i reached back to scratch my arse and found a banana peel in my pocket
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@Wylla
Note: set on the borders of SWC.

He had never come so far inland. The shores he had been raised on had been (over) populated and so there had never been a real need to travel far to find targets for raiding. The coastline here was a lot more sparse in terms of packs, and if Roz wanted to avoid bringing trouble to their doorstep then in Raptor's mind an inland target would be the prime choice.

The sun was at its highest point, and the heat was near unbearable. For him at least. He was used to the cooler temperatures by the sea, and the crispness of the air there. The sable corsair waded through a thick mat of grass and floating plants to reach open water, where he submerged himself so that only his head was exposed as he swam circles, seeking respite.

He lapped at the water as he paddled around, amusing himself by occasionally chomping at floating leaves and startled frogs. Once he was cooled off, Raptor followed the watercourse south... and stopped dead in his tracks when he recognized a scent along a pack's borders. Or did he? The coastal wolf sniffed the marks at length.

Disbelief settled across him like a cold shadow. He backed away, feeling the hairs rise on his nape as his chest clenched. He had thought she was gone. Like Sandpiper — never to be seen again.
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Leaving Tiercel tucked in the den for a nap, Wylla struck out for the borders. It wasn't abnormal for the marbled she-wolf to leave her wretched child alone for several hours at a time these days, but usually she had a goal in mind when she left. Today she sought only to stretch her legs and burn off some of the energy she'd accumulated over the past month and a half. She still had some pregnancy pudge to work off and patrolling the borders would not only refresh her presence among her pack, but was good exercise, too.

She wasn't expecting to come across anyone on her route, much less such an unsavoury fellow as Raptor. Even having been as inactive among Swiftcurrent Creek's ranks as she was, Wylla wasn't ignorant to the dwindling of their numbers; finding a pack mate here was unlikely, and for a time she enjoyed the solitude. When she spied a dark-haired canid on the borders, she first assumed a newcomer looking for a place and her tail arced upward, but her face relaxed into an almost uncharacteristic smile and her tail tip wagged easily—god damnit, those mom hormones were changing her—but then she smelled him and all that polite pretense shattered.

"You," she snarled out as she closed the distance between them, holding her tail rigid now and slamming her ears forward with authority and defiance both. "What the hell do you want?" Again with those mom hormones. She wanted to rip his face off but MomWylla whispered "no, don't do it, your baby needs a dad, even if he's a complete slug and his genes made her stupid".
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But there she was. He had no sooner confirmed her scent when she appeared in front of him. His thoughts spiralled out of control so quickly that it dizzied him. There was a real threat of him getting lost inside his head or drowning in a renewed sense of intense uncertainty. But her lancing snarl and aggressive stance demanded he pay attention to the reality in front of him and so snapped him back to it — at least to some degree.

Raptor flung his ears back tight to his skull and threw his belly to the ground. His chin landed between his outstretched paws and his tail was tucked beneath his hindquarters. "Nothing!" He blurted out, desperately groping for one sensible thing to follow that up with but there were a hundred words competing for his tongue. "I—" His eyes, which were glued to the ground, stole a glance to her flanks, seeing the evidence of motherhood so plainly there.

"Can I see them? Please..."
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He'd make a great throw rug, though, reasoned her inner voice with disdain as she watched Raptor smoosh himself into the ground. It was hard to believe that he kept happening upon her completely by accident, even though it had never been intentional on her part either. She tried to think of any motivation he might have for lying to her, but came up empty. He had done it before, though—it was a misunderstanding, strictly speaking, but Wylla wasn't rational enough to call it by its true name. She stubbornly clung to the belief that he had meant to humiliate her all along and refused to entertain other possibilities.

So then he would surely do it again. Skin him and let Tiercel sleep on him, then he'll be there for her without infringing on your life, her devilish inner voice said, but then MomWylla pushed back to the forefront and she sighed loudly through her nose. "Stay," she commanded the sorry looking buccaneer in a growl, and then she left him there, delving back into the forest. She deliberately zigged and zagged along until she reached her den, as though to throw him off, even though there was no way he was following.

"@Tiercel," she beckoned her offspring, though of course, she didn't expect it to be that easy. The kid was a complete brat sometimes, she wouldn't be her mother's daughter if she wasn't. "I have a surprise for you."
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Tiercel was sleeping safe and sound in the den, like the perfect, cherubic child she was, and this reply will be succint. 

jk obvi. it goes without saying that the moment her mother left, Tiercel was up to some shit. that was to be expected when it came to toddlers and their rare allotments of independence.  

what wasn’t expected was that mom would be home so soon. you know that feeling one gets, more specifically the feeling latchkey kids get, upon hearing the garage door open at the end of the day? the realization that makes your blood run cold: you forgot to set the chicken out to defrost because you’ve been too busy sampling different shades of nail polish on the dog? that sense of panic that instantly hit you broadside like a wrecking ball when the doorknob jiggled? 

that just about summarized the feeling in Tiercel's chest when she heard the nettled tone of her mother call her name. home! so soon! she gurned on whatever was in her mouth, choking things down in a swivet, and tumbled backwards out of some bushes (very much outside of where she was supposed to be), every inch of her body bestrewed with cocklebur galore.

she looked like a fucking cactus-kin.  

the burrs didn’t seem to faze her, though; her tail’s dithering motions parted the grass and she slowly turned to face her unexpected customer with an innocent beam—caught in flagrante with evidence of a brambleberry binge smudged across her face. her cheeks were... unusually full. 

there was a moment where she just stared vacantly at Wylla, well... this is awkward, red marmalade dribbling down her chin. unfortunately for Tiercel, she wasn't a hamster and couldn't keep up the act for long. her jaw began to cramp from the sourness, so she had no choice but to spit out her afternoon snack. ”bleb.” she unfurled her tongue, depositing this year’s drupelet harvest at her mother's feet.

here she was, all but pleading for the creation of a Wine Mom, but if the child had any concept of shame it was instantly forgotten the second she was obliged with a surprise. her gaze lit up and she stood to the height of Wylla's silver forearm, straining up on her tippy-toes with her legs neatly crisscrossed as she cooed issssss?”—taking the time after to gauge the expression on the tired woman's face for any indication that she was correct in her fishy postulation. inquisitively tolerant, she awaited the reveal of her surprise, shimmying her weight from foot to foot and swathing her tongue over the fruitiness of her whiskers.
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It was too much to ask for her child to just be good for once in her life. It was a good thing there was only one. Wylla would have killed the others by now. Or put them up for adoption. Or conveniently forgot them at the creekside. What a shame if a puppy washed away downstream, never to be found again? Next time she'd get Plan B.

"Oh. My. God," she slowly exclaimed as her idiot daughter, bedecked in green Koosh balls from head to toe and dripping at the lips with some manner of sticky sweetness, emerged guilty from the bushes. "Wow, Tiercel!" she gasped, exasperated as the pup slowly spat out whatever goo she was snacking on. "I hope that was poisonous and you have the shits for weeks and have to sleep in the rain alone because your ass won't stop weeping," exclaimed Wylla as she swept several burs from her daughter's dark pelt, then seemed to think better of the wasted effort and stalked ahead to lead Tiercel back in Raptor's direction, still ranting. "Couldn't be presentable for just one damn second, could you? Do you know how embarrassing you are right now?"

Then again, this was a little like taking a dead battery to a braindead salesman to ask what's wrong with it, so Raptor probably wouldn't even notice. "Yeah, a fish," she encouraged, rolling her eyes lightly. "A big, fat, stinking sardine. Doesn't that sound awesome?"
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It seemed like an eternity had went by. Raptor had paced himself a fine circle outside the pack borders. It was readily apparent in the scuff of the dirt and in the small plants that had been pressed and folded down under his paws. His skin itched as though he had rolled in an ant's nest and hundreds of the insects were combing through his briny fur. His heart felt like it might leap out of his face and splat across his toes.

That all stopped when he saw the silver female — he still didn't know her name! — coming and there behind her... one small black pup. True to Wylla's assumption, Raptor noticed nothing amiss with that child. If he did it was not as though he could say anything about it. His jaw was hanging and he was frozen in place. The his tail started to wag, and it continued to wag harder and faster until his hole rump was swaying. Then the rest of him followed until he was wriggling like a dog greeting his most favorite person ever at the front door.

Raptor dropped down to his stomach with his chin between his paws again. It was different this time — his eyes were on the pup alone and his entire manner was one of playful invitation. "Hi!" He said, his voice sort of a whisper, but sort of not because he was excited. Too excited to even think on the fact that there was only one. She was enough for him. His heart, no longer bouncing up his throat, was embraced by warmth.
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though Wylla carried on, her daughter was ignorant of the disdain slated for her. she gleamed with pride, letting out a belch whilst taking exclamations and worst regards in stride. her weight leaned into her mother's paw as she was swept of loose burrs and when she turned to lead her away (still lashing her tongue like a bullwhip), despite the high stakes of being lured to her own burial site, Tiercel galumphed after her. when there were pauses in the conversation, the young girl would stand in with her own childish imitations of indignant blathering.

she was escorted well past any areas she’d been before, through untrodden walkabouts and into new smells. the latter alone prolonged the duration of their excursion by probably fifteen minutes; every step Tiercel made towards progress was retroceded by fifteen more in an off-course direction because god forbid she miss out on the potential in a pile of leaves or something to taste (rabbit pellets, deer droppings, more berries, stinging nettles... not in that order). Wylla was always plucking her child from from something. whether it was a neighbor’s holt or the reticle of an angry skunk-bear, trips with kids were seldom painless. 

once they finally arrived and Tiercel saw the stranger converging on their path, she hung back at Wylla’s hocks, woefully unsure of what they were in for. she surmised maybe they’d continue on like ships passing in the night, but it would instead seem that this was their port of call. after halting, her mother stepped aside, baring her charge to fuckin’… dracula. casual but suddenly apt reminder that i’m your only child, mom! :D her ears performed a dramatic displacement roll of apprehension, though she never once looked to the badger-faced turncoat for reassurance. 

her eyes were two startled whorls on her face—she hadn’t moved a hair from where her feet were placed when her gaze intersected with his emergence. hi! their roadblock whisper-shouted, tail weed-whacking so loudly in the background one of her ears pitched towards him to glean what he’d said. a wave of bashfulness flushed her; she reflexively broke eye contact and then tentatively approached Raptor, who was basically vibrating with such excitement she could feel the judder of his engine under the pads of her feet. her gaze ping-ponged off the features of his face and she craned her neck to peer back at Wylla with an expression that annotated immense judgmental skepticism. this fish looks awfully similar to us.

though technically she was surprised given that she hadn’t yet developed the mental dragnet necessary to detect sarcasm, and had fully expected an awesome fish to be at their destination, he didn't quite pass muster. either way, the child didn’t understand the significance of their union; he did not bear the scent of packmates, but clearly he was important enough that Wylla was willing to make a special delivery.

she sidled up to him, flinching if he made sudden movements. due diligence entailed sniffing his lips (maybe the surprise was in his mouth? sometimes she had surprises in her mouth for mother!), his ears, his eyelashes. a huff filled her cheeks—up close and personal, her breath probably smelled like a winery—but the kindling of timidity was stubbed out once she had thoroughly searched him and in its place an ember of enthusiasm started to glow.

despite not knowing this wolf from Adam, she felt indelibly drawn to him and the impulse to burst with energy couldn't be contained by her little body—maybe his own gusto was contagious. whatever it was, she breathed vibrantly to life, bounding away to lace through her mother’s legs before returning to face Raptor head-on and tell him everything currently on her mind. ”ir nuh f’iss, oh ma, is nah me oh pe. is nuh iss,” she insisted, abundantly blessed with the gift of gab and oblivious that they might be lost in translation.

”un dam, eepin!” ...in conclusion.
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It took forever to go from the den site back to the borders, easily five times what it had taken her to make the journey alone. She was surprised and also disappointed that Raptor even stayed that long. Part of her hoped that Tiercel's absentminded wandering would delay them just long enough that the scoundrel would grow bored and wander away. There was a tiny part of her that was impressed he would wait around just to see his child, but her mind was quick to tut tut at that.

She hung back while Tiercel inspected her father, who was vibrating with excitement. Wylla smirked. At least now she knew where her daughter got that from. Surely it couldn't have come from a dignified and superior wolf like herself, and she was pleased to see that supported in Raptor's unfettered wiggling. The two were a pair of fools, she thought to herself, as Tiercel bounded between her legs and then launched into a story that no one but Tiercel could comprehend.

Her lips wanted to tug into a smile at the child's enthusiasm, but she turned her head sideways as if rejecting their interaction. Raptor was still a useless piece of shit who had definitely made her child slow in the head—there was no way dropping her on her head had been a problem—and she couldn't let him know that she was happy to see Tiercel so pleased.
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He did not realize it but he held his breath as his daughter considered him and as she took her first steps toward him. He held it as she inspected him thoroughly, and were it not for the suspended but quivering animation he had placed himself in, he would have bathed her face with his tongue and buried his nose in every inch of her downy fur. The softness of her touch, the innocence of her curiosity, and the smell of her puppy breath laced with berries, that called to mind his beloved rum, was beguiling and rousing.

She frolicked back to her mother just when the sirens were going off in Raptor's brain and demanding that he breathe. It took several deep breaths to recover his air. He took them through an open-mouthed grin, tongue lolling, a chuckle or two between them. For a moment he lent the mother of his child a look — a happy, warm, and appreciative look — but she had her head turned and perhaps would miss it for he was quick to turn his burnt umber eyes back to his daughter.

"Oh?" He smiled as she told him a story, extending his nose forward to sniff gingerly at her — to smell her breath again — as he continued to restrain himself; except for his tail, which continued to wag and thumb exuberantly. Raptor gestured toward himself by hooking a paw back, parroting "f'iss," without any clue what that word meant to her but thinking it rather endearing just the same.

"What's her name?" He asked softly, chancing another glance at Wylla, but then giving his eyes back to his daughter.
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her gaze, a meteoric marriage between sea and sunflash, focused intently on Raptor, awaiting his opinion regarding her observations. these were topics that she was direly passionate about and underlying first impressions, it was a pivotal moment for the two of them; a determination of whether father and daughter were singing from the same song sheet, or from the same choir hall, even! she balanced patiently on the balls of her toes, bunching her shoulders up to her pricked ears and looking as if she were about to wet her pants with anticipation.

to her delight, he had meaningful feedback prepared. finally, someone was asking good questions—the legit questions. it was oh, she confirmed with an agreeable nod. ”uh-huh!” the bob of her head reminiscent of a bulldog bobblehead, ever faithful to the dashboard of a well-loved jeep. interest in anything mother-related was lost to the wind completely by this point, though the girl cast a glance over her shoulder after a moment to make certain the mobile milk bar was still present for their conference. 

when he leaned in she squealed ticklishly as his whiskers brushed her, head shying away from the loom of his nose with a stifled giggle. her tail was activated at "full rudder", out of sync with the beat of his own but matching its tempo with eagerness.

gesturing to himself in silent question, Raptor was making an commendable effort to interpret the child's babble. the fact that he could even comprehend a single word from the mountain of nonsense gushing forth was admirable. Tier wriggled under his chin, belly-flopping on his paws with an amused screechy giggle. ”noooo!” her sides inflated and deflated with a mighty heave-ho. what a jester he was, or maybe a fool, for thinking himself a fish! this guy.

even though her father was in the middle of requesting some pretty essential details from Wylla about the fruit of their loins, the fruit herself thought it was a request worth overiding as she zoomed out to twirl in the space between with an interruptive bleat: ”snow f’iss? snow nuh f’iss, n go fin isses?!” that was an inquiry put through a paper shredder and presented to the teacher, and it was a proposal she made with a pleading gaze that could burn proper holes in Wylla's face.
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Their exchange was utterly incomprehensible to the mother, who none-too-subtly rolled her eyes and fixed her lips into a pinched purse. Made perfect sense why Raptor, a complete idiot in every sense of the word, could seemingly comprehend Tiercel... a complete idiot in every sense of the word. She comforted herself with the knowledge that she couldn't comprehend them because she was simply too intelligent, and their babbling was the thing of cavemen.

A protectiveness surged up in her when Tiercel found herself a roost on Raptor's legs and she fixed the corsair with a thin frown. Hey, that's mine! her blackened features seemed to say. He asked of her name and Wylla snorted. "Tiercel," she replied tersely, then rolled her shoulders and said, "should have named her Dumbass." The disdain was playful at best, though; none could dispute that Wylla loved her daughter fiercely, even if she had a real funny way of showing it. Hated the father, but the daughter was all right.

Tiercel couldn't be left out of the fun, though; she babbled out some nonsense request and proceeded to fix Wylla with the world's most pathetic wanting stare. "What? This isssss not good enough for you, kiddo? He's salty just like a fish. Taste his fur. You can't tell the difference."
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He missed the terseness of Wylla's answer, hearing the name only as some sweet thing. Tiercel. His heart was warm and full as he gazed upon his daughter. He nearly missed the suggestion that she should have been named Dumbass, for his world had narrowed in to her. "Aw, she takes after her Dad." He grinned goodnaturedly, having no idea (or maybe he did have an idea) how true the mother of his child thought that was.

Raptor pushed himself up into a comfortable sit as Tiercel danced between him and Wylla, who seemed to better understand what she was saying. Fish. Aha, he understood now what Tiercel was talking about. There was a pang in his heart though — maybe he would have known that f'iss was fish if he had been here to be a father to her. He would be from now on, he decided there and then, a serious look passing across his face for a moment.

"I like fish," he commented, smiling fondly at his daughter. He leaned down to her "Maybe your mother will let me take you to look for fish sometime. Hmm? I can show you where to find crabs too. Oh and snails! Oh and —" He caught himself just as his tail started to beat uncontrollably, just as he was getting carried away with excitement again. The corner of his mouth drew back with uncertainty as he straightened back up and looked to Wylla, his ears somewhat drooped.

"You don't have to raise her alone... I can help. I can bring food... I could watch her...."
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her father’s comment about liking fish had Tiercel snapping her head towards him whilst her ears eagerly sought to accrue his offer. his enthusiasm had renewed her own, and as he began to get carried away her tail walloped the ground with an erratic downbeat. there were so many unfamiliar words packed into one sentence, the lug-nuts holding the gears in her head together were jiggling loose, threatening to disassemble and bounce away. her entire body fluttered and trembled from the fuss.

well maybe it wasn’t just the fuss—the long walk paired with all those berries digesting started to ferment, and the overstimulation aroused a volcanic stirring; a telltale babble in her gut that Wylla was likely to instantly recognize as intestinal distresstinal in her daughter. Raptor was not yet acquainted with his little angel’s querulous guts, but, well, he would be. probably soon. as the corsair turned his attention back to Wylla, his child looked a little… green around the gills, staring woozily at her feet. ”bluh,” she informed them both with a qualmish shudder, gnashing on her teeth as bile approached the back of her tongue. she gurned, fighting back hard on the brambleberry resurrection in her throat.
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It was alarming to Wylla, watching them interact, just how similar Tiercel was to Raptor. It was also a little distressing; her daughter seemed so much more like the father she'd never met than the mother who had always been around. What did it say about her and her capabilities as a mother even if her stern, serious approach to parenting (read: failing at it) couldn't kick the stupid out of her pup?

She fixed Raptor with a sharp and shrewd gaze as he began to list off things he was allegedly going to do with Tiercel, and when he looked up to meet her dirty yellow eyes, she nearly snapped "no" at him and swept her child away. Only the knowledge that Tiercel would have a better life with two parents—a life she never got to have—stopped her, but her ears were pulled back and her lips pursed disapproving when she delivered her response.

"I don't want you around me," she stated, cold and clipped like the flint in her eyes. By then, Tiercel had begun to look like she was feeling a little less than stellar, so Wylla went on, "she deserves to know her father. You can have your time with her, for a moon or two, once she's old enough, and then you will bring her back." This last word she punctuated with a growl, "or else you'll never see her or anything else ever again, got it? You do well by her, maybe it can be a regular thing."

Tiercel's contribution to the conversation was met with a wry frown. "That's what bad little pups get when they do naughty shit like eating a bunch of crap," she retorted. "Go on, get to the bushes."
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He was, as he had been so many times before, pinned by her hard gaze. Her first words sunk to his belly like a cold stone. Dread seeped into him like a heavy rainfall, drenching him from his spine to his toes. Tiercel's change in behavior drew his eye for a moment, but it was quick to return to Wylla's fierce countenance as she delivered the rest of her answer. Raptor licked his lips as he absorbed her terms, nodding agreeably and in relief.

His daughter was being ushered to the bushes by her mother. He was reminded of the many times he ate things he should not have, but now was not the time to reminisce. It was time to go. "I'll be back," he murmured, dropping his nose to quickly nuzzle Tiercel's silky ear and to gently nudge her toward the bushes Wylla had indicated. He was quick to step away, a squirrely assortment of energies were coiling in his limbs — nervousness, excitement — but as much as he felt the need to go and do what he had to do, he also felt like he was close being unable to move at all.

Raptor cleared his throat, feeling himself coming undone, and started off. He paused only to look over his shoulder. "Thanks," he said, and then he was gone. He kept fast to his feet all the way back to Ironsea, never pausing or detouring.
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₍₍ (ง ˘ω˘ )ว ⁾⁾

Tiercel bid her father see-ya-later with an excitable look, wordlessly communicating “don’t go anywhere I’ll be right back after I frow up” to him as she turned and tripped into the bushes to empty her berry infused guts into the undergrowth. giving back just feels right, you know? 

however, before she good make good on the "be right back" part, she was ushered away back to the densite by her exasperated mother.
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