Otatso Wetlands mmm, make it right.

a series of soft owl-calls penetrated the rising dusk. qiao listened, placing the boy on the ground and pinning his shoulder. another series tittered over the fluttering leaves; this time followed by unnatural silence. 

the boy was sullen. any time he cried, he was met with the sharp pinch of qiao’s teeth.  he became withdrawn and gaunt in short order, stifling the quiet cries that rose in his chest. 

qiao cut him a look that brooked no quarter, ears stiffening as the crunch of leaves underfoot reached her. her eyes flashed, teeth bared and ready — but it was only @Stormchaser, his captive in tow. 

this one is a mutant. qiao gestured to rowdy, her murkwater eyes alight with dark emotion. what of yours?

Stormchaser had run until his legs quivered from the effort of it. All the while, his mouth held the fragile little body of the pup. At first the child had seemed weightless, as though the yearling could race into oblivion and never feel the difference in his body and the speed he gained. As the miles stretched and he began to seek out Qiao, the child had grown heavy and Stormchaser’s jaw had become cramped with the effort it took not to sink his teeth into the pup.

When he met the crone, his bloody leg had crusted over. The marking of fangs against his shoulder itched and burned. The familiar dropped @Riot on the ground, nudging his small head with a huff through his nose.

He did fine. Squirmed more than I wanted.

Being carried was immeasurably tiring.
He is dropped with a soft thud. Sore, but all in one piece.
All other qualms leave his mind when he sees the form of his brother.
Riot wriggles forth to Rowdy’s side.

qiao’s gaze apprised her familiar. he was wounded but alive; blood trickled his leg. everything she saw pointed to non-fatal.

come, she whisked away the mutant boy, who was joined by his wriggling brother. 

she motioned for stormchaser to sit, drawing from her thin furskin a tired sea sponge still damp with salt water. this she pressed to his cuts, inspecting it with a keen eye before setting her tools aside. superficial. go stand in the river for five minutes each morning. qiao growled, turning back to the duo of children. 

qiao’s long fingers jabbed at riot’s flank. give me your name, child. and then to rowdy: and yours, too.

Whoever that idiot had been who had stood so boldly before Stormchaser… the young wolf would not forget his face and he would not hesitate to meet him with snapping teeth and threatening force if they should meet again. A pathetic do-gooder who had thought that by throwing himself in the way, he would spare the children. Most men who acted first did not always have the capacity to think through their plans.

It was fortunate that they had escaped with two of the whelps. Stormchaser looked to young Riot. His eyes glazed over the boy, watching the roundness of his young puppy body as he scrambled toward his brother. Stormchaser wondered if he had ever been so small. It did not feel possible.

When the crone snapped at him to come to her, he turned his attention to her unscathed figure and slunk in her direction. Her instruction was to stand in the river each morning. He nodded, eyes rolling at his own misfortune. When Qiao prodded at the pups, she asked for their names. He too waited to hear the children’s answers.

Wide-eyed, he watches Qiao tend to the young man’s injuries. He was especially intrigued by the tool she used—the sea sponge—as well as the briny scent it emitted. Mouselike, the small boy’s nose twitches as he sniffs the air.
Before he can finish, he feels a jab to his side—the strange woman demands his name.
Riot, he answers. Who you?

the man that raised his teeth to stormchaser would be suitably cursed; qiao would send the first of small hakas his way that night. 

for now the two children captivated her attention. one did not speak - but the other was wide eyed and inquisitive. riot. what a name for so unfortunate a soul. her lips twitched in amusement. i am qiao. you understand that your parents are gone and you cannot go back. stormchaser and i will take care of you. she thumbed towards the other: and this one?

Riot was a strange name. 

Stormchaser squinted at the youngster. He had some spunk to him, if nothing else. Good and bad... it would mean that he'd probably be a handful to deal with. It would also mean that he would have some sense of preservation. Already, he didn't squirm quite so much as when they had stolen him away. 

The other child was mentioned and Stormchaser glanced at it with a frown.