back up on his feet. She had eventually noticed the unfurling of his lips and she felt some gladness that he had at least somewhat recognized she meant no harm. But still, he had simply got up and moved on.

Her head tilted curiously as his form shifted into the darkness, back toward the water. The wolves of the pack were often secretive and closed in, and to this she was accustomed with, but he took it to extremes. Though he seemed less tense by the time she had finished grooming his wound, not a word had passed. Though in a way this made things less complicated on her part, she still felt curiosity tainted, perhaps, with a tinge of frustration that she had not even been rewarded with a name for her efforts. Still, this was not the reason that had driven her to tend to his wounds. It was for the same reason that she couldn’t help but feel empathy toward the grey wolf’s slow, hobbling gait.

She followed behind him, though giving distance between, so that the large male stayed at the edge of her line of vision. He probably wouldn’t approve of nor appreciate her relentless attentions and ongoing concern to him. All that was currently on her mind was to watch him, even if it was only a few moments, just to check on his condition, to convince herself that he was fine and that she could move on. Didn’t it seem that was what he wanted? But as she watched his limp, she couldn’t help but wonder how his hunting skills would be affected. Even if he could manage, straining such an injury could be hazardous.

The noises of swirling water caught her ears, releasing the dark-hued femme from her thoughts. At the edges of the gnarled trees she twitched her tail about, perching herself slowly upon her hindquarters. She watched silently as the male finished quenching his thirst, reclining herself down as he settled himself on the grass. Her forelimbs gently outstretched in front of her, her ears perked inquisitively toward him. How long would he rest here? What would he do next?

[akisame]

ArchAngel looked back at the female who followed him. He rolled his eyes but it couldn't be seen. WHat was this wolf doing? Did she think of him as some sad case? He was not going to be treated like that. Shouldn't she be caring about herself? Go hunt or something. Now that he thought about it. He was begining to get hungry himself. He could feel his stomach clawing at his insides. It didn't matter, he should rest and go hunt later, but the aching in his belly was something he couldn't ignore. Pulling himself up once more on all fours he was careful not to but too much strain on his shoulder, for that would lead to disaster. No. Instead he lifted his right paw and tucked it up towards his chest.

He looked back at the female, and wondered what her name was. Perhaps he should stop being such a cold-hearted wolf and at least give her his name. He owed her that, at the very least. Cursing himself mentally for having to owe anyone. The wolf pondered on whether he should talk. It was much better to speak with actions, then to open his mouth and talk. Things were easier that way, not having to speak with others enless he really had too. Not having to share his thoughts his emotions with them. Keep them to himself without having to worry about what they thought. Not like he cared for what others thought anyway. The male took a deep breath and tol her his name.

"My name is... ArchAngel."

He said, and that was all he was going to say. His words were in a monotone voice, not filled with feelings or anything like that. It had no tone, nothing to depict it from others. Turning around the wolf limped off to try and find something slow and easy to catch with his disability at the moment. WOuld the she-wolf follow him? Would she try to help him again? Would she try and tell him her name? One could only wonder of what she'd do next. However whether she tagged along or not it did not matter.

[Bandersnatch]

It was difficult to conceal the smile that tugged at the corners of the femme’s mouth. They danced about in some sort of a limbo, somewhere between a triumphant grin and the straight-faced look she poorly attempted to put on. As little as the name offered, she felt as though ArchAngel was warming up to her… well, maybe not, but at least he had now accepted her presence with words. Crow barely noticed the monotony of his voice, the absence of inclination or feeling – many wolves in Arnlan, the Alphas included, spoke like this and she was quite well used to it. Even an absence of expression was the norm. She was odd in this respect, it was to be expected when one could only express themselves through body language and expression, though it didn’t mean she belonged here any less. She mouthed his name silently, casting it into her pool of knowledge, as he turned away.

Replying with her own name was both the polite thing to do, and impossible. It was in this way that the brute’s façade of seeming apathy was somewhat of a benefit – at least he did not expect her to talk. If he truly wished to know her name, all he needed to do was ask any of those who had inhabited the land for quite a time. Though she doubted that he would do such, judging by how he had acted toward her. If he did run into another packmate, it seemed very more likely that he would try to avoid them than make conversation.

The mottled brown cocked her head curiously at the males retreating form, the quaff of hair tumbling off her face as she perked her ears. She swung herself back to her feet. The male had given no warning not to follow him, and his troubled gait was far from deterring. Despite the limp, there was something of a purpose to his step. Hunting, perhaps? Crow frowned. The majority of game in Arnlan was rabbits, creatures renowned for their speed. The previous concerns she held for his wellbeing after such strain refreshed. She trotted gently after ArchAngel, quickly gaining on him. Perhaps, if he was planning on a hunt, she could be of assistance. So what if the male did not offer appreciation in return? She was not fishing for it. It was a sense of duty and servitude to the pack that made her tail him.

[akisame]

ArchAngel listened as her heard the steps of the female following him. He did not speak another word preffering not to. The silence of the she-wolf was a relief. He did not wish to speak anymore then he had too, nor would he really truely desire it. It was something he came accustom to in his world of solitude. Nothing to worry about, except only himself. However now that he was in Arnlan, he knew very well that he had to step in when others were indanger, but her following him was alittle much. He could fair on his own, with strategic mind he could infact outtrick a febel rabbit and use his maneuvers to capture it.

However thoughts began to come back to the mottled brown wolfess. About her not speaking. Maybe it was one of those problems one was born with, maybe it was because she just preffered not to. The brute shook his head, why was he so curious about her. He pushed all thoughts of the she-wolf away and would have forgetten that she was even following him if it wasn't for the noise of her paws on the ground. The gray wolf lifted his maw to the clouds and sniffed the air. It was fresh, the scent of rabbit in the air. Lowering his cranium he looked back to his 'tag-along' and picked up his pace. Though he had a limp, it did not bother his movement too much. He could still keep his stealthy jog well enough, and perhaps even run enough to catch a rabbit.

However this took energy and which was running low. It took allot to keep the pace up on three pads and knew it wouldn't last long, but he was determined not to let it bother him, to catch the mammel inwhich he pursued. He came to a halt, and took a few deep breaths. He was meant for all four movement not three, but it did not matter. He would overcome it. He would prove that he is not weak and can indeed accomplish it all. Turning his head he searched the female's expression to see what she thought of this. Was she concerned? Was she going to try and help him. I don't need help. I can do everything on my own, like I always have.

[Bandersnatch]

She had become aware of the scent of rabbit before, but it was stronger now, and so was her certainty about the male’s intent to hunt. She eyes followed his form. His gait was quicker, more deliberate. Her footsteps had followed suit, lightening so the soft crunch of snow and squelch of mud beneath her pads was barely audible.
Her ears flickered about, lazily straining for hints as to where the rabbit was located. ArchAngel had made no move to signal for her assistance, nor did whispered schemes reach her ears. If he did, she would help out, but otherwise she would let him be. She would be there, ready, if he needed her. Otherwise, for the moment she had little interest in hunting. Her stomach was still contently settled, filled with the meat of a hare caught the previous day. Hares were nowhere near as numerous as their rabbit cousins, but they were larger, faster and stronger. There was one critical flaw shared by all hares which, coupled with its young age and lack of experience, had led to this particular lagomorph’s eventual demise: a preference of above-ground living meant that the femme’s meal had had no burrow to dive into, out of the way of snapping jaws. Chased from whatever little shelter it could find out in the open, it had only been a matter of time before it was met with death.

The silver male’s sudden halt was greeted by a look of momentary confusion. It was quickly explained by his heavy breathing. Crow’s emotions were so often betrayed by her expressions, and this time was no exception. Concern was stamped all over her face. Her eyes greeted his as he turned. She remained unaware of the emotion she emitted, but her pale blue eyes questioned if he was okay.

((Shortness. Sorry))

[akisame]

((It's okay))

ArchAngel recovered from his fast breathing and shook his head at his own weakness. Looking at the she-wolf he could see clearly the concern on her face compared to his emotionless one. He closed his black eyes thinking. I cannot hunt alone like this, even with my fast thinking. I'm gonna need her assitance. Given she provides it to me, but there is a slight chance that she may not, thinking it too much work. He looked to the tawny female and searched her eyes for something that might make him think something else then his pessimistic ways. He took one last deep breath realizing he better ask now, and get it over with, as much as he preffered to stay silent and go on his own.

"Can you help me hunt please?"

That was as polite as he was going to be. No matter how much he needed help or how much he'd be in pain, he'd never be very polite. However this female deserved it. She had helped clean his wound, then she followed him to make she he was okay and put up with his attitude. Even despite this it didn't change him much. He was quite annoyed with it all. Infact he was finding a new found hatred for his younger half sister Akisame. No doubt she thought about him having trouble hunting. He growled silently, so not to alarm the tawny she-wolf. Then searched her for a response.

Why doesn't she talk? Usually a wolf would have said something by now. Of course he liked the silence, but it was bugging him. He wanted an answer, but did not want to go through all the trouble to get one. Curiousity was getting the best of him and he felt compelled to know the answer to it all. It would make it much easier on his own mind to find out. The timber snorted knowing it would be trouble trying to get an answer out if she was a mute or something. Why go to all the trouble. Opening his jaws to a small crevice he let his words slither off of his tongue.

"Why do you not speak? Are you just not talking or are you.... A mute?"

[Bandersnatch]

Crow’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. She had been greatly taken aback that by his request for her assistance. The sepia wolfess had been slow to conceal her worried expression, and had been expecting the male to roll his eyes in reaction. Not this. She had expected that he would have at least attempted to hunt on his own before asking – he seemed stubborn like that. Even more surprising, the question had been posed so politely. It took her a moment to react, but eventually she trotted eloquently to his side, flashing him a kindly smile. This was matched with a nod, a confirmation that she would indeed help him. Her persistence seemed to have been enough to relax him to her presence, even if his expression remained tense unreadable.

As she studied his face, it was difficult not to notice the look of anger that briefly swept over it. Was he annoyed at her? In that second he seemed not to be concentrating on what surrounded him. It was difficult to tell. It passed quickly, anyway.

"Why do you not speak? Are you just not talking or are you.... A mute?"
Perhaps someone else who shared her impairment would have taken offence at his question, or hang their head sorrowfully, depressed by mention of their disability. Instead, Crow gave another short smile. To her it did not matter that much – it was better she have no voice than no vision or hearing. It didn’t affect her hunting nor patrolling, rarely did it even prove frustrating. Those pack mates who had become used to her attempts at communication had come to understand what she said to them through her body and gesture. Why worry about something that you couldn’t change? Her experiences in life had taught her it was best to simply work with whatever you had, and not to waste time and effort on dwelling on what you didn’t.
In answer to the smokey male’s question, her maw opened wide as if to speak. Air rushed over her vocal chords and passed through her throat, but made no sound. Her jaws gently snapped shut, and she raised a shoulder in a shrug. That’s just how it was.

The rustling of snow and long-dead leaves forced Crow’s attention back to the task at hand. Her ears pricked and swiveled, surveying the gaps between each shadowy tree. She was more serious than before – after all, now she would play a role in the hunt. Her eyes returned to ArchAngel, waiting to see what his move would be.