A V A L O N; the shaman
___________________________________________________
location; her den | mood; calm | tagged; lark
In the pitch darkness of the den, the shaman stirred in her sleep. At the sound of pawsteps from the entrance of the den, her honey colored eyes cracked open. She surveyed the room, finding rather quickly that the source of the noise was just her apprentice. She rose to her feet, back arching as she stretched her lithe body out. She let out a low grunt and struggled to shake off the remnants of sleep that clung to her like burrs to a dog's coat. The sun had yet to rise fully in the sky, which meant that Avalon had a bit of extra time to herself outside before the hunting parties went out. The subordinates chasing after prey often resulted in accidental wounds, which would end them up in Avalon's care. Not that she minded, but at the same time, she valued the moments of quiet and solitude.
Her tail swished to and fro as she padded around the den. Her eyes traveled over her carefully organized herbs and medicines, but finally came to fall on her apprentice, Lark, who looked to be rather discontent. "What's the matter? Someone ruffle your feathers?" Avalon inquired, cocking her head to the side as she spoke to the yearling. She was well-aware that Lark sometimes got frustrated with being the shaman's apprentice, and it was reasonable, because any young dog would. Spending time sorting herbs and cleaning out wounds isn't exactly the most exciting set of tasks. Even Avalon got bored with her duties at times, but considering that she was an older dog, she chose not to act on her feelings. "It's still early," Avalon began, her ears perking as she pointed her nose towards the entrance of the den. "so I'm planning on taking a walk around the territory. You can come along, if you'd like." She offered gently before strolling in the direction of the entrance, a soft sigh escaping her as she got a whiff of the morning air. It was up to Lark if she was going to follow her mentor or stay behind. Either way, Avalon was taking her walk. She held the firm belief that doing it kept her focused and clear-headed. Being the shaman meant staying cooped up in her den for hours on end, which is something that cant take a toll on one's mental state. If Avalon didn't work to combat the claustrophobic feeling by meandering around the territory, she was convinced that her ability to focus would be hindered.
B A X T E R; the subordinate
___________________________________________________
location; outside the subordinate den | mood; chipper | tagged; leilani
Unsurprisingly, Baxter had woken up before the majority of his pack mates. He was stood outside the den, his tail swaying back and forth with vigor as he stared down at the soft earth in front of him. For the past hour, Baxter had been practicing his pouncing abilities on unwitting cockroaches and earth worms. His mouth was hanging open, tongue flopping out as he concentrated on a roach that was poking out of a mound in dirt. He scrambled forward and snapped at it, but the bug somehow managed to outsmart him and scurried off. Baxter let out a discouraged sigh as he watched it leave, feeling like a bit of a failure for not being able to catch it. He straightened up and focused on the ground once more, waiting patiently for the next bug to show up. It was only when he caught a whiff of flowers and heard the sound of paws hitting the ground that his concentration was broken.
Baxter lifted his head to glance at the dog exiting the subordinate den, his ears perked up curiously. He wagged his tail and ambled over to her, an almost goofy sort of grin on his face. Leilani was a rather pretty fae, so naturally, Baxter found himself feeling rather giddy. "G'morning, Leilani." Baxter greeted, eager to see that one of his pack mates was awake. "Did you sleep well?" He inquired, wanting to have a conversation with her. That would definitely beat chasing roaches and eating earthworms.