Duck Lake ♡ oh i'm the same, i'm the same, i'm trying to change.

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Goose instantaneously melted herself against the the russet the moment she leaned in. Oath was home, and that's all her trembling heart wanted right now — to be with her home, who was safe, who was warm, and who was hers. Her previous gut-wrenching sobs quieted down, softened into long, weepy whines as she buried her nose into Oath's chest, misty hues planted firmly on the ground where she planned to keep them for as long as she possibly could (which would have been forever, given the chance). She desperately wanted to reassure the russet — who was currently scanning their surroundings frantically for signs of incoming danger — that nothing was actually pursuing them in an attempt to calm her down, but Goose couldn't bring herself to move.

With her frantic mind beginning to gradually settle for the moment being, she could no longer ignore the heat of embarrassment which was already starting to prickle uncomfortably underneath her skin, feelings of regret, as always, making themselves at home. So there she remained, firmly planted, dreading the inevitable moment that she would be forced to explain herself. Already she was shrinking inwards at the shocking recollection of her entrance, which would also without a doubt be discussed; she had managed to scare the huntress half to death, gotten them both sticky with muddy lake water, and could have alerted any actual threats to their location to top it all off.

Oath soon peeled herself from the dove's needy grip — much to her chagrin — to smell the day's debacle off of her inspect her sorry form —which to no surprise, was sight for sore eyes indeed. Tear-matted fur tufted up in all directions alongside her cheeks and neck, exasperated further by the dove's earlier insistence of smushing her face into Oath in a pitiful attempt to hide. Her coat, not much better, stood windswept in all directions thanks to none other than her speed dash, all of which was now solidified wonderfully into place, all the way up her legs, stomach, and tail, at the fault of the lake mud she had barrelled through. Any other day this would have been the height of amusement between the two, but today, the tone was different. At this moment, she was so childlike as her youthfulness seeped glaringly through the cracks; oversized ears that had yet to be grown into, a body she was yet to come into, girlish features knit into a frown and gaze glued to the ground whilst she tried and failed to cease the trembling of her bottom lip.

Feeling positively humiliated with herself through and through, tears that had finally ceased only moments ago threatened to well over once again at Oath's insistence for her full attention; and, as predicted, promptly followed in the shape of heavy, rolling droplets once the dove had belatedly raised her eyes to peer at the the older female from below soaked eyelashes. The expression of just... sheer, genuine concern and worry, — that she didn't deserve to have to endure! — was the very heart-wrenching look that Goose had been dreading to see. Knowing she'd single handedly caused it, between her careless antics and these silly reactions, when Oath hadn't even heard what had happened yet, sent Goose into another fit of shoulder heaving, bubbling hysterics, which of course the girl tried to speak through.

"I-I'm— I'm so— I'm so s-s-sorry— I don't k-know, I didn-didn't mean i-i-t— I don't k-know what hap-p-pened—! She managed to eventually choke out between hiccups and countless stuttered breaths, although unable to even remotely control the rising, trilling pitch that was climbing higher and higher as she frantically arose to all fours. "T-t-thi— t-this is a-all my f-f-fault! W-what, wh-what if he t-t-tries to k-kill us O-Oath— h-h-he thi-thinks we're p-part of D-Diaspora b-b-but we're not, he's g-going to see us, this is a-all my f-fault—!" Another choked noise, a hiccup, now frantically pacing in spot as she began to spiral and the hysteria bubbled up again, whatever it was she was trying to say just pouring out of her— "I— I— couldn't— I couldn't just l-leave her, Oath, w-what if she— what if she had gotten h-hurt she's a m-mother I c-c-could— could smell it off h-her I—I— I had to— to at least try, to t-try and help— and I— I m-mean I thin— think she's o-okay s-s-so I don't know— b-but her n-name was A-Aure and—"

And it was perhaps by a dumb stroke of luck that the dove abruptly cut herself off with a yelp from her quickly escalating rampage, conveniently (or maybe not so much) interrupted by a sharp pain that propelled itself up into her hip bone as she tried to once again pivot in spot. Oh right, her injury.

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