Totoka River dearheart

the other had captured something! daringly, but shyly, deirdre inched forward... but she paused when the other caught both wind and next, sight of her, ears flattening atop her crown. the other spoke, kind and inviting both, and deirdre approached at a slow clip, her eyes warm and apologetic simultaneously. there was intrigue there, too--and when she was within the others earshot, where the wind could carry her words to the others ears instead of away, the young witch spoke: i did not mean to stare so, she admitted, i only wondered what it was you were after... her eyes drifted, now, to the others paws, as smoky as the rest of her. the other was unique in her appearance, but it suited the other well. there were rich reds and pure whites intermittently, and now and again she even saw inkblots upon her. her eyes were bluer than the ocean, but equally as deep. tomorrow, she hummed, you can do this? for deirdre was a witch, but she had never known of scrying or other tricks that seers had. she saw things in dreams, herself, but knew not how to define such a word. still, her tomorrows were never known--not for certain--the future came when it did, for her, and dreams were often forgotten.