Wyndelin had a distinct feeling he'd wandered too far to the east but the beauty of the prairie encouraged him to spend a few days there. The morning sun was rising golden and warm, casting its rays over the land that was buzzing with life. He could hear the meadow larks singing and the distance sounds of elk and bison. He'd had quick success in hunting, seizing a jackrabbit in his jaws. He was on his way to settle down when he spied a lovely brook looping through the prairie. Wynde really would have liked a nice bowl to let the blood drain into. Maybe he could move some of the internal organs into a bowl to entice flies and predators to go there. Should he try and make one? Wyndelin didn't have a good means of carrying items with him but he could certainly use the practice. It was too fine a day not to take advantage of. Wyndelin moved to the edge of the river, looking for a good spot to gather clay. Finding a shallow area along the back he started raking his paws through the water, scooping clay and silt onto the dry bank. "Talk"

Dantalian raced through the tall grass as fast as her tiny legs could carry her. Somewhere far behind her she heard he dad yell her name so she sang back in a singsong voice, "Here papa! Come find me!" And then she made a point to fall silent. Hopefully that would make her harder to find. It would be no fun if he found her right away! That wasn't much of a game. Granted, she'd only just decided they were playing again and her dad was oblivious to that, but she was sure he'd have just as much fun looking for her as she would hiding from him. Right? Right.

The little pup leaped through a tangle of long grass and suddenly found herself out in the open by the water. A man was standing  short distance away playing in the muddy water. Immediately Dantalian was intrigued. She'd never seen a grown up play in the mud before. That had to mean he was a fun one, right? Naturally she was drawn to him. She frisked over to Wyndelin and said, "Hey, what are you doing? Are you playing in the mud? That's nice. Mud's nice. I like playing in it too."

It was a mystery to him how Dantalian could just disappear into thin air. One second she was sitting beside him chattering on about a dragonfly, and then the next Pyrrhic must have blinked or something because she up and vanished without so much as a flurry of leaves or swishing grass to indicate which direction she'd gone. The moment he realized she was gone he jumped to his feet. "Dantalian? Dantalian!" There was nothing but silence for several seconds and then her happy little voice wafted to him on the wind. "Here papa! Come find me!" God damn it.

Pyrrhic took off running after her. The last thing he needed was to lose her in the creek or have her get carried off by a hawk. The little girl was spirited and brave, but completely oblivious to the fact that she weighed about as much as a fat rabbit. There were countless opportunistic predators out there who would jump at the chance to kill a little wolf pup.

He wove through the grasses catching a glimpse of the girl every once in awhile. She was too far ahead for his comfort and rapidly gaining ground.

...and then she was gone. Pyrrhic slid to a halt and looked around, his ears straining as he tried to pinpoint her location. Finally her little voice came to him again only this time it was clear she wasn't talk to him. He took off running and burst onto the scene, surprised to find her pestering a stranger who was standing in the water. Frustrated, he said, "There you are! Dantalian, don't run off like that. It's dangerous out here." To the man, he said, "Sorry about that, she's quite brazen for someone who's only yea high." He said while making a low gesture with his paw.

Wyndelin rolled one ball of clay onto a piece of deer hide. He then moved back to the river to gather more. Shooing away a few minnows he dug into the earth and rolled out another chunk. As he worked a pup suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He stared at the tiny child trying to process where she'd come from and what she was saying. "I'm gathering some clay to make bowls. Where-" Before he could ask where her parents were a large man appeared on the scene. The man was the spitting image of the child and obviously had to be the father. Wynd smiled. "That's alright. I'm not doing anything that requires intense concentration. Just trying to get some clay bowls made. There's a good deposit here along the river bank if you want any. My name is Wyndelin." "Talk"