Wapun Meadow absənt

Boredom gave more energy to Swift's paws than any meat. It was one of his primary motivators, and soon into the cold afternoon it had motivated him beyond his own pack's territory. He skirted the foot of the mountain that overlooked the stones and then struck further into the forest before meandering south into the sprawling meadow.

Here his nose was hooked by a scent, turning him sharply.

Katla!

Swift's tail wagged, and then the wind blew and with it swept away all the scent. Only, it had never been his sister's. And only, it had never been anything at all but a memory. With a drooping tail the young wolf was left to furrow his brows at the feelings that descended heavily upon him as he realized this. And after a long, pensive sit, Swift hollered across the field.

Katlaaaaa!

But his cupped ears heard only more wind.

tosses her at u

it was one of those days.
athalia's body grew before her mind did. the meals provided to her by the bearwolves proved much more filling than the scrap she had been used to before them. sharp, gaunt limbs sprouted from her torso, and by now the bruinchild looked more spiderling than wolf.
with this growth came independence, in a way. she never strayed too far from the valley, but at times the urge overtook her to creep through the gateway and into the place where sunlight could find her. it was wet and yet crunchy; snow clung halfway up her legs, and she often stared at the drifts in search of unique footprints.

it was quiet. too quiet, until a boyish shriek pierced her eardrums: KATLA!

and in the distance, she saw him.

fascination drove the bruingirl onward. she pauses abruptly, her trot coming to a sudden stop, and in the glint of afternoon haze she can see the gunpowder hairs that line his bony cheeks, the apple-green eyes. he was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. he'd look even better upon a mantle.
quietly, sharply, athalia approaches with a low-hanging head and softly bent ears, tongue running along her bottom lip. hello!

Happy to have her!

!!!

She looked so much like Katla. Light brown over dark. And she came when he called and that was all he needed.

You—!

But for the second time, the boy was mislead. His spirits bounced up only to plummet. The wagging tail, the grin, his play bow. It all faltered and fell apart until he was left as he had been sitting deflated in the snow.

—'rrrrrrrre not Katla. Who the hell are you?

Swift's face was half-perplexed and half-grumpy, his head cocked to the side and his green eyes a little harder than they ought to be.

immediately athalia was bombarded with a grand display of gestures she had never before seen. her own brothers had sharp teeth and strong limbs; never gentle, never happy. confused and perhaps startled, the bruingirl watches bug-eyed and attempts to mimic him by flopping belly first into the snow.
and she thought it was working, until it wasn't. he soon retreats with ire burning in those lovely green eyes. athalia, she says it as if they'd known each other for a hundred years and he was the strange one for not going along with it. were they not friends now? who you?

Her tone certainly had him questioning if he had met her before. His snout puckered, his brow arched. Hehh? But she asked who he was, and so he rightfully concluded she didn't know who he was either and he was not simply forgetting her face and name.

Swift snorted.

I'm Swiftlet. He declared, picking up his head and straightening his back and shoulders as if his was a name she should have some sort of reverence for. Like she should just know him because he was kind of awesome.

Have you seen my sister?

swiftlet. his name is swiftlet, like some kind of bird, and if athalia hadn't already been enthralled, she certainly was now. she leans close to his wrinkled snout and presses her nose up to the corner of his lips, taking in the scent of others upon him.
he asks about his sister. if the bruingirl had to guess, it would be that katla he was yapping about earlier. she wished he would focus on her and not the alleged mystical sibling. who cared about siblings? it wasn't like hers had ever really been good for anything. she blinks at him once, twice, thrice, before she scooches back and sits down a few inches away from him. perhaps she could make a game out of this. look like what? we find.

Flummoxed. In a word this was Swiftlet's current state. Her bold intrusion into his space and her continued proximity had set that in motion. He had always been fiercely independent, reserving close-contact almost exclusively for his mother when not roughhousing or pestering.

The boy regarded Athalia as if in serious study, unsure what to make of her. She was a little... strange... but he wouldn't be able to put a paw on what it was exactly that made her seem a bit different. Far from off-put, Swiftlet was instead intrigued.

Uh... brown... He said, giving his head a sudden shake as he realized he was gawking like a dumb little fish. In no way redeeming himself, he added, she's brown. Kind of like me... but brown.

kind of like him, but brown. athalia brightens a little as she paints the picture in her mind of what the missing girl may look like. her torso wriggles eagerly. ancelin tracks, i track, she chirps, eyes bright and wide as saucers. we find! come.
she begins to lead him out toward the glade lying just north of her own valley home, nose intently pressed to the ground in the same way she'd seen ancelin do it — except, to be rather frank, athalia knew very little about what she was doing. she zig-zags rather frantically, pauses before rocketing off in one direction, circles back to go another. decidedly, she did not have enough of a scent to go off of.
the perfect solution to this? turning around so that she can press her face into swiftlet's ruff, of course. if she hadn't been intrusive before, she certainly was now, roaming about his body and gathering every molecule of information she can sink her claws into — which is absolutely what every awkward teenage boy wants to happen when they meet a girl, right?

She was persuasive. Swift trailed after as though she'd put him on a leash, keen to follow for reasons unknown to him. Maybe her bright excitement. Maybe her decisive manner of speaking. Maybe the fact that she was a curious thing to him. Maybe all three.

He was a hunter and his sister not so different from prey in terms of seeking and finding. But Swift did not ply his nose or his eyes or his ears to the search. He was too caught up in watching Athalia, finding he had to be alert and sharp to keep up with her briskness and abrupt changes in direction.

Her erratic behavior was beginning to annoy him as he sensed a lack of progress, but before he could make a remark she was upon him. What. Sniffing and snuffling all up and over him. Swift froze, his head drawn back and his haunches nearly dropped into a sit. What are you —

She's not in my fur!

I love her lol.

i would say she loves u too but i don't know if she's capable of that

it seems as though swiftlet is confused. athalia, ever the charmer, sought now to clarify. no, she mumbles, face very much still shoved in the wiry guard hairs that line his nape. me find scent. smell katla. find.
she grumbles as she, after a disconcertingly long time, grants him freedom from her proverbial clutches. blinking once, then twice, she stares at him as if she had forgotten what she was doing before abruptly turning to see if he will follow her.
perhaps it was conversation that he wanted. maybe it would have been better to do that before shoving her face in his chest, but athalia was a young woman of no regrets. you know an-cel-in? she asks, nose wrinkled as she scans the soil for any traces of the long-lost sister. bearclaw. i live. you from?

Swiftlet was mighty proud of his hunting prowess. Confronted with the fact that Athalia knew some little thing about it that he did not sent his ears twisting back to his skull with a grunt.

He stood there tense and uncomfortable with her intrusive proximity, about to reach his limit and swat her away when she broke contact. The young wolf shook out his coat and moved to follow her.

Huh?

Why did she talk so funny?

I don't know what that is. He answered, dropping his snout to inspect the turf for this bear claw she referred to. I from... Distracted, Swift trailed off as he sniffed deeply and noisily, brows knitting at what he did not smell.

Kvarsheim... I don't smell any bear?

athalia did not think she had ever laughed in her life, but here she was now, jaws splitting in a crowish cackle over swiftlet's confusion. silly swiftlet, she teases. bearclaw is place. home. i bearclaw, you k-- kbar... karshim?
speaking was stupid and difficult, and athalia especially did not like it right now.
she brushes it off and continues her search, dragging the poor boy a good few more paces forward before she stops abruptly yet again. disappointment squeezes her features as she turns to look at her tracking buddy with some semblance of sadness. no smell katla.

Once more she gave his ears cause to fall to his (thick) head. Silly Swiftlet: a statement made truer for her having said it. She made him feel silly and the sillier she made him feel the more he wanted to follow. And follow he did.

There was no smell of Katla here. No smell of Katla anywhere. Their search yielded no trace at all of his missing sibling, and when the time came to part ways Swift found himself looking over his shoulder every few paces at the retreating form of the strangest friend he might ever make.

She had certainly taken his mind off his troubles.