The Heartwood do well; do good

@Caracal

Stalking was fun and all, but eventually Diantha got bored (or run off). Whatever, she could find some other way to pass the time. There were boatloads of wolves around here, and surely one of them was bound to be amusing. Still hungry, she did manage to find some days-old carrion preserved by the snow that would tide her over a little while longer. She had always been small, but the winter and her lack of hunting skills had really thinned her out. It was a good thing that she had all this fur to keep her warm, because her body fat sure wasn't doing her any favors.

Her belly round from the latest meal, she lay prone on a large snow-covered log, soaking up whatever warmth the sun would give her this afternoon.

He kind of missed having @Killdeer around—he hadn’t seen him since playfully abandoning him on his potty break—but it was kind of fun roaming around entirely on his own. He did hope his nephew had made it back to Emberwood, where he planned to return at some point. He didn’t want to travel solo forever…

He spent the morning picking his way around the great lake’s shoreline, scouting for food. He ate a dead fish he found, though it tasted pretty gnarly. Caracal then drifted westward toward some woods he’d passed through before. Maybe he could take a nap.

But karma came for him. Within moments of breaching the edge of the forest, he experienced a telling churn in his gut. Oblivious to his unwitting audience on a nearby log, Caracal moaned and squatted abruptly, loosing his bowels in a gush of diarrhea.

Diantha was half-lidded when she heard the commotion followed by the absolutely awful smell. Within seconds, she was retching, depositing her own bodily fluids to the ground. Well, that wasn't how she had wanted her day to go. Not only had she lost her food, but the smell. It was fucking terrible.

What the fuck—gag—did you eat?!

He was totally helpless to do anything but squat there while his bowels spasmed endlessly. When he heard someone coughing close at hand, he swiveled his head to look over in that direction. He should’ve felt embarrassed, especially shitting out his insides in front of a young lady, but all Caracal could do was throw his head back and moan again.

A rotten fish, he groaned at the heavens. Fuck meeeee, he added as the fountain of diarrhea finally ran dry and his shit show concluded with a very loud and even more relieving burst of flatulence.

His stomach stopped cramping and he was able to raise his hips. Well, that was pretty shitty, he declared, eyes roaming back to the young age-wolf.

He just noticed the puddle of vomit. He felt kind of bad but Caracal laughed loudly at discovering his bowel movement had actually prompted someone to barf. He couldn’t wait to brag to Killer.

Shit, sorry, he apologized between snorts of laughter, bending over double again at the unintended pun. The laughter combined with the posture resulted in a fresh round of machine gunfire farts.

Well, this wasn't how she usually went about wooing men... well, he looked more like a boy to her.

She got up in his personal space, sniffing him for any signs of a pack. The last thing she wanted was for Brechliant to find her and force her to go back there. She was never going back there; that much she knew. No signs of a pack on this one, which was a good omen.

The smell still lingered, now mixed with the smell of her own vomit, and Diantha, stepped away, assuming he would follow.

Why you eating rotten fish? Can't you hunt? Nevermind that Diantha couldn't. That wasn't the point.

Despite the puddle of sick, she didn’t seem particularly deterred. In fact, she came closer to sniff at him. Caracal wrinkled his nose, imagining he smelled like exactly one thing: shit.

But he otherwise welcomed her proximity, particularly now that he noticed she was rather pretty. He grinned at her, tail waving, happily falling into step beside her so they could leave behind all the smelly bodily fluids.

Sorry about… whatever the shit that was, Caracal said, managing to bite back a snort. I’m dece, he answered her question, but I haven’t had much luck the last few days. I figured it was free food, though I guess I paid a price in the end, or more like out the end.

Hey, what’s your name? I’m Caracal, he introduced as they moseyed through the woods, the air smelling fresher with every step.

You're Dece? she asked, thinking it was his name, then realized what he was saying. Oh, decent at hunting. Well, that wasn't exactly a gold star, but it was a whole lot better than she could say of herself. Well, truthfully anyway. Not that Diantha was bound by a code of honor to always tell the truth.

I'm Rose, she said without skipping a beat. No sense in handing out her real name, lest her guardians try to come looking for her. The last thing she needed was a witness who could lead them back to her.

What do you say we try and hunt something a little more fresh?

That’s a super pretty name, Caracal replied, his words as generic as they were heartfelt. You can call me Cackle or Cal if you want, he told her, eager to let such a pretty girl call him by his more casual-sounding nicknames.

He was just about to ask her where she lived, if anywhere, when she cut across his thoughts with a question. Sure! I’ve only ever hunted smaller game, so maybe some rabbits or something?

He promptly began to pay less attention to Rose and more attention to their surroundings. He liked feeding people—he often provided meals to Killdeer—which made sense with his vocation. He just hoped he could manage to succeed after falling short lately.

She grinned at his admission that he liked her name. Perhaps she wasn't so bad at this after all. Bat your eyes enough times, and eventually you'll find a gullible dude. Well, Cal, that's really nice of you to say. Maybe it was easier with the younger ones. Then again, they were a lot less valuable. They didn't have the same refined skillset as the older wolves, from what she understood. Still, he would have to do. Or she'd ditch him pronto.

He mentioned rabbits, and a frown settled on Diantha's face. That's all you can get for me? I'll bet we could take down something bigger if it were the two of us. She was hankering for a bigger meal that would last her more than an evening.

His easy smile faltered at the displeased look on her face. He was only being honest and realistic. He supposed he could take a risk. Caracal could be pretty daring at times. Hell, he’d managed to keep himself and his nephew alive all by himself for a while now, hadn’t he?

But he couldn’t bring himself to put Rose at risk. It went against his nature. Frowning apologetically, he admitted, I don’t think I have enough experience to pull that off… Caracal wanted to hunt with her, impress her even, but he didn’t want to get either one of them killed in the process. He wasn’t really one for peacocking.

But hey, he added quickly, I’ll make sure it’s a fat rabbit. And you can have the whole thing. My stomach could use a break after… He gestured vaguely with a slender red leg.

Yeah, I guess that's okay. I'll wait here? It was tempting to seek out somebody with a little more to offer, but even if she could get a small bite to eat, it would stave off the hunger for a little while more. Besides, what did she have to lose by waiting? It wasn't like she had some hot hunk trying to serve her a meal every day.

What? he blurted when she told him she would stay put. I thought you wanted to hunt together, Caracal said, genuinely confused by the turn this conversation was taking.

Oh, you must have misunderstood! she said. I'm like, so bad at hunting, I'd just get in the way, y'know? Like maybe I could flush out some bigger game, but rabbits are way too flighty, and they always notice me way before I want them to. She gave a half-hearted "what can ya do?" shrug, hoping he'd understand. And if not, well, she'd find somebody more willing to do her bidding.

He didn’t have the presence of mind to control his expression, so he pulled quite the face when Rose insisted he’d misunderstood. It cleared up quite a bit when she explained that she was very bad at hunting. She insisted she would only get in his way.

Caracal paused, face thoughtful now. He didn’t actually mind hunting for her, though he was used to working with a partner. Having some assistance usually proved more successful—hence his lack of eats since ditching Killer—but he wasn’t totally inexperienced at capturing small prey on his own.

Okay… yeah, you can hang out here and I’ll be back soon, hopefully. If I don’t catch anything within, say, three hours, I’ll be back to let you know. Sound good?

this leads well into my next thread; thank you!

Three hours?!

Sounds perfect, Diantha said, hiding her disappointment. She knew for a fact there was no way she was going to wait that long for food, no matter how plump the rabbits were.

She made it all of five minutes after he was out of eyesight before she split. Disappointed by yet another dude. One day she'd snag a good one, she was certain of it. For now, she wanted to get this taste out of her mouth and at least fill her belly with water.

He kinked his paw in a wave before bounding deeper into the woods, determined to rustle up some grub for Rose. But as an hour passed, then two, Caracal could scarcely find any fresh scent trails. He was about to give up and return empty-handed, already dreading Rose’s inevitable disappointment, when he came across a stream and discovered an entire dead doe floating in the icy water.

He approached the bloated corpse, wondering how on earth she’d died here. But he didn’t dwell on it long. Caracal latched onto her nearest leg and tugged her carcass halfway out of the water, then fell upon the waterlogged flesh where her limb attached to her torso. In moments, he had detached it.

Picking up his prize, he galloped haphazardly toward the area where he’d left Rose. But she wasn’t there. Caracal spun in a circle, the disembodied leg nearly snagging in a bush. He thought he might be in the wrong place, but when he looked down, he could see their paw prints in the snow.

Apparently she hadn’t waited. He shrugged to himself and began loping eastward, headed back in the direction of the mountains and Emberwood on the far side. Maybe Killdeer would accept this hunk of meat as an apology for ditching him earlier.