Blackbeak Bluff who alone but he scapegraced and goated me?

Rrrgh, I h8 u 2 RL... Apologies for slowness; I’m expecting & hoping to get back on track soon, here >.<

Driftwood startled a bit, his ears flattening back at the suggestion that he might be a threat. Sure, he supposed he was sorta biggish compared to some wolves and all, but—was that some kind of joke?! He meekly peered a little closer at her even as his brain wrestled with the strange notion that he might look menacing to strange wolves that didn’t know him... Oh, wait. There seemed to be a bit of a twinkle lodged deep in her own genuinely intimidating eyes as she stared at him quite entirely unafraid—yes, it was supposed to be a joke. Driftwood grinned a bit sheepishly and wagged his tail a little, low, though he felt relieved and, okay, very slightly disappointed.

Not that he really wanted to frighten others—just that, well, it might have been slightly useful, in some circumstances at least. And these days he was feeling rather at loose ends and somewhat useless; it would have been something newly leverageable about himself to wield at least, maybe. Or to know that he could wield should the occasion so arise. ...But probably not to the extent he could have fit in at Rusalka anyway, from the sounds of things; they sounded rather intimidating overall, even if this girl Erzulie might have been an exceptionally overawing figure among them. Heck, just being around her alone in her supposedly “fragile” state was about as much as Drift could handle... He had to forcibly suppress a quick little shudder at the thought of a whole pack of Erzulies. ...Though, mind you, Moorhen had scared him too at first. But there had really only been one of her in Undersea, or anywhere, thankfully! He caught his lip on a tooth for a moment at the memory.

At least while she was alone, though, and now that she was speaking more kindly, Erzulie’s exuded confidence was actually somewhat soothing. She was indeed a brave one, and Driftwood couldn’t imagine her pups could ever really be in danger from any other wolf with a mother like her fiercely defending them. Perhaps it was his own puppyish ineptitude that inspired her to invite him along on her stroll; Drift didn’t know, but also didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. He agreed with an eager and more boldly raised wag of his tawny tail. Certainly! Not that he could likely have ever refused what came across as a commanding gesture to him as the pregnant lady indicated her left side. Driftwood’s lanky legs stepped obediently into position with alacrity. His eyes flickered involuntarily to the bulge in that selfsame side as he moved alongside her, however. As much as a way to distract himself as anything, he impulsively asked, Say, you don’t know, or happen to have seen about, a bitch named Moorhen, do you, I mean would you have? And then immediately he wondered how wise an idea that query really was. Too late, though; the words had slipped from his tongue so
easily!