She was still nervous around them, but growing confident enough to move through their shared territory without fearing a harsh reprimand. Most of the pack seemed not to care about her presence at all, which suited her just fine. It was growing darker as she moved, which the juvenile attributed to the coming night, and she reveled in it. Magpie thrived in the darkness, feeling drained and exhausted in the heat of the day. It showed in her movements, for her steps grew faster and more playful.
When she saw the sparkle of water in the distance, her slow trot became a sprint, determined to close the gap between herself and the water. Water, it seemed, was an element she was drawn to. It was ever-changing, ever-moving. Perhaps if she touched the water, she would in some way visit all the places it had been, too. It was with this epiphany that she suddenly felt a spark of fondness for the creek that had become her home; perhaps now that she did not travel, those faraway places were coming to her.
As she reached the shore, a bright flash of light lit the sky; seeming to pierce the mountains that rose up around the lake. An instant later, a near-deafening rumble erupted from the sky — it seemed to shake her very bones. She spun around, green eyes taking in her surroundings, but they closed swiftly — almost ecstatically — as a rush of water began to pour from the heavens.
Now she was stuck dealing with more noise like cannons going off above her head, echoing all across the mountains that were now her home. It got so bad she just had to get away. She had to find somewhere to shove her head to lessen the noise. Keeping her ears flat in order to help block out the thunder, and hunching low to the ground to keep the rain off (which really didn’t keep the rain off at all, but don’t tell Red that), she picked a direction and quickly made her way down the mountain towards an unknown location.
Everything was fine and dandy until the rain began to sting her eyes. She had been moving steadily towards Arrow Falls, though she didn’t know that, for quite some time. And the farther she moved, the more agitated she became. She was going into herself to escape the noise and the pouring rain. Had she been human, and known of such things, she might have realized that she had, in fact, a pathological fear of thunderstorms. There was absolutely no way anyone could ever talk her out of her fear — especially because she didn’t even realize she was afraid. She felt more of an acute irritation than anything, but really, it was fear. Fear, horrible and nasty, and roaring its mighty head at her, bellowing so loudly into her brain that she could no longer think straight and suddenly went tumbling down the rocky face of the Falls, trying desperately to get her balance. Finally, all four paws were on solid ground again, only for their owner to find herself flipped onto her side and sliding down the rest of the way, all the way to Lower Arrow Lake.
By the time she stopped moving for good, she was battered and bruised and confused. And she did not notice at all the little wolf nearby, who seemed to be clearly enjoying the thunderstorm. All she knew was that she hurt. And that all around her, the sky lit up with lightning and the thunder boomed and she whined pitifully at nothing and no one and hid her face beneath her paws, wishing it all to stop.
Rain pelted down from the darkening sky relentlessly, its presence felt but only clearly visible when lightning flashed down from the clouds. The lake's surface was jagged and rocky, splashing and rippling from the downpour. Magpie knew instinctually that she should find shelter — it was no good having a saturated undercoat, because even in the fast-drying heat of summer the process would itch like no other. But it felt good to be out here, in the chaos. It seemed to mirror her mood, and stir the feelings she held at bay while being an obedient member of Fox's little empire. She was angry, excited, afraid, ecstatic, all at once. Magpie never seemed to feel anything mildly, though she had been fairly successful at keeping it hidden beneath the surface around the outsiders that had taken her in.
But like anything bottled up and shaken too hard, Magpie felt close to bursting.
When the next boom of thunder shook the fast-approaching night, the juvenile lifted her head to sing along with it. There was no message carried in the sound; only simple joy. It was in this moment that a wolf seemed to tumble out of nowhere, though the teenager didn't see or hear it. Only when her song ended and bright, green eyes opened did the girl see the stranger. She yelped in surprise and scrambled backwards, if only because it was pretty startling to open your eyes and see a dead body that hadn't been there moments before.
Thunder still boomed overhead, but she was too tired and in too much pain from the fall to run off anymore. Instead, she flattened her ears along her head to hopefully blot out the noise and looked to her companion. Between the rain and the darkening sky, the little wolf was a bit hard to make out. Red didn’t know what to say, to be honest, especially since she didn’t normally say anything at all. Instead, she sat on her haunches and meekly leaned back and over and licked her injured ankle. What was she to do now? It would be a long walk back to the Sunspire uphill with a sprained and swollen ankle.
She sighed. This was her fault and she knew it. But there was no reasoning with herself when it came to thunderstorms. If she weren’t tired and hurt right now, she’d be going insane just like she had been minutes before. This fear was going to get her killed one day. She knew it. She really needed to work on it somehow, but she didn’t know what she could do to stop her crazy antics once the thunder started. She just… went into herself and didn’t come out again until the booming stopped. She wasn’t in control of her body anymore. How was she going to stop herself from falling down mountains when she wasn’t aware of her body? Sighing again, she laid down and pouted, the little black wolf nearby having been forgotten at this point.
Her enjoyment of the storm was temporarily forgotten as the body rose from the dead — if it hadn't, the youth might have just continued on her way. Magpie believed in ghosts and spirits, but she had thought the walking dead were creatures that only existed in stories. Death was normal and did not faze Magpie in the least, but this was an entirely different situation. She was torn between running away and walking closer to investigate. Eventually, the body looked at her, and it was then that Magpie realized she had been mistaken about it being, well, dead. Those were not the glazed, glassy eyes of a wolf that had lost the breath of life.
After a moment, the stranger sat and began to groom itself (at least from Magpie's perspective, since she couldn't see the wounds). The youth gave a sharp bark, but it was drowned out by another rumble of thunder. Frustrated, she moved towards the stranger with purpose; now, only a few feet away, she gave a demanding bark. Where did you come from? the teenager wanted to know, though she did not speak it aloud.
She whimpered in pain, and turned herself halfway around to lick gingerly at the wound, her new friend temporarily forgotten. Then she remembered that it was nighttime and it was raining and there was thunder and lightning and she would have to walk all the way to the the Sunspire uphill with a twisted ankle. And everything went back to being shitty just like that. She placed her head on her paws, huffing and wondering how the hell she was going to get out of this situation, when her eyes landed once again on the juvenile.
And then her brain started working again. She lifted her head, and, with hopeful eyes, let out a small and pitiful bark, to ask, “Will you help me?”
She didn’t have a clue how the black wolf was going to help, especially since she was smaller than Red, but there was no harm in asking. Maybe she could bring back a healer? That would be good. Though what would a healer do, other than to tell her to not put pressure on her ankle, which she already knew not to do. She stared up at Magpie helplessly, waiting for something.
At the stranger's plea, the teenager turned her head to look behind — back towards the creek. It was a far trek, and she wasn't exactly sure if the other wanted to be alone (or what would happen if she were left alone). The most time-efficient thing to do would be a howl, but Magpie's voice was young and not strong enough to carry like a grown wolf's might, and especially not in this weather.
Still, she supposed it was worth a try. She filled her lungs, turned her head towards the sky, and expelled the air into the night. Her voice wavered as she struggled to give it both length and volume. It was a weak attempt, but it was the best she could do. Magpie returned her gaze to the other, impassive. She would need to return to the creek, soon, and there was little more she could do for the stranger. If the older female was not found by her own wolves, and if older members of the creek did not hear Magpie's summons, perhaps this situation was fate. Something that Magpie definitely couldn't get in the way of.
Red watched the juvenile, wincing in pain every now and then. The little black-and-white wolf seemed at odds with what to do. First she looked behind herself, though Red didn’t know why. There was no one there as far as she could tell. Then she just kind of sat there for a bit, as if debating. Meanwhile, the coywolf’s ankle was still twinging, and she was growing impatient. It was nighttime. She was alone with a stupid juvenile who obviously had no idea what to do in dire situations, and she was going to end up stuck there and probably dying of hunger in a few day’s time because she didn’t know if she’d be able to walk back to the Sunspire from here.
And then, just as Red was resigning herself to her fate, the little wolf made a pitiful howl into the night, no doubt summoning others of her pack. Well. At least she had done something. The coywolf chuffed a thanks, and then tried to get comfortable to wait it out. If no one came along soon, she’d have to try to go back home with no help. Uphill. In the dark and in the rain. She’d probably slip on a mountain and go tumbling to her death. No matter. She’d have to try regardless.
In the meantime, perhaps this juvenile could keep her company. She looked to the wolf and gave a light bark, wagging her tail slightly, ears forward. Who are you?
her body language asked.
With the way the other female was acting, it didn't occur to Magpie that it was only a single limb that was bothering her — there was definitely a flavor of drama in the other's behavior that indicated it was something at least semi-life-threatening. It also didn't occur to Magpie that the dramatics might be due to the storm, for the stranger seemed to be content to stay out in it just as she was. Another flash of lightning brightened the lakeshore, and the juvenile reveled in the rumble of thunder that followed. When it ended, she looked back towards her companion to see the question relayed in her body language.
Although darkness was falling swiftly, likely making her more and more difficult to distinguish, Magpie stood and twirled in a slow circle in response. She didn't often speak, but her coat was so remarkably similar to the bird she was named for, that most wolves could guess her calling without being explicitly told. When she returned to a seated position, she looked pointedly at the stranger with a tilted head. You?
Red winced and whimpered and damn-near howled as the storm raged on and on over her head, drenching her in rain and making her ears ring. It got so bad that she did not even notice when Magpie got up and twirled, or motioned with her head to ask who the coywolf was. In the span of thirty seconds, Red had gone from semi-okay to downright terrified, though she was just sane enough to know that she couldn’t go running around like an idiot all over again.
Gingerly, she rose her paws, taking the extra effort to hold her injured paw above the ground. If it had been one of her front legs that had been hurt, she’d have had a much easier time, but as it was, holding a back paw off the ground felt weird and definitely unbalanced her. Without even so much as a glance in the other’s direction — mainly due to her fear of the storm and the overwhelming need to get the hell out of and away from it — she turned and began hobbling very slowly along, searching desperately for a place to shove herself into for the night.
Eventually, she came across a small split in the rock face of a nearby mountain. It was an awkward fit and she accidentally banged her swollen ankle on the inside wall of her temporary shelter, but it would have to do for now. She just hoped the swelling wouldn’t be worse in the morning. Flattening her ears against her head to block out some of the sounds of the raging storm, she squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for kinder weather…