A bird in the hand

He let out a pleased grumbling sound as his mom placed a little kiss atop his head, his thin tail wagging lightly. Things had been a bit tumultuous, he knew his mom was stressed lately. Could see it in the curve of her shoulders and the crease of her brow. It wasn't his place to intrude on the problems of leadership, he was young and inexperienced, and so he would stay quiet about things unless asked. Which just so happened to occur in that same moment. Soft, rounded ears perked as he took in the laundry list of things that his mother was going to be doing today. Pale pink gaze drifted to the waterfowl as they were mentioned, tracking the movements of a few mallard drakes on the water.

He hummed thoughtfully, leaning away from his mother so he could take a small step towards the water. After all, he'd been thinking about the same thing today! "Well, we could do both." he offered tentatively, brows furrowed in thought. "If we start getting them used to our presence, we'll be able to harvest down from their nests, or take a few eggs in the spring, and collect any dead ones from the area, and they won't attack us- or they won't attack until after we take their eggs, at least." he snorted to himself at the image of his mom and the little dog-lady fleeing the estuary with a dozen geese and ducks in hot pursuit.

"Taking the eggs in the spring is a good idea, since the babies will imprint on us and won't be afraid. But I also think it's worth making friends with the ones who already live here, to make our lives easier in the spring. If we leave some vegetables and herbs in a specific spot every day or so, they'll think that we aren't just here to eat them." by this point, he was simply planning aloud. Whether or not his mother appreciated his idea, he was going to start feeding the ducks. Maybe try to befriend the swans that he'd seen stopping by as they migrated. The estuary was going to empty out rapidly by the end of the season, but the fowl that remained would become acclimated to the presence of the wolves that occupied the territory. He liked the idea of being able to fish without scaring away the ducks...

Peering over his narrow shoulder, the greyscale waif beamed at his mom for a moment. Nim was hoping that she'd approve, he wouldn't admit it, but he wanted his parents to be proud of him- even if he wasn't a great warrior like his other siblings.

"Nimbus"