Harvest impatiently shook his fur out of his line of sight. He was watching a lion traverse along the pack’s border. Though the big cat had not crossed into their lands, nor did he seem to intend to, the wild dog knew the dangers a lion could pose for pups and he had no intention of letting a feline into the lands without discovering its intent first. This male, especially, seemed particularly large so Harvest was wary. His blue eyes were intense and icy in the dark of the night, never wavering from the dark mane of the cat as it moved. He was sure the cat knew of his presence, whether by scent or sense, but Harvestmoon wanted it so. Best the animal knew that he was under surveillance so that he acted accordingly.

Meanwhile, from above in the low hanging bough of a tree, Moonbug was observing. She divided her attention evenly between the lion and Harvestmoon. The pale wilddog took his job too seriously, Moon thought. In her opinion, their occupation, though important to the pack, was also full of entertaining possibilities. Like learning to climb trees! She had ascended this one with relative ease, needing only a hop, skip and a jump to obtain this position. She had done so silently, so she doubted Harvest knew of her presence just above him, especially with how focused he remained on that lion. She uncrossed her forepaws, considering. Anyone could sneak right up on him if they wanted, though she supposed he was lucky that his pack faced the packlands. With a silent roll of her eyes, she dropped beside him with a dull ‘thump’ in hopes of surprising him.

He wasn’t; surprised, that is, but he was irritated. Without looking away from the lion, he snorted quietly, but forcefully, and sighed in obvious exasperation, “You’re worse than a pup.”

“How so?”

“Because I expect such behavior from a pup, not from an adult. Though I guess I should expect such from you.” Harvest did take his job seriously, but it was a serious job! He couldn’t allow just anyone to waltz into the pack lands, after all. There were dangerous animals out there who wouldn’t think twice about killing a wilddog. He knew. He’d met them. He’d… With a jolt and an ear flick, he turned his thoughts and narrowed his eyes without looking away from the big cat.

Moon was accustomed to his occasional twitching and silent contemplation. He had a past, she knew and expected that. She also knew life outside the packlands, away from the Peke Na, was not always so rosy. To make matters worse, Harvest had lived within the pride before he had left, she also knew, so he had had something to compare the outside world to. She couldn’t imagine leaving here, not in a million years. The Peke Na was her lifeblood; she could not imagine life without it. Her ears pivoted, still dividing her attention between the possible intruder and her companion. “Its not my fault you’re such an old fuddy-duddy.”

The male did not feel any particular need to dignify that with a response and so remained silent. The lion had stopped walking and appeared to be observing something by his paws, perhaps a scent marker or an old track. Harvest tensed and watched, the muscles in his shoulders and back bunching as his hackles rose. Now the lion might choose to enter the lands if he were not intimidated by the idea of a large group of canines. Harvest’s ears were so far forward they seemed perilously close to sliding right off his skull. He vaguely heard Moon’s quiet chuckle so he distractedly hushed her, “Shhh.” He hissed.

Moon reached out to swat his tail before settling into a seated position beside him. Her hind legs folded beneath her gracefully before she bumped him with her shoulder. “He already knows we’re here, silly. He looked right over here before I even dropped out of the tree. And see how his ears keep turning this way?” She squinted at him in the dark as she turned her head towards him, “I blame you and your blinding pelt.” Harvest rolled his eyes without looking at her, only giving Moon more cause to laugh again. She didn’t stop even as he pulled back his lips in a quiet snarl. Instead, she giggled, “Oh stop. Your bark has always been worse than your bite, Harv.”

“You don’t know me.” He snapped, his tail bristling as he dug his claws into the soil. He still would not look away from the cat, so his aggression seemed largely generalized. And dulled.

“I’m not worried.”

Her response deflated his anger so he glanced at her quickly out of the corner of his eyes. She wasn’t looking at him, but her lips were turned upward slightly in a grin. He was struck not only by her diminutive size, but of her smile and confidence. No, this she-dog did not exude an ounce of worry, though her own gaze was ensnared by the feline interloper. Harvest snorted suddenly, looking back to the cat that kneeled out in the grass.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Oh, isn’t that the most loaded answer of all time.” She, too, snorted, though delicately. Her paws shifted, lifting and returning to position as if she couldn’t bear to sit still long enough to leave an impression in the dirt. Harvest sensed the movement vaguely as opposed to viewing it directly. She was like a tightly strung guitar string, just singing with energy and vibrating with life even as she sat still as stone on her haunches. He didn’t respond immediately to her accusation, but she hadn’t expected him to. She was mildly, though silently, surprised when he did.

“You’re irritating.”

She didn’t miss a beat, however, “Aw, I love you too, Harv.”

“Don’t call me that.” He insisted quietly, though half-heartedly as she spoke over him anyway.

“Such sweet words, Boo-bear.” She’d heard that nickname someplace. Her blue eyes sparkled with sarcastic good humor as she gently bumped his shoulder with her own. “Quiet, my love, you melt my heart”

He rolled his eyes, again, and shook his head, but he couldn’t help a small, reluctant smile. He knew that was her ultimate goal and begrudgingly gave in to her efforts. He would allow her that reward tonight. The expression quickly faded, however, for the cat had not moved save to turn his head towards them. Moonbug voiced his same question before he could form the words.

“Do you suppose he wants to speak to us?”

Harvest frowned, inclining his head to one side as his brows lowered in confused interest. Glancing at the blue-furred female at his side, he noted her pinned ears. Good, she was finally taking this seriously. He looked back at the lion before nodding earnestly, “Yes.”

“I’ll go with you.”

He nodded, again. He didn’t mind that she stated it rather than inquired. It would be safer if she came along, but he amended, “Stay a few steps behind me so you can get help if you need to.”

She looked at him, alarmed by his vague and grave precautions. Moon had seen lions on the border before, but never spoken to one directly. She nodded, then, and pressed her lips together before exhaling a verbal response, “I will follow you, then.”

Harvest was glad of her change in demeanor, as well as her acceptance of his instruction. He was older, but she was longer in the pride than he, technically. She could have argued seniority, or pressed the issue. Dropped his gaze for a moment, he hesitated for only a breath longer to gather his composure before setting off toward the big cat with Moon close at his heels.