i reached back to scratch my arse and found a banana peel in my pocket

though Wylla carried on, her daughter was ignorant of the disdain slated for her. she gleamed with pride, letting out a belch whilst taking exclamations and worst regards in stride. her weight leaned into her mother's paw as she was swept of loose burrs and when she turned to lead her away (still lashing her tongue like a bullwhip), despite the high stakes of being lured to her own burial site, Tiercel galumphed after her. when there were pauses in the conversation, the young girl would stand in with her own childish imitations of indignant blathering.

she was escorted well past any areas she’d been before, through untrodden walkabouts and into new smells. the latter alone prolonged the duration of their excursion by probably fifteen minutes; every step Tiercel made towards progress was retroceded by fifteen more in an off-course direction because god forbid she miss out on the potential in a pile of leaves or something to taste (rabbit pellets, deer droppings, more berries, stinging nettles... not in that order). Wylla was always plucking her child from from something. whether it was a neighbor’s holt or the reticle of an angry skunk-bear, trips with kids were seldom painless. 

once they finally arrived and Tiercel saw the stranger converging on their path, she hung back at Wylla’s hocks, woefully unsure of what they were in for. she surmised maybe they’d continue on like ships passing in the night, but it would instead seem that this was their port of call. after halting, her mother stepped aside, baring her charge to fuckin’… dracula. casual but suddenly apt reminder that i’m your only child, mom! :D her ears performed a dramatic displacement roll of apprehension, though she never once looked to the badger-faced turncoat for reassurance. 

her eyes were two startled whorls on her face—she hadn’t moved a hair from where her feet were placed when her gaze intersected with his emergence. hi! their roadblock whisper-shouted, tail weed-whacking so loudly in the background one of her ears pitched towards him to glean what he’d said. a wave of bashfulness flushed her; she reflexively broke eye contact and then tentatively approached Raptor, who was basically vibrating with such excitement she could feel the judder of his engine under the pads of her feet. her gaze ping-ponged off the features of his face and she craned her neck to peer back at Wylla with an expression that annotated immense judgmental skepticism. this fish looks awfully similar to us.

though technically she was surprised given that she hadn’t yet developed the mental dragnet necessary to detect sarcasm, and had fully expected an awesome fish to be at their destination, he didn't quite pass muster. either way, the child didn’t understand the significance of their union; he did not bear the scent of packmates, but clearly he was important enough that Wylla was willing to make a special delivery.

she sidled up to him, flinching if he made sudden movements. due diligence entailed sniffing his lips (maybe the surprise was in his mouth? sometimes she had surprises in her mouth for mother!), his ears, his eyelashes. a huff filled her cheeks—up close and personal, her breath probably smelled like a winery—but the kindling of timidity was stubbed out once she had thoroughly searched him and in its place an ember of enthusiasm started to glow.

despite not knowing this wolf from Adam, she felt indelibly drawn to him and the impulse to burst with energy couldn't be contained by her little body—maybe his own gusto was contagious. whatever it was, she breathed vibrantly to life, bounding away to lace through her mother’s legs before returning to face Raptor head-on and tell him everything currently on her mind. ”ir nuh f’iss, oh ma, is nah me oh pe. is nuh iss,” she insisted, abundantly blessed with the gift of gab and oblivious that they might be lost in translation.

”un dam, eepin!” ...in conclusion.