"Hooray!" you go, and do a clumsy dance all around Bel while he picks himself up and shakes. You stop by Pancho's roundness and lick her snout. "Pancho! We're going outside! I'm going to eat some mice!"
All this activity was already waking you up. You yawn hugely. "That sounds gross," you muse. "Is it actually?" "No, they're kind of like potato chips," Bel says. "Furry potato chips full of mouse poop." "You don't really notice after the first couple." "Huh." You get up and stretch, which wakes Logan. "Oops, I guess excited baby is coming along too. Is she gonna ruin your fun?"
You look at Logan doubtfully. There are strong, fit, active, well-trained working breeds who can keep up with wolves just fine. And then there is Logan, who seems to have spent at least a year of her life in a cupboard under some stairs. "Yes, probably, she's a podgy mess," you say. "But she'll have to get up to speed at some point, so it might as well be now, when I'm on three pins and kindly disposed." To illustrate how benevolent you feel right now, you lick Logan's head. The fluffy silky bullshit that humans have swapped out for fur gets into your mouth and you give up.
This, of course, makes Logan flip her shit with doggie joy. "I'm a good girl! We're friends! You're my friend!" "Aww," you laugh, and nuzzle her fluffy face. "You are a good girl. Don't mob him, baby, he's got a bum leg, you're gonna knock him over." During this, Bel has somehow typed a note for Helen on his tablet and is carefully tucking it under her arm without waking her. "Right, let's go. Don't let Logan make detours, this is folded space, for all I know she'd end up in narnia. Follow scent out, not sight." "You got it, Cap." You form up with him automatically, even though you were never in his squad. It's just training. Logan picks up on it and imitates you, like the good baby she is. Which leaves poor Erskin having to decide whether to follow along like his boyfriend is some bullshit 'alpha', or try to lead you all on three legs. You are a very good friend and don't laugh at him much.
You make yourself useful and keep Logan from careening around too much while you make your way outside. She's probably got a fine sense of smell, but no experience following a scent trail, and will be at risk of getting lost for quite awhile. Once you're outside you give a brisk shake to clear off the lingering inside-feeling, and lollop as best you can after Bel. It's an hour or so before dawn, with frost over the grass and a million stars just starting to dim off to one side, and the air is clean. You love being back out in the regular parts of the world. "I wonder if there's rabbits close by," you muse, and then awkwardly stumble over strange bit of root. Having a hind leg out is a lot less of a pain than a front leg, you can hardly balance for shit. "I order you to go look for rabbits, Captain Blackass!"
"Yessir, Colonel Panic," you reply happily, and lick his face affectionately before taking off to stretch your legs with a good run. Behind you, you hear Pancho start trying to explain the computer joke; good luck with that, Pancho. You think Erskin's about as likely to get it as Logan is. (what do you reckon he should smell hereabouts? rural northern plains should have plenty of rabbits and whitetail deer, and if there's agriculture close by there'll be LOTS of field mice. there could also be moose, coyotes, wolves, wild dogs, bobcats, or bears, for funsies.)
You complete tune Pancho out the moment she says 'computer'. Computers are basically expensive windows into a dimension full of crazy people. In the real world, you've found some deer pellets that need rolling on. They're old enough that they're not particularly fragrant, but it might be all the fun you get tonight unless suddenly every mouse in the world gets concussed.
You catch whiffs of mice and rabbits early on, but they're oldish, you think. Nothing you could track from. You don't put much effort into it, honestly; you're just enjoying the crisp air and the way the light changes as dawn approaches. When the sun finally shows, the immediacy of light and warmth just about knocks you senseless, it's so beautiful. You turn back toward your friends, confident you can show them some places to try; this is the time of day to do it, right? On the way, you happen across a scent that's intriguingly not-quite-wolf-or-dog. Curious, you detour to investigate.
A young yearling fox has been clumsily caching a rodent, and is caught completely unawares by Bel. She jumps in startlement, then trots a wide circle around Bel, staring in confusion: in this flat, empty world, she's never even seen a coyote before. "What the fuck," she goes. Even in the bizarre dialect of foxes, it's pretty intelligible.
"Morning," you return bemusedly. So you can talk to foxes too, as well as canids, bears, and corvids. That's pretty neat. "You got your breakfast already? Cuz I'm scouting for some friends and we're all pretty hungry, if you're still hunting maybe I should steer them elsewhere."
The sophisticated, vaguely magical language of werewolves goes straight over the little fox's head. She does another circle around Bel— "Are you bad? Are you a friend?"—with the excitement over this strange and wondrous new gigantic dark foxish creature winning out over concern that he's going to dig up her vole, then pounces forward and boxes his shoulders. "Iiiiii'm gonna get you!" she goes, and dashes a wide circle around Bel going the other way, then boxes his tail.
Aww, she's just a funny little baby. You laugh and bounce around, feinting at her tail. "I'm just gonna take this. Just gonna grab this tail here, yep!" One of the great things about being a werewolf, you've found, is that you don't feel the least bit awkward about playing with kids and animals if they want to play with you. It's instinct, it just happens.
Bel is faster and more powerful on a straight chase, but the young fox is as nimble as a fly, and dashes in crazy curves and loops all over, alternately waving her brush of a tail at Bel and nipping ferociously at his. Whenever she can manage, she zips straight over his back, just for the thrill of proving she can. Eventually, winded, she flops on her side and brandishes all four paws. "Bet you can't get my guts!"
"I so can," you counter, and try to nuzzle her tummy while she bops your snout with her little dark feet. "I wish Erskin could see you. Oh hey. Just a sec, gonna holler." You sit back on your haunches and raise your head: "HEY FRIENDS IT IS BABY FOX PLAYTIME OVER HERE!" That should carry a good long way over the open prairie. Then you go back to playing with the fox's ittle foots. They're so cute!
Well, that sounds completely worth investigating. You head off in Bel's direction, getting the hang of this particular three-legged configuration as you go. It's actually easier to go along at a lope than a walk. When you arrive you are delighted to see Bel gently messing about with a fox just about the size of one of his legs. "What a big rabbit you'v caught!" you exclaim.
"I've been trying to bite its tummy out but it keeps biffing me on the snoot!" You flop down beside the fox and nom one of her hind feet theatrically. "Oh my god, that's adorable," Pancho says. Logan, of course, wants to know, "Friend?" "Yes, Logan. Friend." "Friend!!!"
You leave the dogs to play with the little fox and go wandering about. Something smells delicious.... aha! You eagerly dig up a dead vole, then go down on your haunches to chew it to bits. "WHAT," goes the little fox, when eventually she realizes you've stolen one of her future lunches. "Dig deeper caches and don't trust strangers," you tell her, then have to gulp the prey fast when she tries to take it back. "WOW FUCK YOU," she conveys by biffing you right on the snout. You roll over and let her savage you, laughing at her tiny paws.
"Erskin, you dick." You smack his snout with an irritated paw. "Don't steal from babies, that's really low. I'm disappointed in you." Bel looked about to get up on his high horse and rain down righteous indignation -- which is part of why you got to Erskin first, cuz that might strain their relationship -- but at this he deflates in confusion. "Who are you and what have you done with Sergeant Pancho, terror of the FOB? I personally have heard you reduce a fifteen-year veteran to tears over a tray of warm jello." "Warm jello is an excellent incubation medium for bacteria, I wasn't going to have people shitting lava on my watch just because Doctor Distracted didn't wanna toss out six bucks worth of snacks. This is just your boyfriend being slightly a jerk." "Ah. So you're saving it up." He nods wisely. "Come on, kiddo, team up with me and we'll both get breakfast." "I don't think foxes do pack hunting," you say uncertainly, but you don't care that much. You can take over pouncing on Erskin. Unlike the fox, you have the leverage to knock him right over. Logan, meanwhile, is chasing milkweed fluffs. Whatever dignity the husky and akita breeds may possess, it got left behind when they met up to produce her.
"She's not a baby, it's November! She's perfectly old enough to be learning life lessons!" you protest. You lick your snout in hurt confusion. "It's not as if I was going to eat her in front of you two, you don't have to come over all sanctimonious."
You give him the cold shoulder; he's old enough to learn life lessons too. Like: when your friend is playing with a cute animal, being mean to it gets you super shunned. Pretending Erskin doesn't exist, you lead the fox off into the long grass -- well, short grass as in 'shortgrass prairie', but it's belly-high to you and hides the fox completely. She'd be very stealthy if she could just quit rustling so much. After a bit you coax her to stay put just long enough for you to sneak around and flush out some mice from their hiding spots; she sort of tries to pounce them all at once, but does manage to knock one rolling and grab it on the second go. You were thinking maybe you could teach her to return the favor, but instead she goes parading smugly past Erskin with the mouse in her teeth.
