Heron Lake Plateau The Elgar Cello Concerto- but not Yo Yo Ma's version.

WC: 584

Mornings were no longer an issue for Niamh, as the frost nipped at everything under the sun's awakening eye, but not on those who slept beneath the shelter of the ground as Niamh and Colt did. The den she had dug for them protected them from the bite of the chilly air, and she'd chosen the location of her den wisely. Having a fairly low, narrow entrance and being situated on the South-facing side of a knoll, and framed by shrubby bushes that were still dense with twigs and branches even though their leaves were gone, they were about as protected from the oncoming onslaught of cold as they could get. When she woke up in the morning in the dark den, she was no longer as reluctant to leave her mate's side, given the fact that she was relatively warm. Nowadays, though, with Ceara missing, Colt was often out searching for a couple days at a time, making it even easier for her to get up in the morning as she was no longer tempted to sleep in longer. It was only when she stepped out into the early morning light that the chill seeped into her fur and made her cough lightly as she inhaled.

She squinted in the bright morning light, and lowered her front half, spreading her toes apart as she stretched, yawning and curling her pink tongue as she audibly drew in a large breath and then exhaled, standing up as she did so. She felt the bones in one of her shoulders crack softly and she smiled to herself. Was she actually beginning to show signs of getting older? Impossible. Niamh was going to stay young forever; she was invincible, so why the heck would she ever age? Even just the idea seemed ridiculous...Though she'd have to face the music someday. And after popping out thousands of children- as she intended to- would likely take its toll on her eventually, but not until she was 10 or 11 years old, right?

She roved away from her den, sniffing around as she did so, and headed off toward the borders with the intention of checking out the surrounding areas to see if Raven and Colt had been by recently. She assumed they would be back later on in the day, as promised. Thus far, they had both been punctal, returning as they said they would, though they hadn't found much to encourage them with regards to their search for Ceara...And now Tegan too, who had apparently gone off to Blackfeather with a wolf from Moonspear. No one seemed to think it was a good idea to send a search party to Blackfeather, though Niamh couldn't help but wonder if they were doing harm by abandoning possibly two of their packmates there, in order to save the rest of them from the potential danger of going there. She hated the idea of forsaking Tegan, and, for Colt's sake, Ceara. But she had begun to muse over the thought of perhaps instead sending someone to Moonspear, to see if their packmate- Llewsomething- had returned. If he had, he might know something of Tegan's whereabouts and if he had not, then perhaps the two packs could rally together to sort Blackfeather out. Regardless, she had a lot on her mind as she trotted along, drawing blanks here and there as she tried to find some way to ease the worry that was hovering over the pack like a dark cloud.

He wasn't sure what was going on, really. One moment, he'd been chilling in the back of the van, eating jerky like the fatass he wasn't; the next, his whole world had gone topsy turvy. Van on fire, the humans seemed rather still and stiff. Some way or another, he'd escaped. Milled about a while, then ran.

He was good at that. Running, you know. His mom was a superstar, and he was well on his way. That was what the trip was for, anyway. To prove himself--to make Ma proud. 

It wasn't a track, but something better. You could actually catch the rabbits out here. 

Sizzle loped, his long legs devouring ground, a speedy wanderer through the open land. This felt GOOD. No rules, no responsibilities. Just sweet freedom. God bless America. 

The scent of many canids all together had always been a sign of good things for the greyhound, so Sizzle didn't balk at the border. Rather, he was excited to smell it -- he was getting lonely, being by himself for so long. The longest period ever, he thought.  Sigh. 

He waltzed onto the plateau and saw the golden female nearby. His eyes lit up and he gave her an excited yip, rushing toward her, wanting to play. 

PLAY!?

Shadowpost, whoops!  XD  Quick, quick, edit the mad sighthound in! ...as my own verysmol version causes a ruckus behind me IRL, for that matter, lulz.
Lurrrcheeerr, though, HNG! *glomphs Sizzle OOCly if not ICly* <3

Everyone seemed to be on edge lately, and Owen didn't much like it. No one had really told him too much of what the reason was, either, probably to try and protect his tender little mind from what were, after all, big fancy important Grown-Up Matters of some sort or another, but Owen being Owen this instead mostly left it open to his own increasingly wild imaginings. He felt kind of pathetic, especially since he was starting to jump at shadows again which really, wasn't he a little old to still be doing? but he also couldn't really help it. He tried to put on a brave face for his sisters, at least...but even though it put his nerves on edge a little more, today he felt the need to go creeping off on his own before the effort of trying to be strong and fearless in front of the girls frayed his self-control even further.

Owen stayed hunched down somewhat as he padded along with all the noise and pride of a hunted mouse. He barely lifted each paw from the ground before skimming it out to place it with gentle caution half-a-step futher forward. But even though the unexpectedly loud call of a corvid far above him made him jump, there was in fact nothing lying in wait and nothing more substantial between him and the convenient resting spot he espied a ways ahead. The little hummock looked a little warmer than its surroundings, with an extra-big shaft of sunlight centered on it like that and a couple of withering flowers and worn yellowing grasses nodding atop it. He kept his eyes darting to and fro and his ears a-swivel at the same time his nose worked overtime as he half-circled the area, nonetheless. Owen tiptoed up the small dirt mound and took in a deep breath, heaving an impressively large sigh of relief for his small frame as he lowered his rump to the sun-warmed earth and still nothing happened to him. He gazed meditatively out across the treetrunk-dappled landscape toward the borders of Redhawk territory and wondered just what it was that had everyone else so jumpy—even the really dull and unimaginative of the adults seemed kind of spooked and irritable. Maybe it was the pond monster not wanting to go into hibernation (probably because Kite had woken it up by flavoring its home with a taste of puppy soup if so, thought Owen with some resentment). Or maybe Aunt Towhee wasn't the only one who'd been turning into birds of late. Or maybe the whole stars-falling-down-from-the-sky episode really was a herald of the apocalypse. Who knew?

Owen's worried attention was focused a little too much on his inner turmoil, and not enough on his outside surroundings: when the swoosh of Niamh's legs through the underbrush approached from the side and behind him, Owen jumped about three feet in the air and then collapsed in a clumsy heap as he simultaneously tried to spin about in the air to see who—or what!—was following him. Oh, h-hello, he said, untangling himself and getting to his feet in some embarrassment as he took a moment to recognize Niamh. Sorry, I uh, didn't see you there. ...Which was probably pretty darned obvious, in hindsight. DUH, Owen. The youngster scuffled his feet a little and bit his lip, lowering his head a little as he willed himself not to say anything to make himself look even stupider or worse, even more of a chicken-hearted scaredy-cat.

And then, with the absolute most abominable timing in the world, there was a high-pitched yip of excitement as out of nowhere the most freakish pseudocanine monster Owen had ever seen came barrelling in at lightspeed straight toward the adult. Owen dove for the nearest prickly-bush with an unearthly, even higher-pitched scream. At least Niamh made a more visible taget than him, thankfully! Owen couldn't help but think as he tried to tuck his tightly-tucked tail and quivering butt deeper into the uncomfortably prickly foliage. He didn't have the first or faintest clue on how to deal with something whose monstrously uncanny speed was so quick to break the sound barrier it whooshed right past every border guard and scent marker the Redhawks could put up in its way. Was this the dire intruder that all the adults had somehow been instinctually fearing all along?! wondered the terrified Owen as he tried to bury his face in the uncomfortably root-hummocked dirt.

So happy both of you joined <3 WC: 502

Lost in her thoughts, Owen wasn’t the only one who was startled at their meeting, and had he not leapt and flopped percussively to the ground, she might not have noticed him at all. At the sudden flurry in movement, Niamh dropped into a defensive crouch, ears flattening and teeth bared- but her expression turned to one of relief and mirth when she realized it was just Owen. He tried to play it off all cool, but she raised one eyebrow. Funny guy. He had the same kind of awkwardness that Quixote had, when he was injured and didn’t want to be pitied, and that was kind of adorable. 

”Heya skipper, didn’t see you either,” She said with a laugh. She moved forward and gave his shoulder a gentle headbutt; the kids were growing up, so they needn’t be babied anymore, and Niamh often expressed fondness through some form of roughhousing. Of course, she wouldn’t haul off and headbutt him in earnest- she knew now how hard her skull really was, and knew that if she hit anyone too hard she’d end up as a ragdoll or worse- like Screech. She opened her mouth to make another comment as she noticed just how high up on her his shoulder was now (kids were growing way too fast) but at the sound of someone approaching she turned casually, and couldn’t believe her eyes.

The canine moved at an impressive speed, but it didn’t look terribly wolfish; more wolf than coyote for sure, but definitely not a wolf. Whatever he was, he was trespassing but Niamh doubted she could chase it out with any success- the long-legged creature was clearly built for speed, so she would have no chances of bringing it down if it ran, and it could likely run circles around her. When it was on the move, it had the absolute upper hand...But then again, there was no hostility in its features at all. No- it bore a goofy, excited look that told her he wanted nothing more than to play and so, making a bit of a tough gamble, she smiled at Owen and nodded. ”Follow my lead, but stay back.” She said, rolling her shoulders to try and shake the tension out of them. She stepped forward a but, so that she would seem as more of a target than Owen, and put all ber chips on the table.

Knowing that charging the dog was useless, she chose a different tactic altogether- but it would be a ride or die sort d pay out. Choosing to believe that maybe all the gangly, deerlike dog wanted was to play, Niamh yipped a high-pitched greeting and jigged forward a few steps, tail waving in an arc behind her before she dropped emphatically  into an enticing playbow. She tilted her head to the side, mouth agape and tonfue lolling out, looking every bit as playful and silly as the creature that galloped toward her. 

If this didn’t work, Colt would kill her.

Ohmygod, she wanted to play, too!! He did some bounces (still running), propelling off his back feet like a coked out kangaroo. Once he drew closer to the pretty girl, he slowed his pace, trotting and wagging his tail in furious fashion. 

Hey, there! Sizzle cried out in his southern drawl, honeyed yet sharp at the same time. Good to see a face 'round here that ain't a rabbit or a bird! He stopped a few paces away from her, tongue lolling as he panted, trying to catch his breath. 

Still completely oblivious of the precariousness of the situation. 

I'm Sizzle, the greyhound offered. Happen to know what this place is called, miss? 'Fraid I'm a little lost. Understatement of the year, but whatever.

*glomps both, and attempts to drag Owen out from his bush by the tail*

There was a particularly pokey branch that was jabbing him in the shoulder in the exact same place as Niamh had a moment ago, only much less comfortingly and in fact rather stabbily opposite of that. Owen shifted over, and then shuffled his position a bit more to peek out upside-down under his belly. He really didn't know about this whole following-the-responsible-adult's-lead business, especially when Niamh now appeared to be... trying to play with the creature?! What?!

A stupefied Owen gawked at the pair of them, taking note of how the long stick-legged creature could almost but not quite speak properly like a wolf, and finding himself somewhat impressed as well as boggled by its deceptiveness. This world was just packed full of all sorts of bizarre and otherworldly creatures, wasn't it. Owen quietly mimicked the "o" shapes he thought his mouth would have to make, to make noises like those with ordinary words. Weird. And well, despite its initial thundering pace, the hairy malformed beast now seemed to be responding almost sanely to Niamh, and not trying to eat her at all, after all. Hhhhuh. Its tongue lolled from its mouth to an almost grotesque length, and caught Owen's eye as it bobbed there midair.

Despite the length of its legs, the almost-canine creature was apparently not part rabbit... nor did it seem to be allied with the birds, some of which Owen knew perfectly well had legs just as long or longer than the speedy lagomorphs', given the native inhabitants of their local lake. What the heck was it then, though? Owen had never seen anything like it. And Niamh didn't seem nervous at all anymore, from the way she was acting, so whatever this monstrous beast was it obviously wasn't the dread creature all the adults had been fearing an invasion from all along. Owen decided it was safe enough after all to rearrange his pose and—while still carefully keeping his body contained within the prickly-leafed and rough-barked branches' embrace, uncomfortable though that still was—poke his nose out just far enough to get a little better sniff of this freakish stilt-legged thing that was trying to interrogate Niamh. And then maybe play with her. And then maybe eat her afterwards still, who knew. Stay back—yeah, that Owen could do, at least.

WC: 1021

Poor Owen remained more or less where he was, having shot benetah the shrub, but Niamh didn't mind, just in case the wolfdog wasn't being honest about his intentions. The last thing she wanted to do was to have to explain to Owen's parents that she'd gotten him injured because she'd decided to try a different tactic when it came to taking down a trespasser. Owen was safe as long as he kept back a bit, though he clearly didn't look as though he understood, whatsoever, why she had chosen to do what she was doing. She would explain later- as long as there was a later, of course. This fine-limbed fellow was wicked fast, and there would be few opportunities for her to catch him and bring him down to punish him for trespassing. What Owen didn't know, was that this was Niamh's plan all along- she didn't want to play with the strange creature whatsoever, she wanted to hurt him, since chasing him out could prove to be futile, with the speed he had.

As swift as he was, there was no doubting the fact that Niamh would never be able to catch him unless he tripped up. So chasing him from there to the borders, he could give her the slip and arc around so that he could easily go further into their territory. What she needed to do, then, was to injure him so that he couldn't run- at least not as fast- and then either kill him or chase him out and make sure that he left without ever considering the possibility of coming back. But to catch a fellow so fast would be nearly impossible so instead she'd resorted to playing whatever game it was the bouncy, long-faced creature wanted, as his mannerisms mocked those a young wolf would do to encite play. His large, expressive eyes looked so hopeful, and so pleased to see that she'd bounded a few stape and lowered into a play bow. He fell for it. He was falling for her lure, which was exactly what this whole game was.

If she couldn't catch him, she'd need to draw him in close so that she could simply grab him when he came near enough to her. Some wolves she might be able to seduce, but that had never been Niamh's forte. She'd never been the ultra-feminine femme fatale that her older sister could be, nor did she want to be. She was happy enough rubbing elbows with Ambrose and tackling him whenever he wasn't prepared for her to do so. So with this male, she had to use another tactic but fortunately, it seemed to work- as odd as it was. Owen still looked gobsmacked, but she left him where he was as long as he chose to stay back a bit. This creature had a long muzzle, which meant long ros of sharp teeth that could easily grab and slash. Niamh wasn't about to let him get anywhere near Owen, even if it meant endangering herown life.

When the male talked, it was with a strange accent that she had only heard once before- it reminded her vaguely of a wolf she'd met once, the pale, pretty white female who had managed to steal a, old deer carcass away from Niamh in a grotesque game of tug-o-war. But the accent on this guy was much stronger. Despite that, though, it was plain as day that he was happy to see other wolves, and he said as much as he came to a stop, his seemingly endless tongue hanging happily out the side of his mouth. Niamh kept her act together, lifting herself up out of her play bow, but she kept her tail waving in an almost circular pattern, and ears pricked in interest. ”Good to see you too,” She greeted, her voice warm and genial, fairly honest for Niamh who wasn't necessarily the best of actors. This was her first time using a plot like this, after all, so she couldn't be expected to nail it.

He introduced himself, and Niamh almost felt a bit sorry for him. He was just like a big puppy, having bounded into the wrong place. She still wasn't entirely sure what he was, whether he was part wolf and part some other canine, or what. Curiosity began to get the better of her, but she was willing to allow it- in the hopes that she might be able to make him relax a bit more, maybe sit down or lay down, and allow her to get a bit closer. ”I'm Niamh, and that's Raptor,” She said, gesturing toward Owen. Hey- he was someone else's kid, she wasn't going to go telling strangers who exactly he was, just the same way you ought not post pictures of someone else's kid on Facebook without first asking permission. And of all strangers, this Sizzle was perhaps the strangest she'd ever seen. She didn't gesture for him to come forward as she still wanted him to hang back a bit. She would keep Sizzle preoccupied for a bit.

When he explained that he was lost, she began to understand a bit more why he had ended up where he was. Just because he had a long muzzle didn't mean that his sense of smell was the best, she reminded herself. The way his eyes were shaped, and their placement, told her that he was probably quite keen of sight, and maybe relied less on his sense of smell for hunting. She nodded. ”White Tail Marsh,” She replied, gesturing to the area. Of course, the plateau did have a fair amount of water ways in and through it, so the name wasn't too much of a fail. Playfully, she tilted her head to the side, and gave him a curious smile. ”I have to ask though...What exactly are you? I've never seen anyone like you before,” She enquired, just so that at least she had an idea of what she was- and could ask around to see if anyone else had ever come across something like him.