Cedar Sweep ursine

the day is unusually chill; the air sharp and crisp and dry. a short distance away, she can hear a creek bubbling along. it's the sound that draws her as she picks her way between the cedars, navigating them with ease. the terrain of blackfeather is difficult to travel, and she's learned from a young age how to navigate the unfamiliar. 

sunlight begins to dapple the ground more clearly as clouds shift away from the sky above, and the yearling catches the glint of sunlight on water ahead. increasing her pace, she beeline's to the creek's edge, sliding down the bank and thrusting her muzzle into the fast-flowing waters to drink deeply.

It wasn't his best escape attempt- he'd nearly been ratted out by Nellie, after all, but he'd managed to convince his sister that he was just going along the borders, and that he wouldn't go past them. Mom was away anyway, doing some scouting or patrolling or whatever- it wasn't like she had time for them anyway, he thought. She was too busy trying to do her pack business and be all stuffy and adult. Bronco, in the meantime, used this to his advantage, and stayed up all hours of the night, roamed wherever he wanted to, and had begun to take off on short little trips by himself- outside of the pack's borders. 

His excursions thus far had generally been in the same direction- slightly south, following along the river that would lead him straight back home when he was ready to go back. That way, of course, he could leave the pack without leaving a trail behind, and he could also re-enter the pack without leaving evidence that he'd ever left. It would simply look like he'd gone to play in the river, and had returned when he'd felt like it. 

He was fairly cautious of other adult wolves, though, and generally avoided them when he could. He'd hunker down and hide if he heard or smelled another wolf- but when he saw another pup, about his age, in the distance, he pricked his ears. This wasn't a Firebird, this was a stranger. She was a cute young mocha-coloured wolf, and her fur alone set her apart from the majority of Firebird pups who were either greyscale, or red, like Elfie. He wasn't terribly shy of other pups, but he did cast a glance around as he approached her, in case she had a mean parent nearby. 

"You alone?" He asked curiously, wanting to cover his bases first.

she pulls her muzzle from the creek and swivels to where the voice came from, his entire approached missed entirely. the boys she sees a beat later is distinct in that he appears, at first glance, to be nothing like the blackfeather children. their coats hold no warmth, but his is a golden shade that she thinks rather reminds her of a sunset. 

"yeah," she replies first, instinctively and truthfully. she regrets it a moment later; no matter how different he looks, she's come to realize that apart from her brother, children her age are not to be trusted and avoided. "n-no. my brother's here too." at least, being with him seemed to keep the blackfeather pups away from harassing her, so it might work here too.

He flicked his ears forward optimistically when she admitted that she was alone. Good- no adult to fuss over him being out there on his own as well. She then seemed a bit nervous and mentioned a brother, but when Bronco looked around, he saw no sign of anyone else in the area. His brow raised when he realized why she'd said that.

"Hey, chill, it's OK," Bronco reassured her, and gave her a cheshire grin and a wink. He sat down and gave her a once over- she was around the same age as him, right? And there was nothing wrong with them being out alone, right? He was probably wrong about both, he figured- but he didn't care much.  "I ain't gonna hurtcha. I'm Bronco," He said. "Y'wanna see if we c'n catch some fish?" He asked, with the conviction of a professional fisherman.

the boy, in his reassurance and simple kindness, reminded her of her brother. that was enough for her to extend some wary trust towards him, and reply with a soft, "I'm moonshine." he talks about fishing with conviction, and though she's never heard of it, she's intrigued. 

"fishing? how does that work?" the waterways around blackfeather are certainly not ideal for it, and they house more frogs and bones and slimy things than fish. but still, she very much likes catching things, especially frogs, and so adds a "yeah."

Moonshine? Immaturely, Bronco personally though that her name was a bit on the cheesy side- but then again, he couldn't comment as he had nearly been named Nag, and had still ended up being named after some kind of horse. He reminded himself of that, and actually made the right decision for once, and kept his thoughts to himself. "Cool," He commented, figuring that was probably the best thing he could say that he could come up with on the spot that wasn't inappropriate. 

He didn't want to ruin things with her, either- she was pretty, with her slightly lighter markings about her shoulders, and her golden eyes that had a hint of a buttercup gleam to them.  Even if she was a bit on the leggy side, she was definitely cute, and it was a relief for Bronco to fnially meet a girl he wasn't related to. He had to impress her, then, and shrugged one shoulder casually and gestured that she should wade into the water a little bit with him. The waters moved pretty quickly, and made it very hard to see if there were any fish around. It wasn't exactly an ideal spot, but he'd make do. "Ya basically just have to kind of watch for 'em, an' stand still." He said. He frowned a bit, and gestured. "C'mon. This spot's no good. Let's look for somewhere that has slower water," He suggested with a flick of his muzzle.

his "cool" comes just late enough for her to question it, and she tacks on, "you can call me mo. or moony. or whatever." she hasn't had all the much practice introducing herself to strangers and tries to move past it quickly. 

despite his vague instructions, her eyes follow him as if he holds the secret of the universe. she stepped lightly into the water alongside him, gaze moving to peer into the current, searching in vain for a fish-shaped shadow. "who taught you this?" she asks, moving to follow him easily. it's easy to trust in someone so different from the children of the woods.

"Mo?" Bronco asked. He liked it better than Moonshine, and he couldn't imagine calling her something like "Moo," even though he had no idea what a cow even was. "I'll call you Mo. It sounds way cooler," He said. He didn't intend it as an insult, or to insinuate that he thought 'Moonshine" was uncool at all, but he also wasn't very good at wording things so that others wouldn't be offended by something he implied. 

He looked down at his own vague reflection in the water, and then turned his nose to see Mo's, not too far away. "My Ma. She taught me this kind of stuff," He said with a shrug, intending to make it seem like his Mom wasn't terribly cool- nor did he want to talk about her. He continued to move along the bank of the stream, until there was a little nook where the waters were slow, and a pool that looked deep enough that he'd be able to swim in it if he tried. There was a bit of algae and grass underneath the water, which were also good signs, as he figured that those were the kinds of things that fish ate. They were herbivores, right? "Here's good." He said, and he waded in slowly. He gestured that she should wade in, as well. Tiny little minnows swam away from his feet. "See? Them're the babies. If there's babies here, there's gonna be adults too."

he echoes it back to her, and for a moment she thinks it must surely sound stupid; it's the first time she'd thought of shortening her name that way. but when he calls it cool, she grins, thrilled, and responds with an "ok!" she's saved herself from falling of her wave of coolness by asking if he really means it, but the enthusiastic agreement threatens to topple her anyways.

but fish; that's what there doing, and that's where she'll direct her focus. when he flags a certain part of the stream, she echoes his actions, wading in with the utmost care as her eyes follow the minnows. "they're tiny." she wonders aloud, wondering how many of the babies she'd have to eat to feel full. she makes an effort to pick out the other things that mark the stream as different from their first place. tiny plants, deep nooks; she didn't know all that much about the habits of fish, but was eager to learn, should they prove to be another food source. a shadow, larger and slow than the minnows, passes just out of reach. she gasps, but remains shock still, as she whispers to the boy, "is that an adult?" 

Bronco's logic wasn't too terribly flawed- and the little minnows that swam about his feet- moving away in a group whenever he moved, were a sign that fish did dwell in those waters- but as shallow as it was around his ankles and knees, the likelihood of catching an adult fish was very slim. Still, his bravado didn't fail, nor did his conviction, and he was pleased that Mo took an interest in his sightings. He became distracted by them, swimming this way and that like little silvery wishes and did not look far enough out to see a much larger, darker form in the water until Mo pointed it out. He flicked his ears forward in surprise and looked around. It took a few moments for him to even see the fish beneath the water's surface, as it blended in well with its environment. The boy was shocked; Mo was right. That was an actual fish. 

He nodded slowly and carefully, not wanting any grandiose movements to frighten the fish away. His heart began to beat rapidly, now that there was an actual chance they could catch a fish. He wanted to impress Mo, but now he began to doubt himself, given that he hadn't actually expected to see an adult fish at all. "Stay very still," He spoke slowly and quietly through closed teeth, partially murmuring as he didn't even want to move his lips. "Only pounce if it comes close enough." His voice was barely a hum, and his words even more muffled by his half-closed lips, but he hoped she would get the message, and even hoped that the fish would choose to swim in her direction- so that he wouldn't necessarily have to put his own pouncing abilities to the test.