Bramblepoint i hope it's already too late

He ended up back in the familiarity of Bramblepoint. By now, enough time had passed that, should he run into anybody who might know Ibis, they probably would have forgotten his scent. It had been a near full turn of the moon since their secret little encounter, and while he occasionally thought of her, he hadn't grown obsessive, nor did he have any desire to be involved in the lives of any children he had helped to create. No, she had a whole dang pack for that, right? She was a leader, and Draper was but a scraggly lone coyote.

So, back to his days of farting around Bramblepoint, mostly avoiding wolves, but not totally avoiding them, because—let's be real—he was starved for social interaction. He did kinda wonder if Ibis still held that open invitation to her pack, but maybe that was rescinded the moment they had their fun.

The evening sky was growing dark, birds getting their last chirps out, and Draper stood near a tree, using its bark to scratch a hard-to-reach spot on his hip.

*takes every thread u have*

wolves and dogs and coyotes and foxes were all the same to bathsheba, though the very last slightly resembled something more akin to her than to a canid. and yet she disdained them with her long strides.
she had not yet come this far; the lynx was enjoying her languid move to designate the boundaries of the land where she would reside, bison in the midst and outlying lands secondary. this forest piqued her enough to enter, but the reek of coyote had struck her nostrils almost at once.
bathsheba slunk closer, curious. outside of a squabble for land or for carrion, she saw no reason why a beast like this might be a threat to her, or she to him. but her wariness was innate; bathsheba chose a tall tree she might climb in threat of danger, and there she stood, watching the other.

He didn’t see the cat, but he wasn’t really looking, either. Draper was just really glad this tree was scratching that itch that had been bothering him for the past two or three hours. Fur was coming off in clumps; Draper was shedding something fierce!

Aw yeah, that’s the stuff, he said to the open air. When he pulled away from the tree, he turned his head around and reached for whatever remaining fur he could pull off his hip. More came off in clumps, and he breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he let himself flop sideways on the ground.

the individual had not noticed her. coyote, she knew; they lived in packs and kept their own language. if caught by a group of them, it could spell death for the lynx. but this one was alone, and therefore posed no threat to her.
bathsheba wended closer, revealing herself with an elegant leap of her long hinds. the fur that had come off him rolled toward her, and she sniffed delicately at them, gleaning her own messages. "what do the wolves think of you?" she lilted, large paws carrying her a step further.

Now that was a mighty question, and one Draper could have answered a thousand ways for all the thousand wolves he'd met during his lifetime. He'd be more interested to hear what the wolves thought of a fricking bobcat who talked, but he was so dumbstruck by it he couldn't really say. Not only that, but the cat seemed to know that he was decidedly not a wolf. And, well, she wasn't wrong on that.

Depends on the wolf, was the answer he decided to give after a moment.

"at least you get a chance," bathsheba said softly, though she was not truly aggrieved by this. what would she do with the good word of a wolf? it didn't put food in her belly or provide protection.
the coyote had not flinched away from her; the lynx inched only a handful of inches closer before truly pausing to examine him. wolflike and not, foxlike and not. something of both. "i've just moved in. what can you tell me about the place?"

Only sometimes, he assured her with a half-smile. Then again, what would she want with a wolf? The cat had even less in common with them than Draper did, and that was saying something.

Well for one, I'm pretty much the only canine who lives in this here forest, but it's pretty well trafficked. There's wolf packs on just about every side, so you'll wanna keep an eye, ear, and nostril out for 'em. So far the ones here aren't overly hostile, but who knows when that'll change. Once the pups start popping up, I'm sure it'll be a different story.

bathsheba listened quietly as the coyote spoke. he was more informative than she had expected, and her tall ears tilted with interest. pups to come. "that would change things," the lynx commented aloud, though her tones were more for herself than for him. 
bathsheba studied her counterpart for a moment. "and what of you? didn't feel the call this year?" she said in a vaguely teasing way, aware that they did not trust one another, but neither posed an imminent danger to the opposite stranger.

Draper thought of his time with Ibis, but surely nothing came of that, right? And if it did, she’d have a whole pack to look after them. Draper certainly wasn’t going to show up in her doorstep demanding to be a part of their lives. He didn’t want that kind of involvement with somebody he barely knew. It did make him wonder, but he’d leave it be

This place is weirdly devoid of my own kind, he said, implying he would have no offspring this year.

last for meee, gonna retire her for now <3

bathsheba's mouth twitched into a grin. "we are the same in that," the cat bemoaned softly, inspecting a tuft of fur between her claws. "i'll see you around. maybe." hunting called, and the feline restlessness was beginning to make sitting still a bore for bathsheba.
she would think of him in times to come, retreating to her range where shadows swallowed the lynx and hid her from canine eyes.

The cat dismissed herself, and Draper watched as she disappeared into the brush. As for him, he’d continue to wander about, mostly avoiding wolves but probably dropping eaves when he could and watching them from a distance. It was a simple life, really.