Noctisardor Bypass aulana

skaigona came to the conclusion that her mother was not returning, though after worripa did. as with her brother, this caused the child to withdraw from the active play she shared with her milk-sisters, more and more to the edges of the den or the clearing in which they played.
today she stared down at a butterfly. how did they come to be? did bugs also have mothers?

While Skaigona contemplated a butterfly, Wylla, who was waylaid in her path by the sight of the hunched pup, contemplated Skaigona. She was at first surprised to discover the absence of the paranoia she felt whenever she saw the other three Rivenwood cubs, but quickly worked out that it was by virtue of Skaigona's colouration.

Unlike Druid, Worripa, and Witch, Skaigona bore no grey in her hide to connect her even tentatively to Mahler and bore no resemblance to wolves she could not stand, either, which freed her entirely from her obsession with finding lies and offense where only truth had been spoken.

It was so liberating that Wylla even cracked a grin as she continued down the path, pausing nearby and tilting her head conspiratorially before whispering, dare you to eat that.

the sound of the other's voice made the child jump a bit, and she ogled upward at the pleasant grin and the empty eye socket. fear would have risen then, had not skaigona recognized the scent of their home, of the dark man, and the reminiscence of the fairy-wolf who had told her secrets beside the pool.
small head snapped back 'round. the winged insect had begun to flutter away. encouraged, skaigona pounced, and then again, snapping into the tiny body with a quick lash of her tail.
"bleh!" she spat it out, looking now suspiciously in the stranger's direction. "tase bad!" but the butterfly was forgotten soon. skaigona sniffed toward the grownup. "what you'naym?"

There was no way this kid was gonna eat a pretty butterfly. Most kids in Wylla's experience — that being only her own children — were quite taken with the insects, more inclined to follow and try to collect them than to eat them. Skaigona seemed like the type who would never hurt a butterfly.

But then she did it.

Ohmygod, Wylla blurted without thinking. She tried to keep a handle on herself, but there was no stopping the way she cracked up when Skaigona spat the butterfly on the ground with a sour look. Even if the girl was a dead ringer for Mahler, she would have cracked up despite herself, but with Skaigona being so clearly not the Graf's child, it was that much easier to let loose. She spluttered with laughter for a second, slapping the ground with one white paw. I can't believe you actually ate that!

You're gonna shit butterflies now! It was a total lie, but why not make a game out of it? Wylla hadn't expected Skaigona to be so gullible. It was easy to forget how trusting and naive children were once yours were grown up. I'm Wylla, she said when she caught her breath, resident, uhhh, butterfly butt doctor! We need to get you some berries, STAT!

the little lip went out; skaigona was young but not so young as to not understand when she was being laughed at. the small wisp of a tail stood out stiffly behind her, and tears began to roll into the saucer of her eyes until the other's excitable voice distracted her again.
"butt doctor," she mumbled. "wyllam." a second. wyllam hadn't exactly made the best impression upon her, and skaigona glanced dourly at the remains of the butterfly. "s'it!?" she questioned loudly, coming to stand alongside the other at the prospect of sweet and round things, though she remained a bit suspicious.
"where berries, wyllam?" and then, "wat s'it!?"

Oh, god, this was just too good. Skaigona was young enough to not entirely understand what Wylla was saying. Maybe she could get away with this, after all. Anyway, it wasn’t like Sequoia would be able to trace her ward’s pottymouth back to Wylla, specifically. All adults swore. Skaigona could conceivably pick up that language anywhere.

It was complicated somewhat by the fact the girl did understand her name, and promptly attached the Butt Doctor title to it. Wylla grimaced inwardly. That was probably going to stick. Maybe no one would have any idea what Skaigona was talking about if she referred to Wylla as the butt doctor. She was certainly no doctor of anything, least of all butts.

Oh, right, the girl’s questions. You know, um … Blow mud? Dump a stump? Park some bark? Liberate the brown trout? Do the royal squat? No, that likely wasn’t going to work. With a sigh, Wylla crouched and said, as plainly and clearly as she could, you’re. Gonna. Poop. Butterflies.

What a terrifying, and terrifyingly false, diagnosis. But don’t worry! Wylla said cheerfully, straightening up. We just have to find you some berries. They grow near the water. Do you know where the water is?

skaigona's eyes turned to saucers of fear.
she stared at the remains of the butterfly, then wyllam again, tucking small tail to her flank.
anxious gut began to burble, and she swore it was the work of wretched little wings.
"water!" skaigona shouted hurriedly, wheeling and darting away for the creekline she had visited quite often, keeping plume between her hindlegs as if to hold the offending butterflies inside!

It was hard not to cackle at the sight of Skaigona hurrying ahead with her tail pressed tightly to her buttocks, like butterflies would come exploding out if she lifted it a smidge. In fact, Wylla failed. She trotted along in the pup's wake, cracking up every few steps, but made an admirable effort to do so silently. Skaigona wasn't stupid, after all.

Oh, Mahler would crucify her for this if he knew. But, well, fuck him. He was pretending to be dad to all these kids, but it wasn't like he was their real father, so he didn't have a right. So what if they got a little dose of life's cruel nature when they were young? It would teach them to be wary, something Wylla thought was very valuable, considering her own life was a true series of unfortunate events.

But she did feel a little bad about Skaigona's obvious fear. Oh well. Too late to turn back now.

There! said Wylla, stopping to point with her muzzle to a bush ripe with blackberries. She would have preferred to suggest mushrooms — oh, how Wylla loved the earthy smell of mushrooms, and how she would love to impart that love upon another — but it wasn't quite time for them. Blackberries were abundant, however, and tasty. Those will cure it!

skaigona discovered moment by moment that the event was not about to happen. the curling of her stomach ceased at the good scent of water. she slowed, panting, but her small head jerked swiftly in the direction that wyllam indicated. "berries," the war-girl huffed to herself, trotting over and beginning to nip at the nearest.
a bee came 'round but did not sting the girl. it merely hovered, watching the pale pup paint herself in purple juice, then zipped away.
"berries help now?" skaigona called distressedly to the butt doctor. she was not particular to their taste.

Wylla grew more amused by the minute. Skaigona wasted no time rushing to the berry bush, but instead of eating them, she smeared her pale coat with them until she was reddish-purple from head to toe. Okay, that happened.

She was tempted to tell her great-neice that it wasn't enough, but Wylla really did feel a little bad about all this, so she rethought it. Yeah, perfect, all better! she called, stifling another snigger by pretending to preen the fur on her chest for a second. Skaigona was going to attract every wasp in the area with her fur all sticky like that, which was a much less amusing thought.

C'mon, let's get you washed up, she said, indicating the stream with a gentle sweep of her muzzle. This was not how she particularly wanted to spend her afternoon, but she was the reason Skaigona was in this mess. The least she could do was help the young pup groom the berry juice from her coat.

fading! <3

skaigona stared at wylla. what was going on? but she knew better than to question an adult for now. as far as she knew, she had been given medicine and would now receive more of a cure. 
she scampered beside the older wolf, audibly bleccing at the taste that the berries had left in her mouth. "not eat that again," she declared, before darting with a noisy splash into the water.
wylla would have her hands full, attempting to bathe this one.