not in Kansas anymore

Jiro's lazy demeanor usually ends in him never wandering very far. The northern edges of the oaks is perhaps as far as he's managed before he tires and returns to the bamboo. This nature he holds also begs to question why he was even up so early. Sleep still coating his lashes as he wanders northwest from the bamboo until he's standing before a towering mound of grapevines. He had heard talk of wine being made from grapes, but that wasn't something his pack preferred to use. Rice, right? He couldn't remember the specifics, but maybe the grapes had a different use? The pup made a mental note to ask his mother or Sedna upon his return.

And instead of turning back toward said home, he continues on into the leafy cathedral. There he is met with dazzling rays of morning light shifting through a colorful canopy of green, red, and purple grapes. The smell within the cathedral is captivating and makes his mouth salivate. Jiro begins wandering further in, his eyes on the hunt for the perfect grape. Behind him, his father's cat tails him, ensuring the pup doesn't get eaten by a predator on his journey outside of the bamboo.

As Jiro walks over to a cluster of grapes, intent on trying them, he notices a boy around his age not far away. "Oi!" Jiro calls out, tail wagging in a friendly manner behind him. Instead of staying new his cluster of grapes, he moves over to the other boy. The scent rolling off of him is familiar like one of the other pups that came down from that northern pack. "You smell like that Bjorn pup," he says, his eyes narrowing slightly. Said Bjorn pup had been kind of a dick so he wondered if his brother was the same.