Otter Creek Pray or Prey

Set sometime before her visit to BFW

Swift and quiet, Halo loped through a lingering dusk—her favorite time of day—and followed the scent of water. The raven (or crow, she didn't know) was not absent. He swung over her, cawing in his own language, perhaps wanting to pester her, but the yearling was not concerned by his presence. They had just shared a meal; or rather, Halo had eaten what she would of a hare, and he had finished the scraps as she moved on.

Mouth dry and lipsticked with blood, she soon found the source of her search, and the small wolf crouched lightly at a trickling separation of the main creek. Lemon eyes darted back and forth, and briefly she glanced up to see her avian shadow disappear into a small corpse of trees. Should trouble emerge from any other direction, she made a mental note that she would head that way.

The fading light shone off of the waters of the creek, dancing across the earth and flittering about in the leaves of the trees. Kierkegaard sat near the edge, his eyes following the transfixing movements with a lazy sense of interest. He had always enjoyed the dying sun on a late evening. Every day it seemed to change. Depending on where he found himself, the environment was like something out of a fairytale. There, by the water, it was brilliant shades of orange and long casting shadows posing ominous threats. Hidden by the cover of the trees, it was nothing but darkness with the flash of paling sun as it was cast through the thick trunks and branches. Somehow, the tameless beast was always able to find himself transfixed. There was a sound, like the flapping of wings, and Kierkegaard canted his head in the direction of the noise to catch a glimpse of a raven or crow cutting through the boughs of the forest. His golden-orange gaze then lowered to the sight of a swarthy wolf. For a moment, he had thought the wandering creature to have been his sister, but when he caught sight of the stranger’s rich yellow gaze, he knew it not to be so. Frowning thoughtfully, Kierke eyed the peculiar sight with wonder, but remained silent.

She noticed him at almost the same time, a wayward cross-breeze bringing his scent to her that otherwise would have remained downwind. Lemony eyes took in the gray beast and immediately her slender spine prickled. If nothing else, he looked dangerous, more wild and appeasing than most creatures she had seen in her short life. Halo was not intrinsically attracted to menace, but for a moment their hawkish gazes met, and even from this distance she saw recognition fade from his eyes.

He had thought he knew her, even though she knew immediately that she had never seen this wolf before. Quietly interested, the petite creature tentatively moved closer. Her eyes picked a path to their right, across a thin tributary that she would be able to skirt across and dash into the woods if he should prove violent.

Small, sturdy paws linked to skinny black legs drew her within a few yards of him. She didn't speak at first, didn't ask him anything, but Halo watched him closely like a snake watches something larger than it, wondering if it should flee or poison. She tilted her head, easing onto her haunches at a distance safe enough to escape the large male if she saw fit to. After a moment of looking at his broad chest like a biology student studying anatomy, she piped a clear, quiet: "Hi."

There was a moment when Kierkegaard thought that the shadowy female would simply come across him and then meld into the shadows once more. Instead, her wiry frame closed the distance between them with a few short steps on small limbs. He watched her movements with some mild interest. Her framework was small, not remarkable by any means, but still pleasing to look at in some aspects. The dark female’s eyes were a rich shade of lemon yellow. They added a stark contrast to her shadowy pelt. The ash-colored male noted her reactions upon growing closer; she was cautious, quiet, peering at him with her vibrant eyes. He made no effort to move, wondering if he should… if she would be frightened away. Instead, he returned her prolonged stare with his own. His dark lips curling downwards in a thoughtful frown. “Hi.” Her tone was quiet, curious, but not entirely unpleasant. She seemed to have been finished peering at his thick frame, at least for the time being. Nodding his head to her slowly, Kierkegaard blinked before parting his lips. “Hello,” his voice rumbled from his chest like distant thunder. His rough baritone was of startling contrast to her softer tones. Kierke then wondered what had drawn her over to him, other than the need to inspect his physique.

His voice was like a far-off waterfall. Cool and thundering, rumbling deep and quiet inside his chest. Her ears, perked attentively atop her skull, twitched slightly as she considered how to respond. He made no move towards her, which further convinced her to remain seated there, but the small pepper-backed female kept her senses wary for any move the rangy, virile creature might make.

"Who did you think I was?" she asked then, finding a starting point for conversing with a mountain.

conversing with a mountain aww asdjflk i love herrrr

She was soft, pleasant, and so the ashen brute was not perturbed by her presence. Her question struck his ears and he blinked a few times in surprise. The shadowy, narrow female was also perceptive… a rare find. Flicking his long ears forward, Kierkegaard pondered how to answer her. He was not good with words; he was lost when it came to speaking to others, however he was not entirely rude to a fault. Drawing his tongue across his lips in a moment of thought, he flicked his eyes back down to her. “I thought you were my sister,” he responded honestly. If she found it odd that she could have been mistaken for Moz, it was no irritation to him. After all, they were still very much strangers. He knew only what he could see of her. “You are much smaller than she, though,” he padded his first comment with a slight frown. Moz was built with the bloodline of the Sairensu wolves. This nimble shadow was something of the opposite.

<3

Her size demanded that her mind be sharp. There were very few creatures (especially of her own species) that she could overpower. If she had not become intuitive, watchful, then she might have died long ago. Halo was surprised to find that she resembled his sister, if only in coloration. Her tall ears gave an interested twitch, and she tilted her narrow skull at him.

"Is she missing?" she wondered aloud, knowing that she had technically been missing from her own family for longer than she could aptly remember. She cared so little about them all now, that she wasn't even sure she recalled their names. "What's her name?" she pressed slightly, if only because she felt half-interested in siblings that actually knew one another.

"What's your name?" she asked after a quiet lull between blackbird and ash tree.

“Is she missing?” He could not help that his gaze softened slightly on the smaller wolf. In one way or another, the two traveling siblings were always missing from each other. Still, they seemed to find their way back. Flicking his ears back slightly, the larger male shook his head to her. “No,” he responded plainly. As long as Moz was still in the Teekon area, she was not considered missing. And he was, in no way, her keeper. She was allowed to go and come at her leisure. It did not stop him from worrying, however. “Her name is Moselotte,” he answered, in regards to her second question. “Moz,” he then added with a slight cock of his head to the left. It was a very rare occasion that he called his sister by her full name. Even in their younger years, she had always been Moz. “And I am Kierkegaard.” He blinked slowly, drawing his ears so that they would face forward once more. His eyes scanned her face for a few long seconds before he opened his mouth and gaped uncouthly. “And… what is your name?” Kierkegaard’s voice was slow, as though he wasn’t entirely sure how to word his question properly. His brows narrowed on his forehead and he frowned slightly, awkwardly.