Mudminnow River feelin’ kinda sunday

There was part of Druid that feared leaving Rivenwood again, as if her momentary departure had somehow invited the cougar’s attack. As that grisly scene faded in her rear view mirror, the trepidation eased and her determination grew. She meant to gather another cattail—two, ideally, one for @Witch and another for @Heda—and Druid would be lying to herself if she denied that she’d had her first taste of the wilderness and wanted more, colossal cats aside.

Cautiously, she departed the borders to venture along Mudminnow River once more. She remembered roughly where the cattails grew but became more than a little distracted by the distant honking of geese. Her mouth flooded with purple even as she realized, not without some confusion: was that noise coming from ground level versus somewhere overhead?

She tracked it around a river bend, stopping when she saw a cluster of geese further along the shore. She huffed under her breath when she noticed the cattails just beyond them, though Druid’s attention soon fixed upon the birds. Even from back here, she could tell they were much larger than she ever would have expected.

A faint breeze tickled past, drawing their odor into the young wolf’s nose. She abruptly realized this must mean she was upwind and she slowly lowered into a crouch, wondering if she could possibly attempt to capture one…

witch's own venture beyond the borders had been largely uneventful, and she had listened with wide and worried eyes as druid had told her the tale. the pale child understood the danger, but for the first time she felt a pang of jealousy— she wanted to find the stories and bring them back to rivenwood. that her sister had returned home safe was ultimately what mattered, and so witch had spent the night close at her side, vowing to never again let druid face such danger alone.

so, when signs of druid's movements through rivenwood drew nearer and nearer to the borders, witch's determination to catch up and find her grew. her speed increased, a thumping in her heart, until her salt-and-pepper sister's scent was carried on the wind. the metallic taste of dread did not accompany it, and so the pale witchling relaxed as she approached to quietly settle at her sister's side.

she could smell the geese, too, and though witch did not consider herself a hunter, she wanted to kill with her sister as she had with heda— to dance beneath falling feathers. to perhaps bring home a head to join the wing as yet another trophy.

Druid didn’t react to Witch’s sudden presence at her side other than to flash her sister a fond smile to say, Glad you’re here. Her attention returned to the flock of geese milling about the muddy bank, mismatched eyes bouncing from one to the next as she tried to sort out which one would make the most suitable target.

She was so caught up in her assessment, she didn’t notice when one of the geese spotted the two sisters and promptly let out a hiss. It wasn’t until it added an indignant honk and began beating its wings that Druid noticed, mostly because her mouth flooded with the color purple.

Within seconds, the entire flock began to react to the wolves’ presence by making lots of noise and shuffling rapidly into the water. One or two of them even took to the air in their haste, gliding to land further downriver. Soon there was only the one sentinel left, though it turned and waddled away at speed after issuing a final hiss of warning.