Wolf RPG

towhee stops at a fresh water source, shaded from the unrelenting sun — though she has noticed that it was not as hot as it'd been — by the flowing and spindly branches of the weeping willows that brush the ground with the soft breeze to lap at the water.

ghost returns from his recon, perching at his new, if not uncertain place on the junction between her shoulders.

he does not stay there long, as if he is testing out what she will allow and what she will not.

his perching there does not bother her, but when his mangled talon takes some of her fur with him as he rises into flight once more she does let out a low, breathy grumble.

she takes in the unfamiliar territory slowly now, muzzle lifting slightly to draw in the scents; alert in the only way she could be.

With each passing day, Reverie felt more and more herself; the dancer, the girl who looked at the world with eyes wide and full of wonder. In some ways it was easy. @Blossom was discovering the world, all the time finding new joys and curiosities, and Reverie couldn't help but share in it. She remembered her own childhood often, sometimes sadly. Yet she found some kind of healing in watching her daughter grow without the burdens of her own youth.
@Boone, too, was a healing presence; a constant steadiness, always gentle, never cross with her when she failed to mind the practicalities of their travel. She'd come to rely on him already, and sometimes it seemed as if he really did think of everything. Reverie was still uncertain what had brought them together — simple attraction? fate? or something more? — but had come to think of him as her own in some small way.
They were, each of them, hers — and, perhaps selfishly, Reverie was careful to keep this distinction. She kept Blossom close, even when she wandered. Her daughter was with her as she stepped under the willows with a little gasp, awestruck by trees like nothing she'd ever seen before. They were beautiful. For a time she was so caught up in showing them to Blossom, she failed to notice that they weren't alone.
Then, all at once, she did notice. Oh! Reverie breathed, drawing Blossom close before she took notice of the other wolf's youth. So many young wolves wandering; she couldn't help but wonder how their parents coped!
Hello, She called out tentatively after a moment, approaching the dark-furred youth who seemed... familiar, somehow. Hadn't she seen someone who looked a lot like this, but much older? Reverie recalled what Phox had said about child lookalikes, but failed to make the connection just yet.

if there is any warning that she is not alone, as towhee jr lingers unknowingly downwind of them, it comes in the form of ghost. the circle back from his recon, the soft tap of his sharp beak against her left shoulder. a clever way to communicate with her. perhaps he was learning that she could not hear or perhaps he just thought she was helpless and it was his duty to warn her of what he considered probable danger.

she slows, the two — and adult and a child, likely somewhere around her own age — come into view.

ghost settles between her shoulders, a beady eyed sentry.

towhee hesitates as the adult draws nearer, muscles tensing slightly. though forcing herself to travel, to complete njord's task to prove she is old enough to handle herself out here int he world for good has pushed her out of her shell ( though she has never been shy, just hostile as hell ) ... but still wars with that instinctual desire.

it prickles along her spine.

her paws itch to sign out in ptero the question she desires to ask but each experience tells her that she is the outlier and ptero is special between her kin and those close to her family's hearth.

so, she watches the adult and then the child, though her gaze never strays too long from the adult.

The youth was guarded, but so strikingly familiar that Reverie couldn't help but stare. Hey, um, do you know someone named Towhee? She asked after a moment, feeling awkward. Then she remembered what Phox had said, about people's children looking like them, and his sister Towhee.

Surely this was one of her children? But Reverie did not want to assume, and so she only waited for a response.

the woman's lips are moving, but in her arrogance and belief that she would never leave the wolves who knew how to communicate with her, jr had yet to teach herself to lipread.

if she tried hard, she could discern one or two words. simple ones, realistically. but, she didn't bother to try because it was fairly useless until she got the hang of it.

the woman is met with a blank stare from towhee, a ruffle of ghost's feathers as he senses the tensions pulling her muscles taunt.

in a way she has learned to communicate that she was deaf, she paws at her ear and gives her head a slow shake no.

no hear. in it's most primal way of communication.

her paws itch again to sign ptero, but she resists the muscle memory urge. sometimes, strangers have surprised her but she has largely begun to assume that not many knew how to sign ptero.

Reverie tilted her head, understanding all at once but finding herself at a loss. It appeared that the girl truly was Towhee's mini-me, right down to her lack of hearing. But she did not speak, nor did she seem to understand Reverie. She wasn't sure where that left them.
So she gestured for the girl to follow her, dipping her nose to the ground to signal that she meant to hunt. It was the only thing she could think of to establish some kind of friendly rapport between them. All wolves knew what a hunting partner was, what it meant. And Reverie wanted Towhee's child to know that she was safe with her, even if she could not explain that she knew her mother.

this stalemate was familiar to jr, now. an old friend fondly greeted.

it needles home the nagging thought that she really ought to put more effort into learning to read lips. it wasn't the solve all, be all answer necessarily ... unless they knew ptero she could only answer simple 'yes' or 'no' questions but, it would be a decent start. at any rate, more than she had now.

she watches as the older one invites her nearer and signals a hunt.

golden gaze flickers to the other child for a moment before it re-settles upon the adult.

she wonders if offering to hunt was the standard way adults wished to make things ... less awkward. she is not the first to invite jr to a hunt. though jr isn't particularly hungry and her hunting skills are passable but not realistically up to par with what they necessarily should be, only having sight and smell to go off of, she nevertheless accepts with a soft nod of her head; ghosting toward the pair, a twitch of her shoulder sending ghost airborne.

Here was an opportunity: to show Blossom that it was time to learn to hunt, that it was within her capabilities in spite of her young age. Reverie took the lead, though she was unaccustomed to such. For once, she did not dread the blood as much as she had in the past.

In the end they felled a small sickly deer, her and the girl she was now certain must be Towhee's daughter. When they'd each finished taking what they wished from the carcass, Reverie worked at tearing one of the legs loose as an offering to the youth, something for her to carry with her back home, hoping she would see it for the friendly gesture it was meant to be. Words would be lost on her, she figured, but the language of sharing was universal. They parted ways as tentative friends, and Reverie felt hopeful for a future meeting. If she ever saw Towhee again, certainly she would have to tell her that she'd met her daughter!