Ever since the death of her brother, Twix has long since been gone from Sleeping Dragon and her friend @Hvitserk. They did not remain close very long but she appreciates the short, but sweet, relationship she had with the wolf. Since then, she tries to stay on her own. She scavenges here and there, occasionally running into another of her king but she does not often linger for long. Half of her died those many months ago and there’s still a dull ache in her chest she doesn’t exactly know how to fix.Her opinion of wolves, however, is still to be weary. She’s a bit older now and the childlike games she played with Mars had died when he did. They remain a memory every so often when she needs cheering up (or a reality check).
When the wolves of Morningside moved in to the plateau, worry struck in the few raccoons she’d been hanging out with and all of them left when they began to frequent too close to their dens. Something keeps Twix rooted in place, though, but she can’t help but miss the comradery. She will move on, eventually, because it does not seem like they will be leaving any time soon and she only wanders about at night if she can help it. Which is an easy thing to do.
It is close to dusk when she approaches the lake, carefully and slowly. The territory is big enough to house more than one type of animal—noted by deer and turkey and squirrels—and she knows that raccoons don’t taste that great but she continues with caution. It is empty and nothing smells afoot, so she slinks into the bank of the pond to wait for something to swim close enough.
Some significant time later, her chance has been granted. She quickly dives into the water and scrambles, catching a small fish between grubby little hands and flails back out of the water as quickly as possible. Twix manages to lose her grip but flings it back, scrambling around to see it flopping not too far off. Relief takes her in and she moves quickly, struggling to get a good grip on the tiny thing before she finally gives it the death squeeze for dinner time.
When the wolves of Morningside moved in to the plateau, worry struck in the few raccoons she’d been hanging out with and all of them left when they began to frequent too close to their dens. Something keeps Twix rooted in place, though, but she can’t help but miss the comradery. She will move on, eventually, because it does not seem like they will be leaving any time soon and she only wanders about at night if she can help it. Which is an easy thing to do.
It is close to dusk when she approaches the lake, carefully and slowly. The territory is big enough to house more than one type of animal—noted by deer and turkey and squirrels—and she knows that raccoons don’t taste that great but she continues with caution. It is empty and nothing smells afoot, so she slinks into the bank of the pond to wait for something to swim close enough.
Some significant time later, her chance has been granted. She quickly dives into the water and scrambles, catching a small fish between grubby little hands and flails back out of the water as quickly as possible. Twix manages to lose her grip but flings it back, scrambling around to see it flopping not too far off. Relief takes her in and she moves quickly, struggling to get a good grip on the tiny thing before she finally gives it the death squeeze for dinner time.
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Messages In This Thread
river monsters - by Twix - October 10, 2017, 06:06 PM
RE: river monsters - by Grayday Sr. - October 10, 2017, 06:59 PM