Duck Lake A whole new world

The sun was setting in the distance, and Dharma knew she needed to find a place to sleep for the night. She traveled a little further west from the meadow she had found, looking for any holes in the ground that weren't currently occupied. It was obvious that no groups of groundhogs occupied the area, but maybe they were around somewhere. 

In the distance, she spotted a large lake. She paused, her eyes scanning the surrounding land for predators. Finding none, she made her way to the water's edge, her tiny legs moving her body rather quickly. She drank quickly, figuring staying at a possibly popular watering hole not the best of ideas. But, she still stayed long enough to quench her thirst.

Having done so, she lifted her head and spotted some rocks nearby on the bank. Running over, she hopped on one, and leaned up onto her back legs. She continued to look around, hoping to find sone hint at a suitable place to sleep.

As if in a perfect embrace, colors of yellows and salmon pinks were cast upon the earth, meeting no resistance upon the calm, open lake as the setting sun flush the sky an impressive red. For her species and many others, this was a time of activity, for heat that once permeated her thick white coat began to dissapate, prey meanwhile beginning to rustle before they retired for the night. However, food was the last thing on her mind as Ceara blissfully enjoyed the pickings of fish she had indulged in over the course of that day. 

Having been happily nestled underneath the canopies of quacking aspen lining the side of the lake, characterized by their long, gangly bodies, Ceara had more than enjoyed the sweet summer fun. Her typically petite, lithe yet fuzzy frame was characterized by an out-of-place tummy gorged with fish. As a lone wolf, such meals came few and far between - Tail giving a wag, and maw cracking to reveal a wide wolfish smile, she knew life was good. A rumbling hunger was appeased for the moment, yet a tinge of longing for company, such as that around a family dinnertable, was to be expected. 

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Displacing the wee lass from her blissful food coma, a disturbance in the still environment was detectable: a slight rustle of the land and a taste within the wind timidly alerted the wolf. Doing a double-take, breathing in deep with a twitch of her moist, black nose, Ceara's brows perked with interest. Heaving upwards upon her fluffy haunches, belly protruding from her tiny form, she put her nose to the earth and neared the lake. Yet, when she left the woodlands, there stood no wolves as she expected. Tilting her head with wonder, without fear, instead with growing excitement at the possibility of an interaction, Ceara woofed to alert anyone of her presence before blindly toddling on over to the riverbank, looking like a petite cotton ball atop some stumpy, short little legs, as per usual: "Anyone there?"

Glancing around, the puffball's curiosity having morphed into full-fledged delight, her thick white tail waggled and wide fluffy ears perked forth, after a short time of a dumbfounded search, the "wolf" turned out to not be anything close. Instead, to her surprise and delight, it was instead a small rodent, a coat as amber and an appearance as welcoming as a sweet sticky honey. Yet at the time, without a twinge of hunger to be found, Ceara viewed this small rascal as not prey, not foe, but friend. Maw parting into an even bigger smile, salmon-pink tongue lolling out, Ceara shuffled excitedly in her spot upon the sight of the small thing, barking once more, though more shrill and playfully than before, she chirped "you don't look like no wolf; What are ya' then?" tilting her head once more, she wondered aloud "Do y'all water mice have names?" that was, of course, assuming that such a creature could even understand her speech. In the past, she hadn't really ever struck up a conversation with a snack, after all. If not, Ceara probably looked pretty dim - but what's new?  Resisting the urge to bat the small animal around like a cat with a plaything, Ceara eagerly awaited any kind of response.

It wasn't long before Dharma spotted another one of the creatures whose scent brought her to the area. Her first encounter of these beasts started out not so well for her-- it had tried to eat her! So, when this one caught her eye, Dharma froze atop her rock, hoping maybe it might simply move on. But, when it called out, she knew it had heard her. Still, she remained silent, the only movement coming from her eyes as she tracked the beast.

This was the exact opposite of the other female. This was white and fluffy. The other had been black and sleek. And it seemed their initial meeting would be night and day, as well. This female, as she danced in place, seemed more excited and less hungry. This gave Dharma hope that it meant her no harm.

Her ears remained perked as she was called a "water mouse", but she didn't take offense. I'm a ground squirrel, not a mouse, she said, her voice showing a hint of humor, though her cautiousness remained evident. My name is Dharma, she added, lowering her upper body so that four legs now supported her weight. It put her at just about head-height of the creature in front of her. If it decided that a meal was on the horizon, Dharma could probably dart over the rocks and maybe burrow quick enough under one to get away. If she needed to. Her tail twitched in indecision, though she remained in place. What's your name? she asked. As long as the other was friendly, Dharma would be, too. She was a rather social creature, and not being around her own kind got lonely sometimes. It was probably the only thing stopping her from running away at the sight of a supposed predator.

Delighted, small paw pads continued to be met with friction against the rocks & grainy sand ajacent to the water as she shuffled in her spot. A lone wolf for moon upon moon, the only living things that had really made her acquaintaince consistently were the trees, standing tall and solemn for her, day and night; that being said, the age difference was just a bit insurmountable -oh, you know, just a 2 year old wolf hanging out with 80,000 year old root systems, nothing unusual here- plus, a pine tree wasn't all that good for conversation. As a social animal by nature, her heart swelled with joy upon being in new - albeit, very different - company. Briefly absorbed in her own interests, she was clueless to any fear or apprehension displayed by the water mouse, though surely it was to be expected - if Ceara were in the position of the wee creature before her, being greeted by a dumbfounded beast, even with her own unjustifiably inflated ego she'd be shaking in her boots or crapping her pelt, if not both; so thusly, its bravery was to be admired.

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It spoke! Taking Ceara by surprise and wonderment, amber eyes widened upon hearing her response. Why, if she knew these little creatures could speak, she would have struck up a conversation with one of these little ground squirrels years ago - well, she was closer to the water than she was to the ground, so perhaps this was a water mouse's clever ruse.. - not to mention, Ceara probably would not have made so many of her kind a midnight snack in the past knowing what she'd just learned. Friend, not food. Barely suppressing her eagerness, Ceara's round head dipped a bit, tentatively sniffing the little creature as her moist shnauzer twitched left, right, and all about. "You don't smell like no wolf, either.. Or a water mouse, at that-" woofed the she-wolf, reaffirming what the creature had said "A ground squirrel, huh? The more you know!" she wondered aloud excitedly, though hearing a curiosity from the newly appointed Dharma prompted her to clumsily and quickly withdraw her head from the perhaps too up close & personal investigation: "Oh, where are my manners!" bowing her head in greeting, Ceara continued "My friends call me-" Um, she racked her brain, quickly discovering she lacked the quirky, chipper monikers that others possessed, damn! I have no friends! Or catchy nicknames! Of course, she wouldn't let Dharma know that - As far as she knew, Ceara was a cool cat - a cold fish. Or so Ceara's ego hoped. In reality, she was just a doofus, though that wouldn't sound right to say, either. So she just said "Ceara - I guess that's what they call me!" with a wiggle of the tail and a shake of the rump, she quickly descended her bust into a dog-like play bow, her lazy open-mouth smile standing strong all the while.

Pupils caressing the earth as it captured its final rays of light, she searched for Dharma's family or companions - surely she had a pack, right? She wasn't that much different than a wolf, just a lot smaller, so it would make sense. Yet, seemingly without a miniscule compadre in sight, Ceara thought aloud "Where's your pack? I don't see them anywhere," continuing, she also wondered in reference to her solitude "Why, I can't imagine hunting a deer all by your lonesome! How do you ever do it?" Perhaps, thought Ceara, this creature had an unfathomable, god-like strength if it could feed itself such glorious prey at that size..A deer, a bear, a WOLF? What would it kill next? Dharma, of course, seemed friendly and approachable at the moment, but you never know...

The fluffy, excited creature bent its head and sniffed at Dharma. Feeling confident she wasn't in any danger, at least not at the moment, Dharma lifted her own now to sniff back. She definitely smelled similar to the scent that brough the ground squirrel into the area. She giggled when the wolf said she didn't smell like her. Well, duh, she said playfully. I'm not a wolf! she stated. She tilted her head then, and asked. What's a wolf? While she didn't know what a wolf was, she knew she was a ground squirrel, assuming a wolf was another animal.

The bigger female went to introduce herself, then paused when she would have said her name. Did she forget it? Dharma was about to ask that very question, when the other spoke up. However, she didn't seem very confident. Well, do they or don't they call you that? she asked, laughing a bit. Do you like what they call you? she questioned, wondering if maybe the female wished to be called something else. I'm called Dharma, she offered up. 

Her ears perked when Ceara asked about her family. Oh, they're not around here. They're a ways East from here, she admitted. She was about to go into more detail when Ceara mentioned how difficult it would be to hunt deer. Dharma's eyes got wide, I don't hunt deer! she exclaimed. I eat nuts and insects mostly, she added. She knew what deer were, since they often showed up on the prairie back home.

It seemed the little squirrel was at ease, at least as much as one could be when confronted with a predator several times their size. They claimed to not be a wolf, yet a ground squirrel, a relevation to Ceara; two sides of the same coin, she was instead familiar only with predatorial wolves, bears, foxes and the like, and conversely on the other side, what was known to her as simply "food." Though now, she had a name to the face: ground squirrel. Thus, she was a bit confused when Dharma mirrored a question, what's a wolf? Never before had Ceara considered that point of view; why, wolves were world famous! With a gasp, Ceara woofed "Why, I'm a wolf, the kind-of-scary animals that probably try to make you their dinner - We're not all the same though, I swear!" at least, not when they were as full as she was. Plus, Ceara was probably a bit more needlessly excited and a bit more dim than the average wolf, who'd have probably gobbled the little creature up by then. Ceara didn't mind passing up what others would see as a free meal, though - she was happy and couldn't complain about being in pleasant company. "You ever come across my kind before? There seems to be a lot round' these parts" wondered the curious wolf - good news for the wolves, but bad news for the prey. 

The squirrel, questioning her seemingly faltering confidence in her own name, offered her own name, Dharma. "Dharma, I like it-" repeated the wolf, feeling the word on her tongue though curious as to the meaning behind the name, she continued "What's it mean?" she'd never heard such a word before, though the same could be said of her own name. "Oh, how I love the name 'Ceara-' it's what my ma called me when I popped out and it has stuck with me ever since, don't get me wrong though, I think I could do with a catchy nickname-" yet despite all her thoughts on her travels, she couldn't pin it down. Cool Cat Ceara? Too pretentious. Slimy Cee? Too.. Slimy. Not to mention, kind of ridiculous. 

Dharma revealed she was not a native of these lands, but rather, a traveller like herself: "You've come a long way then, huh? Me too! You miss em'?" mind flitting from topic to topic, Dharma once came out with another shocking revelation: no deer? The delicacy of the wolf world? Ceara figured it would be a sad existence without the venison delight, but she seemed to have a different diet entirely. Pupils scrounging the setting once more, Ceara sought a potential meal for Dharma as a sign of peace - though, it wouldn't be polite to scutter off mid-conversation, so Ceara sat expectantly and eagerly awaited a response from the creature.