Northstar Vale (o,..,o)
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Ooc — Talamasca
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All Welcome 
The boy crept along a hillock of swaying grasses and felt the summer sun across his back. The blue-silver of his spine was ignited like a fire; he turned and blinked as the direct light hit him, then found some solace as he ducked between some trees. As he moved through them, he discovered a small pond. It seemed to stem from nowhere, with a tiny (and I mean tiny) creek leading directly to the massive puddle.

Titmouse was sulking again... A habit which he'd fallen in to of late, wondering if he would ever be a warrior, ever be better - and it seemed, at least to the boy, that he was stuck. In the days since the bear had chased them all off to the mountains, Titmouse had indeed grown strong. He resembled a compacted version of his father - looking more and more like Peregrine by the day, but.. Smaller. Although he didn't know his parents, he knew he did not like how small he was.

As he passed along the edge of the depression where the water sat, stagnating yet alive with bugs, he was repulsed by it. Why couldn't he be big and strong like Rannoch? Wasn't he supposed to get big? Was this all he'd grow up to be? The boy paused and dipped his head towards the surface, as if to drink from the green-gray depths.. But instead he swatted at the surface, and watched his reflection distort with a scowl on his face.
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It was just like her to be traveling along the Vale's small creeks and streams, often found next to a small body of water.  It was summer, and although they were mostly dried up she took comfort in knowing that when water returned to Teekon, they would fill the small veins once more.

She had not traveled down this way before, though, and she was curious.  Her nose kept close to the ground, right next to the indentations the creeks had once made in the dirt until actual water started flowing, leading her to a larger body of water — a glorified puddle.

Someone else was here, though, and angrily he disturbed the presence of the water, sending bugs scattering in all directions.

Are you alright?

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He was staring at his damp paw when the stranger came upon him. It might've spooked the boy on any other day, being spoken to out of the blue like that, but the vale's numbers had fluctuated a lot in the past few weeks. It wasn't so strange that someone could've found him, or that they'd try to talk to him. The voice wasn't aggressive, and the words themselves - albeit a bit intrusive according to Titmouse's psyche - meant no harm. He shook his paw off and as he planted it upon the soil, turned his head to regard the stranger.

They seemed concerned. Titmouse couldn't fathom why. Maybe they had intended to fish within the big puddle? But he hadn't seen anything worthwhile - and it likely wasn't deep enough. This wasn't a family member, but he looked her over, took a breath, and knew somehow she was a vale wolf - and that was enough to relax him, give him a moment to murmur, I'm fine, but his gravel-voice sounded extra dull today, as he could not hide how truly terrible he was feeling.
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I'm fine, he says, but his dull gravelly voice gives him away.  Still, she does not press; it is rude enough that she came upon him without introduction.

She decides for a while to abandon the prospect of small talk, instead pawing at the surface of the water herself.  She had hoped to find cleaner water underneath the algae and assorted bug gore, but all that met her was stench.  No messing with that anymore.

Sorry to intrude.  I forget, sometimes, not to be so forward.  She dipped her head at him as sort of an apology and sighed, shaking off her dampened paw. What brings you out this way?

[Image: 70c0c50922211f79c19a9fbb2dbe797a.png]
 
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Her question strikes a chord within him, and rather than brush off the stranger's attempts at being friendly, he combats it as he combats everything else as of late: responding sharply and with more vehemence than he can control, I'm a warrior! I'm protecting everyone, obviously.

Maybe Titmouse has been spending too much time alongside his friend Redshank? Or his worries have been made manifest with a sudden darkening of his behavior; either way, he rudely states this fact as if the entire world already knows, then with a snort, continues on his way - as if he had somewhere important to be, and hadn't just been staring morosely at his own petite reflection.
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Sorry for the short post!  It's just out of character for her to chase someone who doesn't want to talk.  He can come back to her if/when he's ready!

Perhaps it was her previous attempts at conversation that had so irritated the young wolf, perhaps not.  The boy's seething glare told her everything else.  Obviously, she called after the retreating form of the child, confirming his belief with a straightforward tone.

But if you wish to talk, I'll be here. She was not going to press it.  The siren did not feel like it would do any good to force out such resentment and instead chose to leave him to shamble angrily through the forest.
[Image: 70c0c50922211f79c19a9fbb2dbe797a.png]