Broken Boulder Crucible of Broken Blouder

Through some brush he moved with promised intent to investigate what was going on. He was laser focused on his task, so much so that he never even saw the white goddess mere meters away. When she purred at him he clenched his eyes shut and flatted his ears, knowing without a doubt he’d just been caught dead to rights - by a huntress. A snort followed as his embarrassment turned to frustration. Now with someone here, if he found the following situation something he didn’t like then he wouldn’t be able to just turn and leave - pretend he saw nothing at all. Now, he’d have the guilt of knowing someone had seen him pass by. 

Not that he had ground to stand on. He didn’t even know where here was and for all intents and purposes he was brand new to the Teekon. This female would likely forget him in a day. Little did he know that this was the land of the timber wolf, not the red wolf. He literally stuck out like a sore thumb and would be easy to remember and difficult to forget. Typical, he was caught and now this she wolf had him. At least she sounded friendly…

He turned to face her, his backside spinning away and releasing a branch which snapped into his face and he stumbled to the ground. His mouth had been open in a light pant and some waxy leaves had been caught in his mouth. His tongue went to work, spitting them out with his ears flicking outward. How pathetic he must have looked. One leaf got caught deep and he had to cough to get it out all while he fought to address her. “…Hi…” he hacked, “wait… one…” another hack and the leaf lodged itself deeper. He cringed as he swallowed it and shook his head. 

“Ah…” he started as he now took her in for the first time. A pelt of misty white, perfect in its setting and nearly too bright to look at in the dawning sun. Her patched eyes brought blue sapphires that stole right through Redmoon’s heart and soul. She burned her image in his mind in an instant and combined with her sweet voice, he found himself at a complete and utter loss. “Hello there, sorry something’s but on going there over.” Again he cringed, first impressions were important and he was making a fool’s impression sure enough. He spat a sigh and attempted his words again, “Hello, but I’m sorry, I can’t talk. Something is going on over there. It isn’t far.” 

Oh how he wanted to stay and speak to her, the first friendly face he’d seen in days! But the cries of the pup were prevalent and as another cry yipped out he turned to face the sounds. Contrasting what he’d like to do between what he should do, he snorted again. “Sorry.” He turned and flitted away into the brush. 

Every loped step through the leaves brought him away from the shining pelt and he cursed himself every single step. But the cries kept pulling him onward. He couldn’t turn away now. He was in too deep.