Spring, beautiful glorious spring, was here at last. Amaranth was feeling very grown, wandering about as she pleased and enjoying the warmth. She was a whole year old now and ready to take on the world!... Or at least, ya know, some birds or whatever. In truth she wasn't really all that hungry, so it wasn't hunting so much as cackling alone like a mad woman every time she was able to sneak up on a flock of waterbirds and scare them shitless. She was caked in mud and marsh-ick up to her underbelly and loving every second of it. By midday Mara found herself resting on the sole piece of dry land, a small island rising far enough above the water line for her to sprawl out and enjoy the budding warmth. Sure, it wasn't warm so much as it just wasn't cold, but after getting stuck in a blizzard she certainly wasn't complaining. Not her finest moment, but as long as her dad never found out it would be fine, right? She'd just have to not do that ever again, and in the meantime enjoy the new season. Above her an old willow's branches danced on a light breeze, young fresh-budded leaves seeming just as eager for sunlight and the teasing shadow of summer as she was. The birds could wait, she decided. Getting up seemed like way too much work when she was in this good of a mood. Mara was well fed, had created an adequate amount of mischief, and was content to watch small puffs of clouds drift across the sky... at least for the time being. "TALK" "YOU" THINK

Pine trees were everywhere. Up north he couldn't go three feet without bumping into a pine tree and of course now that Wyndelin really wanted to find one they seemed to have gone into hiding. Time was ticking away. He had a fire burning down no too far off under the watchful eyes of his magpie companion, Flikkr. Once it was down to coals it would be just right to make pine pitch. Assuming he could find a bloody pine tree. Wyndelin stood ankle deep in mud, nose lifted to the air, sifting through scents. There! That was a distinctly piney note. Trotting in the direction of the scent he soon found a pine tree. Hallelujah! Wyndelin started sniffing around it and to his delight he found a pocket of fresh sap. Even better, he didn't have to wound the tree. Taking a stick in his mouth as he hummed to himself he started spooling the sap onto the stick and then wiping it into a ceramic bowl. Well… he tried to wipe it. It didn't seem to want to leave the stick but he knew better than to stick his paws in it so he just watched it drip tentatively off the stick. "Talk"

Turns out, 'the time being' wasn't very long at all. Cloud gazing was nice and all, until a dragonfly buzzed too close to her nose for it's own good. She shook her head, sneezed, and stood in a huff. The nerve! It was only right that she take off after it. Sloshing back into the muddy water and muck, Amaranth delved back into the estuary once again. Truth be told she lost sight of the insect pretty quickly, but it wasn't like she couldn't find other distractions. She was on the move either way. Before long, she caught the faint scent of another wolf. It was hard to pick out, given the water and pungent plant life, but she was sure it was there. Bothering a stranger was the best distraction of all, so she set off in search of it's source. She wasn't too proud to admit to herself that actually finding the male had been more luck than skill, seeing as tracking anything in this ephemeral landscape of winding water and maze-like growth was tricky at best, but there he was either way. A bit older, but practically the same size as herself, she felt pretty confident walking up and asking him why the heck he was staring so intently at that bowl. "You look like that goop cheated you out of a debt," she said by way of announcing her arrival. "Is this some kinda meditation or whatever?" Watching goopy stuff slide into a bowl might be... calming, maybe. Who could say for some wolves? Regardless, this was weird and she wanted answers. "TALK" "YOU" THINK

Wyndelin had just finished gathering what he needed and was scraping the last of it into a bowl when a voice caught his attention. He looked up as a yearling female asked more or less what he was doing. He set the stick down across the bowl. "A meditation? No, I'm just gathering some sap for pine pitch." He scooted the bowl onto a piece of hide. He wasn't really quite sure what to say so he folded up the four corners of the hide so he could carry the bowl and trotted back over to his fire where he set the hide and bowl down. Taking an antler her scooted the bowl onto it and then deposited the bowl onto the hot coals of the fire. "Talk"