Otatso Wetlands ii. pain and guilt

Because of the storm, pping +/- paging @Stockholm. ♥

The helicopters, while not particularly unfamiliar to the Gampr and his Groenendael, tended to be bothersome. The wild wolves hated them and Coelacanth herself wasn’t terribly fond of them — so, as bombproof as he was, Stockholm sheltered where Seelie sheltered, fled when Seelie fled, and generally didn’t question her judgment. Even now, as the sheepdog pressed eagerly through the snow, he trusted her — though he would have preferred being the one to break the trail so she didn’t die of frostbite or something. When she stopped to pant and gather herself, he nibbled at one feathered hip as though to urge her, “Let me help you,” and at first it seemed she would relent…

…but a flash of dark fur in the distance caught her eye.

The copse of trees they found themselves in provided a badly needed break in the weather. Seelie didn’t have the coat or the tolerance for such conditions — even more reason to return to the island, which remained untouched by the whirling winter storm. Now that they could move a little easier, she attempted to shake the snow from her fur — but it had clotted together in little balls and clumps. She looked more sheep than sheepdog as she began moving cautiously toward the figure in the distance, not actually sure it was a canid she faced, a prey animal, or just part of the scenery.