Long Winter (Back to Square One 'Ctd)

[Irilo and Pack]

___ Iri'lo's paws struck the hard, frozen soil, claws gouging at the earth for traction as he wove down a narrow decline towards a tree-shaded depression in the soil. The narrow creek that had run here in the spring was too feeble to withstand winter's chill and had crusted over with ice, water managing to flow sluggishly beneath the surface only in its deepest points. That didn't matter; he wasn't here for water, but rather to dig up an old cache of food buried somewhere beneath the frozen crust of soil. Hunting had not been good for days, and with Khahirre still weak, it was imperative that she be provided with some kind of nourishment.
___The cold dumbed his sense of smell as he pressed his nose to the soil, searching for the exact spot to no avail. Frustrated, he let out a low growl, pawing at the soil here and there and receiving only sore paws in return. Damn. It had to be around somewhere, but where? His pale gold eyes scanned the earth for any abberation, a bit of hide or a disturbance in the topsoil, but failed to detect anything noteworthy. Perhaps a second set of nostrils would help. Tilting his muzzle skywards, he let out a short, low howl. With any luck, a packmate would be nearby to assist.
___ As it so happened, Matamoras was nearby - further upstream, seeking a thin spot in the ice that he might break through for a drink. At Iri'lo's howl, his head snapped up, ginger ears alertly perched fowards. His nostrils twitched, hoping to find someone else in the locale who could respond to the male's call - but alas, he detected none. He was uncomfortable around this adoptive brother of his and tried his best to avoid him outside of basic pack functions. But as the alpha male, if he needed help, Matamoras had to obey. Letting out a low, huffing sigh, he let out a low note and wove his way downstream.
___ Iri'lo breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Matamoras respond to his call. Though the wolf was a tad awkward to be around, he had a good nose on him and would be determined to find the food for his mother - whose illness he felt very much personally responsible for. He might have truthfully appreciated Mesablanca's company more, but beggars can not be choosers. Lowering his haunches to the cold earth, he waited patiently for the other lupe's arrival.

[Mesablanca]

Her pace was not necessarily quiet, but for Mesablanca, she was being stealthy in her hunt. After all, it still felt a tad odd to be a truly solitary hunter, with no annoying raven to scout ahead and tell her of her surroundings. Not that she missed Snafu, really; she hoped the awkward critter had finally managed to find a flock of ravens and didn't need to keep seeking her company. Rather she missed his eyes, because her nose was telling her very little.

The albino wolf weaved through the forest, alternating between scenting the air and trying to find any trails on the ground. Neither was going well. Thankfully she wasn't too hungry, but Khahirre certainly would be, and Mesablanca did not want to take food that she would certainly need. Though she was theoretically the alpha female, Mesablanca could not help thinking of Khahirre as superior and thus sacrificed her food accordingly.

However, she still was not used to pack hunting, and hence had set off on her own, hoping to catch something small to hold her over. Shame there was nothing to be found. Mesablanca's ears flicked back, but otherwise she hid her agitation and tried to focus on the, er, hunt.

A howl stopped her in her tracks, even when a mouse skittered across her path in an obvious panic. The wolf who had voiced it was a ways off -- Mesablanca could not even smell him -- but regardless she paid attention. As she listened, she heard another howl, even farther off, answering the first. Interesting. Matamoras was not the type that Mesablanca would expect to first answer to Iri'lo; he seemed more the type to quietly pretend no one else was around. Perhaps he was finally becoming more socially accustomed to the pack.

Of course, that meant Mesablanca was entirely unnecessary and could continue her hunting. But the small wolf was not entirely excited about it. It was a waste of time, for one thing, and for another she wouldn't mind Iri'lo's company. Besides, she thought with a smirk, Matamoras would probably welcome the opportunity to be quietly excused from assisting the alphas. Perhaps he was willing to answer, but Mesablanca couldn't help but think he hadn't progressed much beyond that.

However, depending on what Iri'lo needed, she may not be much use. If he needed to get into something small, she was perfect for the job. However, if he was hunting a moose, there might be a slight problem. She decided she could find out once she got there.

Tilting her head back, Mesablanca howled, hoping it would travel to their position. She then turned and loped through the forest at a fast clip. For being so small, she had always been fast, and loved to take full advantage of it whenever she could. For that moment, she used it to reach the two males as quickly as she could, not minding if they waited for her, but secretly hoping they would all the same.

[Irilo and Matamoras]

___Matamoras had just reached Iri'lo when he heard Mesablanca's howl. Mid-pace towards his alpha, posture lowered and tongue licking the air, the male froze, ears snapping in the direction of the fae's voice. She was not especially close, but she was definitely on her way, the prospect of which relieved him. Perhaps if Mesablanca arrived, he could escape his duty, which would doubtless be a nightmare of awkward, stilted conversation between him and adoptive brother. It wasn't that Matamoras had anything against Iri'lo; indeed he found it quite admirable that the male had took it upon himself to risk his own safety by leaving the pack in winter to find Khahirre. Perhaps it was the nobler aspects of Iri'lo that made him so uncomfortable, for he himself was a coward; the other wolf seemed only to magnify his many shortcomings.
___Iri'lo for his part, was also pleased to hear Mesablanca's howl even if his help had already arrived. His motives had nothing to do with social awkwardness at all; Matamoras was a practical choice for the job, being nearby and possessing a keen sense of smell. The other wolf's shy and depressed demeanor was inconsequential to the task at hand. He merely preferred Mesablanca's company if he would have to spend his day doing something so humdrum as clawing at frozen earth for chached prey. When they were both living within the pack, he had not taken any great notice in her, but increasingly he found her to be a smart, level headed, and also enjoyable companion. Thus, a small smile creased his dark lips for a moment before yelping a quick note of recognition. His attention then re-focused upon Matamoras.
___The ginger-hued wolf limped forward, the old injury in his foreleg stiff from the cold, and greeted the wolfdog with submissive whines and laps at his muzzle. Iri'lo know the male found greetings a little tense and uncomfortable, and thus responded quickly with a wagging (but dominant) tail and a few quick, only modestly affectionate nudges of his nose. Once this was over, he took a sweeping look around him, nostrils flared and eyes squinted to the cold wind that whipped between the barren trees. His attention returned to Matamoras, who expectantly awaited instruction.
___"Do you recall when we cached food here a few weeks ago, before the frost settled?" Matamoras considered his alpha's inquiry then gave a brisk bob of his head. Iri'lo continued. "Good. I'm trying to find it for Khahirre since fresh prey has been sparse, but I've been out much of the day and I'm afraid this blasted cold has made my nose useless. Since Mesablanca is coming, perhaps you could search upstream and we could search downstream to find it?"
___This plan was a suitable arrangement for all parties involved: it gave the greatest chance for finding Khahirre food in a timely manner while letting Matamoras fly solo and the alphas spend some time together. And this, thought Matamoras as he nodded his approval and began traveling briskly upstream, nose low to the earth and tail swaying for the balance upset by his bad leg, is why he is an alpha and I am not.

[Mesablanca]

She felt like she was wandering dumb through the world -- all she could see was ice and snow, frozen trees and leaves. She only heard the sound of her own paws and the occasional scamper of a creature up through the trees. Her nose? Nothing at all, or close to it -- Just the occasional scent of a close squirrel. Snorting, the female scented the air more frequently, hoping that perhaps she just was missing it when it passed.

Ah! The wind shifted ever slightly, and the scents of Matamoras and Iri'lo reached her. The female's ears perked; so they weren't on the other side of the territory, at least. Lowering her head, the female padded through the forest, determined to get there as soon as possible. No need to leave anyone waiting, particularly when she always had energy to spare.

Iri'lo's yip greeted her first; then she could see the wolves through the trees. Matamoras was heading elsewhere; it looked like he may have a purpose, but whether it was a command from Iri'lo or just what he had been doing beforehand, Mesablanca did not know. She slowed her pace, tail swaying above her haunches as she approached Iri'lo. The walk had been refreshing rather than tiring; wolves were known for their endurance.

Tail wagging, Mesablanca brushed Iri'lo's muzzle in greeting. She then grinned, tilting her head slightly.

"Your orders, alpha?"

There was no mistaking the joke in her tone. After all, she wasn't exactly a subordinate; she was, in a way, the alpha besides Iri'lo. But a little joke never hurt anyone, particularly when it was a cold and unexciting day.

[Irilo]

___Iri'lo was almost relieved when Matamoras made haste in pursuit of fulfilling orders. It wasn't that he disliked the male actively; merely, he found his awkwardness unsettling. The strained fashion of his greetings, his near-mute silence, the way he guiltily slunk about when he had done nothing wrong... Appropriate social signals were vital to accord within a wolfpack, and Matamoras tended to persistently send the wrong ones. He'd not yet had to discipline the wolf, for he always submitted appropriately, but interacting with him was almost akin to interacting with another species.
___Mesablanca made far better company. Considering her past, she was really quite well adjusted; he was pleased to have her as an alphess of sorts, even if her small stature and peculiar coloration made her an atypical selection. She was level headed, clever, and - and this he thought with a smile as she greeted him and gave her little joke - very good company. Tail giving a few wags in a position more relaxed, he bumped the underside of her muzzle with the bridge of her nose, and grinned.
___"You've already fulfilled your duties by saving me a very awkward forage with the always-charming Matamoras." He chuckled, his tone bemused rather than teasing or legitimately disdainful when he spoke of the other male. "On a more serious note, my nose is utterly shot from this weather; I blame my inferior domesticated forebearers." He grinned. "Want to help me find a cache?"

((Sorry it's so short - I just couldn't think of much action until they actually started conversing/doing something))

[Mesablanca]

Mesablanca grinned at Iri'lo's comment. Matamoras's rather unsettling social graces were the sort of thing that their pack dealt with but hardly enjoyed. Mesablanca, frankly, couldn't understand why he hadn't just forgiven himself already; yes, perhaps he had done something horrible in the past ((Does Mesablanca know the details? I don't think so, so I'm assuming she's guessing)), but even if he had, the parties affected had long forgiven him, or at least as far as she could see. And yet he continued to act like a forsaken puppy, to the point where Mesablanca wondered at times whether he wanted the punishment, or just attention.

It was impolite for her to think of fellow packmates in such a way, though, and Mesablanca would never express such feelings to the wolf's face. He was, like everyone else, a valuable addition to the pack -- just not in the ways of company. She then knew entirely what her fellow alpha meant.

"I will always be glad to perform such duties." There was no hint of malice in her tone, but regardless the female had the grace to look a bit sheepish after such a comment. She would always be delighted to save Iri'lo from Matamoras, eh? Didn't that sound rather ungrateful. Ah, well, she couldn't hide the truth. Interacting with Matamoras often was as delightful as a porcupine.

At Iri'lo's next words Mesablanca smiled. "I don't know if I'll be much help -- I'm used to having a second, far superior pair of eyes." Not for the first time, the albino hinted at her raven friend. "But I shouldn't let a bird outdo me. Cache-hunting it is."

Snafu had been useful to locating the general area that the cache would be -- Mesablanca didn't know how he did it, but he seemed to memorize locations with his eyes the way she knew individual creatures by scent. She then was used to finding caches by smell, but normally had a better idea of where it was beyond "somewhere". The tail wave and perked ears, however, indicated that Mesablanca was not disappointed with the task.

"Any idea where it may be?" The female sniffed at the ground in a circle, but couldn't smell anything that could be the cache. She couldn't decide whether she wanted to find the cache quickly or slowly -- quickly meant they had a greater reason to be cheerful. More slowly, however, meant more time to spend with Iri'lo. Decisions, decisions...