Sleepy Fox Hollow besteigung

aw but maybe @anselm? <3

when the small storm had passed, mahler found a level and rich field. it was not so large, but its spread was dark earth with only a few medium-sized rocks to break up the lines. he began to excavate the first of these, pushing it to the edge of the clearing.
repeated several times, it eventually granted the gargoyle a fair planting ground. he inhaled the promising aroma and glanced around for one of his children.

the mud sucked at her pawpads, and it became a game to make loud shlap-shalp sounds, pausing often to pat the ground.

it led her to a clearing, where her game was abruptly stopped when one paw tripped over a stone, the other attempted to steady the body thus slipping on another, and the haywire hindlegs were of no help when the whole of the wolf fell forward and landed graceless with a tongue sticking out that was beforehand bit down on.

rolling forward in the mud, hel regained enough limb control to curl herself into a dead spider position upon losing traction, skin-tight self quivering as teeth clenched to keep the pain to the body, else it be claimed by the Enemy.

with the three little ones far more mobile, mahler had taken to patrolling along more and more. sometimes if he did not go far, he took one or more of them along. anselm was with him today, padding at his father's flank. the boy was growing lanky and his large paws evinced a larger size to possibly come.
nostrils flared. the man growled a single note as he bristled. there was an intruder in the hollow. he warned anselm back up along the small rise, and there the pup stood, silhouetted.
mahler turned back to the trespasser. they were young, hardly more than a mite of flesh on any inch of their body. malnourished and contorted now in pain. a woman. the gargoyle's aggression abated. "frau," he said gravely, "do you know vhere you are? can you speak?"

pain pain pulsed trough her being, but not for a moment did she let it slip out her teeth, denying the white one that which it most craved.

first she was shuddering, motions grew into spasming, and then the jester threw her head back, laughing to tears.

in her blurred vision the dark shape was a cousin, and so, still twitching with mirth, the womam on her back stretched a paw towards them.

"har du kommet for å lede meg hjem, fetter? og det var bare gøy~"

not a speaker of common, then. her tongue was nordic. mahler tried again. "weißt du wo du bist?" if she still did not comprehend, he might try a different tactic.
for now he did not approach. whether she was in shock or merely a madwoman remained to be seen, but he would take no risk of the first.

as tears slipped from eyes, she saw that this stranger was no true svartravn, his coat unacceptably tainted by the Other. a mudman, then.

hel rolled onto her stomach, head giving an inquisitive tilt at his words not quite understood. was that it, then? the mudmen spoke a language that is merely shadow to the true speech? 

like so many things, their mixed blood twisted even their tongues into caterpillars.

"jeg er der jeg er. hvorfor, er dette landet forbudt?" the woman asked with a smile.

"ja, das ist mein land," mahler told her in a stern voice. some of their word-sounds were similar: he used context to try and address her again. the laughter was beginning to grate. "mein." he slapped his chest with a large forepaw.
perhaps with emphasis she might comprehend.

"oooh." the madwoman voiced, as if enlightened, but her face held a sleazy expression.

"i så fall, hvilken klan berømte hjem er dette?" her neck twisted, twisted, twisted, until she looked at the mudman from a birdlike angle.

her eyes drifted to the shape on the rise. the neck raised the head to look past the mudman's shoulder.

"hei, lille barn!" shouted with a light laugh.

she reminded him of a skinny, sodden raven. did he not command her fear? was she truly only an addle-woman who had fallen into his hollow to plague him? the man thought uncharitably.
"wieder nach hause gehen," he ordered anselm in a quiet rumble.
when his son had swiftly gone away, mahler lunged for the crone, clacking his teeth an inch from her muzzle. "get out." if she would not show herself in even a scramble for the borders, he would bring them down again.
wylla would be quite furious. his amethyst eyes were stonelike.

she watched the offspring scamper away, giving them a smile. how sad the lives of mudchildren must be.

but the parent's teeth snapped near her own ragged muzzle, and the jester twirled back, landing in a crouch with upright tail, wide bright red eyes upon the mudman. smile playing at her lips.

the svartravn woman giggled. she began to back away as her laughter grew.

"bivere dhe ravner, m'uh'dman." she slunk back, watching his marked face, elated to see more of his fishbone teeth. "dahrk vings bring dahrk nevs."

beware the raven, he translated. mudman. that one rankled but did not anger. mahler advanced as she retreated.
dark news?
"the darkest news vill come vhen i lop off your head for my borders," he said crisply, not truly meaning it but enjoying the roughened quality of the words. mahler growled. "go. now. and do not come back."

first for a moment she was still.

then the madwoman leapt up, twirled, and, overcome with the hilarity of it all, cackled as she ran back into the trees.

<3

mahler watched her go.
he snorted. he shook out his nape and scratched deep furrows that planted the scent of paleo into the earth. a splash of musky urine next, and he turned away, leaving behind the destroyed trail of the madwoman.