A bird in the hand

The troublesome little thunderhead of a wolf would never voice his displeasure with the pack's relocation, but nonetheless it ate at him. His greenhouse! His eel pit! Now completely unguarded, open for any wanderers or vagabonds to destroy as they saw fit. In his day to day, he did his best not to think about it. Admittedly, the young male spent quite a bit of his time away from the newly established territories in order to check on his projects on the old island. It ate up a lot of time, and already he could see that the effects of his neglect were being felt by the denizens of his little realm. Perhaps it was time to establish a new sanctuary, closer to home. Improve upon old designs.

That was what brought him to the estuary, where he also happened to stumble across his mother. She had been handling her leadership role well, as far as he was concerned. Hardly an ambitious fellow, and uninterested in politics, Nimbus wasn't particularly chuffed either way. So long as he was allowed to tend to his garden and his critters, the rest of his packmates could do as they pleased. He trotted up to his mother with a warm chuff bubbling up from his slender chest, grinning like a sunbeam. "Hey mum," he chirped as he sidled up to her and sought to lean his diminutive frame against her left forelimb. "anything on your agenda for the rest of the day?" he questioned idly, his rosy gaze drifting across the landscape as he spoke. There were a few specific creatures that might inhabit the territory that he was hoping to find, not necessarily to take any back with him- not yet. This was a scouting mission of sorts. Getting his metaphorical ducks in a row. Oh, ducks! Maybe he could tame some ducks in the upcoming seasons.

"Nimbus"