Dahozhoni Meadow forgive me peter

are they on the same rock? i couldn't tell. they are now (: feel free to nudge me and i can edit!

Lost to the wind in her ears were the spattering of rambles that the newly proclaimed psychopath yelled back at her very rhetorical question. Who had the breath for all of that at a time like this? And laughing? An anger fueled by careless audacity bubbled in her chest. Whatever was so funny, to the stubborn nymphs point of view, he was pursuing her as doggedly the bear was to him. Confident in her plan and her swiftness, the panic seemed to release it's grip on her, but she was still not ignorant to the severity of the predicament. 

As her eyes grazed his she swore she saw him grinning -- but pushed it away as she called again upon the God of Thieves to launch herself at an upcoming pile. 

It was the same blood she coveted, that of which Gods bowed so sweetly to flattery. She knew every alter and prayer and weighted compliment would continue to grant her a seat at the table -- one which she knew she belonged at. And so Hermes did not betray her. 

While bulging, rippling muscles were not so favorable on her feminine frame, her still-athletic build still flashed it's gift. Toned shoulders launched her carefully upon the stones, immediately juxtaposing the clumsy male who scrambled soon below her, tumbling down. 5 steps up, jumping to perfectly jutted out lips to which she could carefully fit her snow-laced feet to. It narrowed at the top, and she knew fat, lumbering paws could not grasp them as hers could. She climbed once more, slowly so she could watch what was becoming of her newfound... stranger. 

CRASH! The stones rumbled beneath her feet, and she widened her stance to keep from toppling off. She'd lost sight of the man for a brief moment before he came clambering up behind her. He finally came still on a ledge beneath her, and she peered over the edge to see him locked onto the bear still circling at their feet. The creature, though likely concussed, seemed to not have any intention of leaving just yet. It shook it's head and began circling at the boulder, huffing and puffing... wait. 

The hyperventilating was most definitely coming from the other wolf, who began rambling as soon as she gazed down upon him. Thousands of dictionaries did not seem capable of spinning the jargon he was spewing, and Menthe was so tired to be laughed at. Curt, short breathes flared her nostrils, and as the adrenaline would die she would eventually fall to a pant. 

Are you done prattling? She snapped when he began to wind down his run-on sentence, I think we still have a problem here. She gestured down, somehow not believing he was aware of the situation. There was not quite the same playful edge to her usual ambrosia tone that he had.