Wapun Meadow I sip the liquor but it's much too harsh,

@Condor @Buzzard

"This place could've been pretty, if y'know, wasn't fucking raining all the time." The sky was heavy with rain, and she looked up in disgust, murming a quick curse toward whatever God may be looking at her. She was giving the inner middle-finger, or the equivalent of what a wolf could give.

"Or y'know, great spot to fuck." Seemed like a romantic date to simply frolick in the flowers before getting down to it.

Buzzard has to disrespectfully disagree. Ugh. Hell no. They rolled their eyes, followed by a loud snort. You know how much pollen would be floating around? Enough to have you sneezing for a century. Yeah, they’ll pass on that one.

And there she goes, talking about fucking once again. Christ, couldn’t she think about anything else? There’s more to life than dick and vag you know. Another eye roll.

the rain just kept coming. condor had been forced to give up on mid-trek grooming, only because it would be very easy for vulture to point the finger at him when he mocked her for the exact same thing. the fact that it truly was not working was secondary.

regardless. condor cast a critical eye along the meadow, which did bear some similarity to the gorgeous fields of wildflowers that sprouted in the canyons during the rainy season but in every other regard was its inferior. it was damp, it was cold, it was muddy. in other words: 0/10, no thank you.

but of course that consideration couldn’t last long. his sister truly had a one-track mind.

his expression as he turned to her was exactly the one you might find above a therapist’s interlaced fingers, having just learned that his client breaks into peoples’ houses and steals their jewelry for fun and trying not to reveal the fact that he is now obligated to report it. “now i must agree with buzzard here, darling. for example: mud, rain, the simple joy of stealing food from people who don’t want to give it to you.”

"it's only because you're a virgin honey." They were young, but Vulture liked to exaggerate how much experience she truly has gotten- more of simple lust then the actual play. Though she has had a fair-share of boy toys here and there, and was quite a show-off when it came to her siblings. She didn't know if they were the same.

"Stealing is our game, but where to take when all I see is fucking rain!" They were scavengers, true to their name. Vulture preferred to steal prey at the last minute, mocking the person who did all the hard-work, and getting away with a juicy meal.

Today was just roll-your-eyes-at-everything-Vulture-says day. It’s not my fault nobody can handle this. They dramatically puffed out their chest to show off their totally amazing and definitely NOT disgusting body. No guy or gal was worthy enough to get their paws on the merchandise.

At least Condor could appreciate what life had to offer. Er, sort of. I could do without the mud and rain. But stealing shit? That’s where it’s at. They assumed they were all in agreement.

Ah, common sis, lighten up. I’m sure there’s a pack around here somewhere. They placed a paw on their shoulder before surveying the land. I mean, look at that view! Who wouldn’t want a flooded garden in their backyard? That’s some dumb shit only a wolf could love.

eugh. buzzard was right, of course, even puffing out their scraggly mud-caked chest. condor fancied they could see insects crawling around in there; they were practically cultivating their own ecosystem. if there was one thing you could count on, it was on wolves to have no sense of taste.

and vulture, of course. condor would say a prayer for her taste in both flower fields and idiot men.

“don’t you long for our old canyon?” condor said, looking sadly to the sky and getting a raindrop directly to the eye for his trouble. “this rain is enough to make one question their decision to steal everything and run. and the flowers were so much prettier at home.” he sighed, thinking wistfully of their home. so pretty, so warm, so not flooded by rain.

ah, but they were scavengers, in the end. stealing was their game. what could you do.

"It's coz you ugly honey," by handle, no one could handle Buzzard's looks. She held a disgusting look while an eyeroll went forward at their siblings dramatic antic. Vulture counted herself as the most attractive out of the trio, a true vixen! She had to use her looks after all, and clearly had gotten around with a few men, and woman.

"The canyon was definitely better then this murky backyard," she agreed with Condor, and rose a brow to Buzzard, "who would want to live here?"

Hey, some people dig the ugly look! Like those weirdos who look at hairless cats and say “cute!” or those creeps that see roaches and say “aww!”. Buzzard was on the same level as those things. Dumpster trash that belonged with the bugs and the rat lookin’ cats. Maybe they’d be more upset if their main goal was getting laid. Thankfully it wasn’t.

Long for the old canyon. Buzzard didn’t miss it as much as their brother seemed to, but they preferred it over this overflown pool of a valley. Maybe we should turn around and come back when it doesn’t look like shit. Ha! Not. Their family wasn’t about to let them in after the stunt they pulled. If they did, they’d have to beg for forgiveness first. This coyote didn’t do begging.

I’ll tell ya who would wanna live here: wolves that’s who! They’d love to frolic in these flowers with their ugly little crotch fruit. They followed this up by prancing around in a circle, tried to splash some mud on their siblings as they did so.

And you know how they could be. This place could be consumed by the earth and they’d still stay right where they are. Stupid, stubborn creatures.

none of condor’s siblings had his taste. how could they? surely vulture’s was better than buzzard’s, but that was faint praise. the ugly look indeed; the worst part was that they wore the badge proudly. looking good by comparison just was not worth it when the person you looked better than both stank and looked like a bog.

and this was his sibling, which just made it worse. every day he asked himself how they were related, and the universe gave no answer.

he was, in fact, so busy bemoaning this that he made the basic error of not paying attention to buzzard. a wave of mud splashed over his perfect, pristine (if slightly damp) fur, and he reeled backwards, but it was far too late. he was covered.

“do you know how much work it takes to maintain this coat, you barbarian?” with a disgusted shiver, condor ran his tongue over his freshly muddy shoulder. “why do i even pretend. not looking like that, you don’t.”

"Only the ugly does, they know they can't do better." Only pretty people deserved pretty people, she hated those ugly combinations the trio would sometimes come across on their travels. What kind of handsome man would take a fat oaf as a woman? Or the beautiful, silky, and wonderous woman taking such a toad as a husband. She could offer herself, and they'd reject! Biggest shame.

"Considering it, maybe the mountains will be better. Maybe that's where i'll go!" There was talk to scatter, but somehow they went the same way. Maybe Vulture would find herself to the mountains, away from this murk!

That sounded good- "Ugh, you freak! I'm supposed to be a lovely vixen, how am I supposed to do so when you taint my fur?"

Their siblings were smack dab in the middle of the splash down, just as they calculated (they didn’t calculate shit). Buzzard cackled when they went off on them. Oh, how they loved being the nuisance of the family.

I feel so attacked! They feigned guilt by lifting a paw and hanging their head in shame. How was I—the grody little pea-brain—supposed to know you two would be in the way? Please, have mercy!

the WORST thing was that buzzard would enjoy being yanked face down into the mud. there was no river nearby to dunk them in, and certainly he would not let his tongue anywhere near their coat, not even to fuck with them. the last thing he needed was his mouth hosting a hive of whatever horrible parasites were crawling through their fur.

so, unfortunately, condor was reduced to scowling as they swept their tongue over their shoulder a few more times. ugh. why did they even have siblings? "perhaps i'll join you. we can let buzzard play in the mud they so enjoy."

as much as he was eager to verbally drag them through the dirt, buzzard's skull had the same thickness as a rock; the best you could hope to do was bounce off with a sore shoulder. no, that wouldn't do. he'd have to wait. the best revenge came when your enemy no longer expected it, and condor committed to memory the necessity of throwing buzzard in the first body of running water he found.

he let out a slow, pointed breath, nose wrinkling, and turned to vulture. "darling, i'm going to find somewhere to bathe. you're welcome to come." shaking mud from one leg, condor turned to march away, moving with as much dignity as he could muster despite being covered in a layer of filthy mud. "i suppose i need not say anything to buzzard, since they would dissolve if they so much as touched a paw to running water."

"I'm so glad you admit how small your brain is honey." Buzzard was definitely not the smartest of the trio, and while Vulture likes to pride herself so, she would have to give the crown to Condor- with the biggest reluctance. A face of disgust when she thought to admit that out loud, and would never dare to say to his face.

"I'll join," she pipped up to her brothers suggestion.

Y’know, a mud bath sounds great right about now. Shit’s everywhere. Hard to avoid. They were getting tired of having to tip toe through it all. The universe clearly wanted them to be covered in mud from head to toe, might as well give into their fate.

Death by dissolving is not the way I wanna go. Buzzard fell chin-first into the mud. Their siblings were lucky enough to be out of the splash zone. How unfortunate. There’s nothing that brought them more joy than their looks of disgust.

They rolled on their back and shuffled into the mud as if they were snuggling into bed. There would definitely be a Buzzard-shaped indent when they got up. Drowning in mud; now that sounds sick.

They lifted their head and smirked at the pair. You two have fun drowning the boring way. I ain’t going anywhere.

HEY guess who didn't fucking read the post closely!!!!! condor is muddy now :)

vulture newly in tow, condor was planning to ignore whatever came out of buzzard's mouth next; it would surely not be worth his valuable time. and it certainly was not, but – even though it wasn't his best idea – he couldn't resist turning around.

"it might to you," condor said, disgust dripping off his tongue –

and then there was a lot more than disgust, because buzzard had flopped chin-forward into the muck and though he'd gotten a few steps away, it was not nearly enough to avoid the splash zone. it blanketed condor's face and he gave a furious shriek, shaking his head back and forth as he pawed mud out of his eyes.

"you are DISGUSTING," condor howled, and came within a fucking hair's breadth of pouncing on buzzard and wrestling them into the ground then and there, but they'd probably like that, filthy thing that they were. instead he glared daggers at his sibling, wiry fur bristling along his spine. 

"i'll enjoy it even more when i get you into the water, darling," he said, primly. "i suppose that's a threat, where you're concerned." flicking muck from his ears, condor stalked off into the meadow, leaving muddy trails in the grass.

Vulture wholeheartedly agree, that between the three of them, Buzzard was always the filfthiest. She could only look at disgust to her sibling as they insulted a delightful bath, and few moments later, Condor went very close to them, "yeah, get their dirty ass!" she cheered, making no intention to join this momentum.

"Lame!" Though when it wasn't to be, a fight between siblings, Vulture let out a 'boo!, you suuck!' at Condor. Though he skulked off, but she had no intention to follow yet, "i'm getting away from all this grossness, the mountains should help."

Well, they thought their siblings were out of the splash zone. Poor Condor got a face full of mud. It wasn’t his lucky day. Buzzard would have apologized, but that would make them a decent individual. They chose to laugh instead. Enjoy the new makeover! they chirped as their brother stormed off.

They turned to Vulture. There was a shit-eating grin plastered on their face. Gonna scout out some hot mountain men? Buzzard already knew the answer was yes. She’s so predictable. If you find any hot mountain ladies that are into the ugly look, you better let me know.