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Time - Afternoon | Weather - Broken clouds | Notes; Takes place by Tailfeather Creek. Come meet Sifaka!
 
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Little sun peaked past the clouds to shimmer in the stream below, its light illuminating the bed of the creek to reveal tiny tadpoles fluttering in the water. Their father or mother, in the nearby bulrush, croaking along with the crickets that played their built in instruments. The crickets themselves were perched high on the cattails that dispersed themselves between all the pickerelweed and flowering rush that called the creek their home. Serenity laid claim to the stream and the surrounding area, its air managed to be softer to pull in and a breeze in the early spring cooled the land below the treetops but humidified it in the sweltering heat of the summer months. Sifaka played with the idea to den near the stream but his current place had warmed to him and the humidity of the creek in summer wouldn't appeal to his high maintenance coat that he preened each morning. He decided he would remain at the lip of the caldera.
With a full month of residency under him, and a surprising revelation with Towhees sibling, Raven, Sifaka was there to stay for an extended period of time. Longer than he had anticipated but it was not an unwelcome development in the males eyes, his mission to find relatives was complete with the added bonus of their bloodline possibly spread further than just the caldera. It was promising for the maned one, he held hope to eventually meet each and every family member that was tucked away in Teekon. Sifaka held a great deal of empathy for his kin and needed to ensure each held up the family values. Needless to say, he was nosey as all hell but the man didn't seek it as being intrusive but rather as a caring family member. Then there was his grandnieces and nephews, resting in the caldera where Sifaka would no doubt tell them about his youth and life teachings but they were far from that time. Nevertheless, the quiet and reserved male still held some excitement to do what every great uncle must, bore his nieces and nephews to death with aforementioned ramblings.
Parting from his thoughts, Sifaka dipped his head down to drink the crisp, clean water by his feet. Tadpoles raced away from the ripples, zipping past his tongue with surprising speed. He didn't stop drinking and simply kept watching the legless things scurry away but as his tongue curled it caught one in its shallow grasp. At first Sifaka hesitated to chew, the tickling below his tongue intensified the longer he hesitated so the male squished it from under his tongue and chewed. The burst of flavor was bitter and gooey, he was quick to spit it out but the goo stuck to his teeth as well as the bitter taste. To keep from tasting it again, Sifaka stuck his tongue and the lower half of his jaw in the water to rise his mouth of tadpole. Once he thought to be finally rid of it, the man took in some water and swished it around in his mouth before spitting it out away from the stream. The maned male shuttered, a ghostly remembrance stubbornly stuck to his mouth. Sifaka swore never to eat one again for as long as he lived.