maybe someone she hasn't met? :)
While Moonsong hunted with many packs, the snowcloud too found herself hunting for any sign that the malevolent shadow had crossed their borders. Her raven companion, whom she had begun to affectionately refer to as Yutu, had been notably absent as of late - perhaps sensing the opportune of fresh bison meet and joining the gathering. But Tulugak had no interest in such events, not while he remained a threat to their village.
She refreshed the borders daily, a snowdrop against the grey of the rock as she scoured the caves too lest he had somehow snuck into their darkness to lay in wait. Her fur had become matted and unkempt in places, paws brown from grit and use and dark circles had begun to form beneath meltwater eyes. There was little time to sleep between vigilance.
Today she paced the ice-river, mind cottony and elsewhere until she felt the ground shift beneath her and then give way with a loud
crack! A squeak of surprise as her body hit the water, followed by a string of curses as she waded ashore, shivering, exhausted, and utterly miserable at her own carelessness.
the white bird, quite deliberately, held their silence until the wolf had waddled back on land.
then, once the beast was present of mind and with talons on ground - they croaked with uproarious mirth!
head throw back as they batted their wings in spasming hilarity, their talons nearly lost grip of the tall stone they occupied. yet, it would've been worth it! only the best and the brilliant die laughing, was the white bird's philosophy.
Her stormcloud expression turned thunderous as the tell-tale cackling of a raven celebrated her unfortunate return to land. Perhaps once she was warm and dry in her cave, she would look back on this moment with humour, but not while the proverbial wounds were so fresh.
"If you are here just to laugh at me, Yutu, then I do not want to see-" and where she expected his inky feathers, a bird of ice-white had taken his place. The words fell away from her as she gazed open-mouthed at the spirit - was it real? She felt the soft wind-chill from the beat of its wings.
"You!" she gasped - a thing of legend! "Blessed by the gods and yet so... evil!" Once a raven, always a raven, she supposed, no matter their colour. It was safe to say she was sorely disappointed in the stories she had heard. "Do you want an ice-bath too?" Without waiting for an answer, Tulugak shook the water from her pelt in hopes of sullying its pristine feathers.
the cacophony rung louder as droplets splattered the plinth, yet not reaching them.
tears clinging to eyes, the raven threw their head forward with a final kraa!
gods!
they croaked. ye think gods don't know humor?
It continued to laugh, an ugly croaking cackle that echoed across the ice-river. Tulugak resisted to urge to grab the spirit by its beak and dunk it below. "Then their humour is cruel and ill-timed," she grumbled, collapsing onto her haunches with an audible sigh.
It was a curious thing: the true nature of those she revered. So often was she used to counting their blessings and curses that she had never given thought to much else.
"It is said that many gods once walked among the living. Perhaps they are more like us than I thought." The cruelty of her kind was no stranger to her. She thought of the malevolent man and his cold grey eyes and shivered.
a muffled chuckle to the beast's availing of gods' various cruelties.
they hopped nearer another corner of the plinth, icewater eyes observant of the sodden manner of this hunter's pose. their tongue ran along their beak, considering the words.
aye, more like it, indeed, and few knew they'd be so, too! ney, can never be sure! great mothers and mighty hunters, yet they was all once soft-shelled eggs. any could one day be god.
pause, as if only now noticing their partner in conversation.
mayhaps, even you.