Otter Creek song of the merrows

Beyond powers she could possibly fathom, it appeared as though a giant had taken a plow to the land in a wild tantrum. And as slight and quick-footed as she was, maneuvering through the once lucid meadow proved to be a challenge and tiresome. Dying of thirst, the creek was a welcome scene, although the small channels of water had also been devastated. Littlest turned her maw upward and observed the heights of Sawtooth Spire, theorizing instantaneously that they were the cause for the large boulders that had clattered and intermittent the otherwise smooth flow of water. Since this “attack” seemed so recent she stepped cautiously, her ears poised upwards towards the rocky roof above. 

Despite her precautious stature, the smallest of the Seelie Court found herself preoccupied with a myriad of other problems, the most prominent of which was not present. And that was the problem. The last she’d seen of her grandfather had been in these Wilds, nearly a year before. She’d searched for him high and low, that flame of hope dwindling day by day into nothing but an ember. When she’d given up her search and returned back to her homeland, she been sent out again. She couldn’t return, “not without his body” her grandmother had shrieked snapping at her heels in a grief stricken rage.
 
Even now the memory made Littlest nauseous as she lifted her lips from the cold creek.

They were traveling east, following the storm path left behind. It was both easier and harder to travel across that course. Easy, because the way was clear and simple to get back to after the pack continued on their outriding adventures. Harder because it was a constant reminder of the home they'd lost. All the same, Iqniq gathered his wits about him and pressed onward to explore. Surely there was a place in these lands untouched enough to serve as his pack's new home.

He was outriding, tracing the perimeter of their caravan when he caught sight of a small black wolf. Nearing the stream, he stalked her. With the wind pressing the water in the direction of his face, he was nose blind, but the petite form of the coywolf was nearly identical to that of his mischievous Gamma and he wouldn't put it past her to steal away.

A smirk curled upon the edges of his lips as he stalked her, moving quietly through the underbrush of the forest. Slight and svelte, Echelon was a nimble creature. He'd have to get close if he were to surprise her. Lingering... he waited until she seemed distracted before he pounced. Darting towards her, he nipped about her flank and ducked back to entice his wolf to play.

Despite her prudence for her surroundings, a wave of worries rolled to cloud her thoughts. Just enough so that when a stranger came for her, she fled instinctively and darted into the water like a frighten rabbit. Hackles curled upwards along her spine, her light eyes wide and expectant at the fiery torpedo that had rushed her. A habit to note her curiosity and wariness, her tongue swiped soundlessly at her nose as she paused to observe him.

A second later her feet slid back in the icy shallows that burbled against her form, her front legs bringing her to a guarded hunch. The quick exhilaration of his approach had been enough to draw a light pant from her lips, though her expression remained neutral, head slightly cocked to one side. The girl didn’t yet understand his bold motive, but it was in her nature to try to make good humor, lifting her tail into a low wag as a sign of peace.

The wolf fled quickly to the water and brought up her own defense. Closer now, he could tell that this was not the wolf he had anticipated, but a doppelganger of his own pack mate. The wag within his tail faltered as he lifted himself back up to all fours and slowly shifted his form from play to neutrality. "You're not..." he started, eying her a little more closely now. "Apologies. I thought you were someone else."

With a better look, he realized this female was quite a bit younger than wolf he'd mistaken her for. From behind, it was easy to confuse the two. Straight on, he was noticing a few differences. Her face was younger. The dusting on her nose was different. Though curious, there was far more innocence in her eyes than that of the spunky female he'd thought he'd finally gotten the upper hand on sneaking up on. It seemed as though he were wrong.

"You don't happen to have an older, sassier sister do you?" he asked. He realized he knew nothing of Echelon's past. It didn't much matter to him except now he was face to face with a wolf who, despite their age difference, could practically be her twin. It was a curious situation... and now, so was he.

Couldn’t be, Littlest thought to herself utterly puzzled as to what this stranger had been up to in the first place if she wasn’t the right wolf. She’d never been anyone but herself, at least as far as she could recall. Then again like all names in the Seelie Court hers had never meant to be permanent, perhaps there was another Littlest running around and she’d simply not known about it. As to whether or not they’d look similar would be most curious but not at all impossible. She visibly paused, her brows wrinkling in thought.
 
“Ah, maybe?” Uncertainly raising the pitch of her voice. “My family isn’t very close-knit. It’s possible.” The she-wolf explained with a roll of her shoulders. She barely remembered her own birth parents, something that didn’t at all bother her, because she’d been taught it wasn’t something to be bothered by. Besides her grandparents had loved her more than enough being the only child in her litter. If she did have a unknown sibling or two though it wouldn't be earth-shattering news, but at least it made for a good story.
 
As an afterthought just a beat later, “Why? Am I not sassy enough?” Her muzzle tugging at the edges in a slight frown, she’d hadn’t decided if that was a good or a bad thing. But it obviously wasn’t what he was looking for.

His ears lifted, swiveling forward as she tried to figure out whether or not she had any additional kin. Maybe? He supposed there were situations in which multiple litters didn't have the kindness of meeting each other. Growing old and moving out, perhaps. Skipped a couple years between litters. Something like that. Hell, outside of his own litter, he was unaware of any siblings he might have.

He spoke nothing on her comment that there may be another wolf out there who was related to her. Instead, he heard the lit of question in her voice as she asked whether or not she was sassy enough. He grinned, allowing his posture to shift into something a little looser and less rigid than before. Playful, perhaps; as if in anticipation for that spunky side of her to slip out and show itself.

"Nahh. The wolf I'm thinking of would have spun around, slapped me across the nose and said something snarky." Echelon was just like that. Little wolf. Big personality. "We could always try again. If you wanna turn around, I can always nip you in the ass and see of you could pass for her."

She snorted at his suggestion, amusement breaking through the confusion of her expression. “If that’s the case, I don’t think she’d let you get a second chance.” Littlest perhaps was not as quite as snarky as this character the stranger boasted about, but she was at least clever enough to preserve her own integrity. In other words, he could nip his own ass because he wasn't getting anywhere near hers. Not without any effort on his part. 

His lax posture brought on her own frisky nature, subdued enough by his aura to rouse him to play. Her tail picked up momentum behind her as the small wolf hopped back, a splash of water behind her dampening her dark pelt. She lifted from her bow briefly to dart a few feet away, slipping forward again with a silent taunt: catch me.

Iqniq laughed. The words she spoke were very true. He and Echelon had a relationship that bordered something near to sibling rivalry and for all he knew, it was all in the spirit of play. This current female appeared to be a little more reserved than spirited, but he supposed a lot of that was due in part that they were two strangers in the wild. No doubt, his first impression of himself had not gone over well, but they were recovering. Hopefully.

She hopped back into a bow, splashing into the waters as she hopped, feinted in, and pulled back once more. A wag lifted to his tail as he bowed, mirroring some of her movements as he echoed her footwork. A hop. A skip. A jump. His paws lifted as if to playfully bat at her nose as she leapt toward shim that last time. He darted forward too, closing the distance between them as he neared the stream at her back.

His teeth nipped lightly at her shoulder before he shifted his stance and drew his own paws into the shallows of the water. It was cooler there. The smooth stones at the bottom were slippery. His footing faltered and his hind quarters collapsed. Rolling with it, he none-too-gracefully forced himself to sit with a lolling tongue as he grinned back in her direction.

"Missy have a name?" he asked, lifting a hind paw to scratch an itch behind his ear before he was back on all fours. He splashed through the shallows of the water towards her and landed at her feet in a bow. Paw lifted to bat at her ankles before he hopped aside and stared back at her.

Here's a weird post to get you to 10!

Words. Colors. The feline's glazed gaze turned towards where the colors were coming from, his heavy form lifting onto his feet. Walking was an interesting experience; listless and graceful all at the same time. There was an imp with red skin and another with black. Imps of all things! A low growl rumbled through him. Too close, too close! The cat would not allow them to capture him!

Thanks for rescuing this thread!

Before she could answer a low growl rumbled through the forest. His ears lifted, now alert and attentive to whatever creature had managed to find them here. Stepping from the stream, he lifted his nose to the light breeze to see he might better scent the intruder. Feline. He sniffed more carefully, trying to isolate the specific breed of cat. Mountain lion. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Playtime was over. He shared a quick glance with the female before bounding off. Unless she chose to follow him it was every wolf for themselves out here and he was not so foolish as to confront a cougar on his own. Or at all. Without the strength of a pack, there was no way in hell to eliminate that cat. Better safe than sorry.

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