The Heartwood The Waves Underneath Will Soon Be My Home

Thin limbs of brush and saplings whipped at his body in a kind of sting that spurred him on. The flash of peppered chestnut fur darted in a panic through any kind of cover, in a desperate attempt to throw off the doom at it's heels. Yellow eyes never lost the supple rabbit. Instinct and years of meals of rabbits aided the seasoned hunter in predicting the creature's maneuverability and weakness. Twigs and brambles snapped off in his thick fur, and chunks of ice flew up to sting his eyes as Dagger issued a final, deft snap of his jaws around the prey as it screamed it's last. Chomping harder, silence filled the Heartwood again, and all he could hear was the sound of running water close by, and his racing heart. Almost a sound one in the same.

He found almost no time to enjoy his meal on the spot, as his senses lost their tunnel vision and broadened to include a wolfish scent. He hadn't had much luck with keeping his solitude lately. It was to be expected as Spring touched the lands and beckoned. More bodies of all species would begin to emerge, and he would have to travel with more caution if he liked to remain free of any drama. Still, curiosity or loneliness urged the Oathbone male to investigate the other, before he was discovered.

Dinner dangling from his dirty jaws, it swayed and slapped at his shaggy neck as he cleared a few fallen trees and larger stones on his way toward the unmoving scent. The dangling body and the churning of his empty stomach raised a flag that reminded the hunter he should probably stash his dinner safely until the investigation was over. Absentmindedly, he dug a shallow pit and dropped the red brown meat into the cache, using large hind legs to kick dirt and ice and mushy snow remnants back over the semi hardened spot, marking his scent over his kill and shaking himself head to tail as he finished and moved on.

She was an odd looking young thing, and not hard to spot out in the open. Sunbathing? Maybe an optimist, as the day hadn't offered much sun, but what was there was indeed warming things up enough, and apparently appreciated by the pup who lounged in it. A notion that appealed to him more as he watched her, entranced by the moving water she lay so carelessly close to. She watched with lover's eyes. He knew that look. What a peculiar youth. And an equally odd skin she laid atop. In all his hunting excursions and challenges of himself, Dagger had never seen such an amazing pelt. On the child, or the ground beneath her. He had to ask.

Why not jump in? Yellow eyes blinked. His large paws shifted in the odd mush around him, and he swiped a fat tongue across a long peppered maw, trying to rid himself of the leftover blood spatter he'd been too hurried to wash off. Secretly, he wanted that speckled pelt. Whatever it was. His eyes may have betrayed his fleeting wishes, as they flickered from pelt, to youth, to water.