quack, quack, duck

Wilder began to trail along the reeds, enjoying the way their scratchy stalks itched at his mud flaked coat. The honking of geese and splashing of fish would occasionally direct his ear toward the water, but his focus was more on the landscape. This terrain wasn't much different than the rivers nearby, but it also held a variety of plants that he didn't know about either. Oleander had mentioned wanting something called Bloodflower and that it could only be found in warmer climates such as Southern Boreas. But everywhere Wilder looked, he could not find any plants with fiery red and orange flowers sprouting from it.

Frustrated, he pauses to take a sip of the cool water of the lake when a greeting catches his attention. Lifting his head, he peers to the boy not far off calling to him. Wilder's head cants, tail wagging slowly behind him. "Howdy," he greets back, a small smile embracing his charcoal lips. "You from 'round 'ere?" Wilder asks as he steps away from the lake's edge to move his way closer to the blue and tan swathed male.

WILDER