Duskfire Glacier stir fry

for my katsu curry bean!

the group has settled in the best they could.  she is excited to see them all here, flourishing.  some part of her is worried that she will be outcast because she is not one of them.  although she hails from the north she does not speak their language, and she has been ostracized enough for her inability to meld with the rest of the world.  

still, there is hope.  there are children here who might be raised beneath her wing (if shivali would be kind enough to let her influence them in any way).  the horde of toys was a separate area from that which she had led shivali to rest, but she was hoping that she could come across one of the children and show them the treasures that lay inside the glacier.

she has her nose to the ground following the scent of shivali when she comes across the trail of @Currituck, the oddball, and follows it instead.

The glacier becomes the same as every other place. They find a place to sleep for a few days and then they move on. Some longer than others. Some not long at all. She doesn’t get too attached to their settings—and good riddance, too.

It’s cold as fuck.

Currituck makes her way out of the divot in the ice where Shivali and Tahani trade off with the puppies. A curvature in the ice gives them protection but she still shivers every so often. The ice beneath her feet is slick and she struggles to make her way up the incline. If she thought real hard on it, she might have realized it was on purpose but she yaps her displeasure anyway. After a while of slipping and sliding, she works her nails into the sheet of ice and hoists herself up and over onto flat land. It’s still ice and she still slips but she’s up and at ‘em.

She spots a stranger in the distance (though familiar) and bounces haphazardly in her direction until she finds some solid ground.

a small bark echoes through the glacier's cave systems, a smile spreading over her thin inky lips.  the sliding is something that even mirabelle with her arctic heritage had to work through.  the cold, too.  her summer coat was not as protective as her dense winter pelt, so she'd kept mostly to the forest until the family had returned.

currituck, she offers softly, a glow in her yellow-green eyes, would you like to come with me for the day?  perhaps the child is tired of travel but from her experience, somehow — somehow — all the walking in the world cannot tire them out.  

The stranger greets her and she smiles something lopsided, shadowed by overgrown limbs and floppier-by-the-day ears. “Ya!” she shouts, rushing up to the other woman. Of course, she hits a patch of ice that sends her face first into the ground but she’s back on her feet the next instant. She doesn’t really know what she’s been told but the lady knows her name and asked something in such a sweet way, there is no denying her. Her tail beats rapidly back and forth, waiting for instruction.

she comes to the conclusion that this child has been taught nothing about stranger danger and that if she were some kid-snatching pervert it'd be easy enough to dangle a lollipop in front of her face and take her.  she, of course, says nothing about this.  

her nose lowers to the ground next to the child as she falls, but currituck is up again quickly.  how sweet she is.  we will go outside of the glacier today, if you would like.  you can come meet my chickens.  but they are not for eating.  if you are nice to them, they will give you something to play with.

With the nose closer to her, Currituck offers several licks to the side of the woman’s face. Her body squirms back and forth and offers the kisses for as long as they’re allowed.

As the woman speaks more, words she doesn’t really understand—all her caretakers spoke in their native tongue—and only a few pop out from before they started traveling. But! She did mention eating and this bitch all about that. A few extra excited yaps pierces the air, waiting to find more food.

the child's kisses stir something deep within that had been buried, some kind of misplaced maternal instinct.  she allows the contact so long as currituck desires, and then leads the way into the forest at the foot of the glacier.  here it is warmer than the glacier yet still cooler than the lands around it; dense foliage canopy shields them from much of the sunlight.  on the edge of the forest lay her chickens, exactly as she left them.

she stepped towards them easily, calling out to them with small herding notes, and pulled them from the makeshift nests they had built to reveal perfectly-shaped eggs.

The cool air isn’t so bad when they’re off the ice, touching the ground more moderately cool. She’s used to warmer temperatures and her coat is too thin for the harsh, northern winters her caretakers wish to replicate. They’ll be gone in a few days, anyway, and hopefully the next place won’t be so bad.
 
The forest feels a little like she’s used to, where she spent the first few weeks of her life. The memories are foggy with all the things happening lately but they’re still there and she dances after the woman. Her focus is easily distracted, blue eyes absorbing everything around with increased interest. The only thing to really pull her mind away is the distant sound of clucking and other odd sounds, large ears cupped forward. Misplaced excitement swells in her chest and her pace slows, occasionally flicking her gaze to Mirabelle and follows along after her as she exists the last of the trees.
 
Eventually, the little girl comes to a start, eyes narrowing as she flickers from one to the next. She doesn’t exactly know what she’s doing but it feels Important. Mirabelle is lost from memory entirely as she zeros in on one and she barrels in as fast as her tiny legs will carry her, sending the birds a’cluckin!

she does not quite know how well she expected this to go.  her attention is grasped by the frightened gaggle of chickens, and she turns around quickly to look.  what currituck does is instinctual, but mirabelle still sweeps in front of her to block her from the flock.

she is not worried about the child ruining the progress she has made with the chickens.  trust can be re-built.  but for now she shakes her head, and nudges currituck towards the nests with a gentle prod of her nose.  

Currituck can’t even imagine the excitement that’s about to happen. There’s so many of them! If she loses one, she’ll have another. Surely, she can get at least one of them!
 
But she is forced to skid to a stop, slamming a little roughly into Mirabelle’s legs as she cuts off. As much as she lacks any sort of hunting skill, any grace is lost too. Currituck slams into the ground and groans, looking up as the other shakes her head. Her brows knit together and she rolls over with the nudge, reluctantly picking herself up to her feet. Whatever she has to show her isn’t as exciting and she turns her head over her shoulder to watch the chickens begin to collect themselves and come together as a group once more.

perhaps this wasn't a good idea.  the chickens were certainly going to be much more entertaining than these eggs.  she feels a little defeated, but with a soft mouth she gently picks up one of the eggs and places it in front of currituck.  she nudges it as it wobbles along, and it bumps against currituck's paws.

eat.

After enough encouragement to the nests, she looks back around in time to see Mirabelle move away and busy herself with something else. Wasn’t this supposed to be fun? Brows knit together and she lifts her paw to do anything but this but something is set down and nudged in front of her. Pale eyes look up at the white woman, tail slowly gaining speed. Eat? She knows that word but this doesn’t look like food. Currituck carefully lowers her nose and touches it, sending it rolling a few centimeters. 

The puppy licks it, immediately collecting dirt as it rolls, but eventually she figures out how to scoop it up in her mouth. A little pressure doesn’t do much but her sharp teeth scrape against the shell but doesn’t yet bare down with any force.

she watches currituck first, guages the child's level of confusion.  so she knows to put it in her mouth (which means, she knows the word eat) but not what to do with it... or perhaps she is just not strong enough.  mirabelle leans back over the nests and plucks another egg.  she lowers her head in front of currituck and uses her mouth to crack the egg, and then she deposits it on the ground.

rich yellow spilled from the crack and onto the dirt, and a sweet smell filled the air.

As if reading her mind, Mirabelle turns and picks up her own egg for instruction. Eyes study the woman, noting the jerk of her mouth as she cracks the egg, and then sets it on the ground between them. As soon as the sweet smell touches her mouth, drool drips to the ground. An excited glance shoots between the woman and the ground, slowly inching forward to sniff at it. Her motivations change, dropping her egg to the ground (which surprisingly doesn’t crack) to lap at the other one. Carefully, she puts her teeth on either side and crunches the already broken shell. It leaves a weird taste and texture in her mouth that she tries to lap out but zeroes in on the yolk captured in one cup.

there is finally some excitement there, which to mirabelle makes the entire trip worthwhile.  she watches as a line of drool spills from the girl's lips around the egg she holds before she drops it to make after the sweet yolk that is spreading across the frosted dirt.  

she puts her teeth on the shell and breaks it, and mirabelle offers her a happy, encouraging noise.  she collects the egg that was dropped (which had rolled a few inches away) and brings it back to the girl.  she grips it gently between her teeth and breaks it ever so slightly so it might be easier for the girl, whenever she is ready.

She can’t decide if she likes the taste of the yolk, her whiskers pulled back as she continues to lap at its innards. It’s not sweet like milk and it’s not chewy like the regurgitate they sometimes get. She can’t necessarily eat it unless she eats the shell and that is a whole other thing in itself. Movement from the corner of her eyes catch her attention and she pivots her rear around the egg to look up as the woman takes her other egg—how dare!—and she pauses mid-lap, mouth agape. When the woman cracks her egg, her head shoots straight up. Yolk and membrane line her mouth as it snaps together, looking wholly offended the woman cracked her egg!

her head shoots up alongside the girl's and her eyes widen in surprise as the child gathers up her features into something displeased.  she sweeps her head back around to the nest and grabs the last egg from it, uncracked and whole, and drops it in front of the girl.

i have gathered many more for us, back at the glacier.  this is not all.

Not entirely sure what to do with the situation, Mirabelle quickly rectifies before retaliation is considered. She turns and retrieves another whole egg and places it near to her. Currituck licks her lips free of the mess she’s made, forgers both cracked eggs, and hops over them to scoop up the whole one. Forgetting the crime, Currituck bounces back with a wild tail and dashes off as fast as her little puppy legs will carry her.

O H        N O
ABORT MISSION

this puppy was not about to run away on her watch.  she let currituck get a head start but kept close behind; her legs were fortunately longer and therefore faster than the pup's (but for how long that would last, she didn't know).  

you aren't supposed to run with food in your mouth, she teases, trying not to let the anxiety creep into her voice.  if she loses shivali's (possibly stolen) pup, she will have hefty consequences to face that... to be honest, she does not want to consider.  she'd rather just run.

oh well.  where are you headed?

Currituck does not know where she is going, just that she is. A smile is plastered on her features, stretched by the egg she so gently carries in her mouth. Mirabelle follows after and her tail lashed back and forth, as if on cue with the change of direction. She has barely had the time to stretch her legs, always limited to the little group, but she’d traveled away from them and they hadn’t come after her (it is no different than with the dark wolf she found). The woman’s voice draws her attention but she does not understand the words, turning her head back to peer at the one pursuing her.
 
For a while she runs, never too far ahead of her companion but she enjoys the chase nonetheless. Zigzagging her way through every obstacle and she’s likely turned herself around more than once, simply exhausting the energy pent up for weeks!
 
As if on cue from karma, the leggy puppy stumbles over something and hits the ground, her teeth clanking together despite the egg between them.

the child does not watch where she is going.  their eyes lock for one dramatic, soap operatic second before currituck's chest connects with the ground, and mirabelle skids to a stop to avoid trampling her.  as she looks down at the child she sees the yolk pouring from between currituck's lips (for which she is thankful; this could have ended with a short episode of suffocation and one very dead puppy).  

as her surprise wanes, she prods currituck with her nose just in case she's broken somewhere.

It takes a few seconds and a nudge to shake her head and start to spit out the crushed shell and broken yolk. It’s not the same before, filled with dirt and maybe blood. Licking at the roof of her mouth a little seems to help and she shakes her head a second time, trying to brush off the incident. Currituck isn’t entirely sure what to make of what just happened; nothing in particular hurts and she’s stunned, brimmed with emotions. She turns her head and peers up at Mirabelle with owlish, apologetic eyes.

she lets out a hum of reassurance as the girl looks up to her.  it seems as though the shell might have scraped the top of her mouth, though there isn't anything here that can help.  maybe some of the snow would, when they were back at the glacier.

are you ready to head back?

Currituck slowly turns to face Mirabelle head on, looking up at her. A half-hearted smile forms when she’s reassured and she takes a step closer, standing under the protective frame of the woman. When asked, by the indication of her tone, the girl slowly nods her head.
 
Embarrassment is short-lived, for by the time they get moving, she weaves in and out of her legs all the way back to the glacier. It’d be a surprise if neither one of them fall again.