Heron Lake Plateau a cold shower

At eight months old a puppy has the mentality of a preteen, according to the 'Souls puppy guide.

There was something weird going on and Ty wasn't sure he liked it. It was like something was in the air, or maybe the water supply. There was a bad smell in the air and a sense that something was changing; he certainly wasn't, and wanted nothing to do with the bizarre behavior he was noticing. He'd spent the past few weeks doing his own thing, keeping his nose clean and out of other people's business, which meant life was pretty chill where he was concerned. Except... The other day, he thought he saw something going down between some of the Redhawks (Phox and Towhee, and a silver-clad woman he didn't care enough about to meet), which left him confused.

It wasn't like Ty had wanted to spy on them. He'd taken an interest in sneaking around, doing what little brothers often did and watching the adults. Seeing the two adults goin' at it was confusing for him; he wasn't mature enough yet to understand what he had been seeing. Beyond that, he figured there was nothing inherently wrong with what he'd glimpsed because they'd had an audience — but still, he'd felt the twisting of his belly and a flush in his cheeks, and he made himself turn away -- then leave, to sort out those images in private.

He was puttering around along a ridge spanning the north of the plateau, sprawling over the edge so that his forelimbs could reaaaaaaaach down at nothingness; his toe-beans spread out in the manner of a cat trying to flex their claws, and his chin and chest rested on an irregular segment of exposed stone. It was dangerous (probably) but he was having fun batting at the air, watching the birds flitting around in the grass beneath the ridge.

It was delicious.

Cinder's jaws had been wrapped tightly around the body of a mouse, and he'd stopped under the shade of a half-bare tree to shelter him from the light spray of snow and eat his catch. The young blackthorn had been exploring and adventuring all day so far, and now he was starving, so he chomped down the meal with extraordinary speed and then burped so loud a small flock of birds had scattered from the branches above.

Then came the hiccups.

They jolted his chest every time he sucked in, and though at first they were funny, he grew weary of them fast. The boy had picked himself up from the ground and attempted to jog away, as though the curse would get bored and stop chasing him - they were so annoying. Eventually, however, his attention was swayed by the scent of his darker sibling on the wind, and a big grin spread out across his features as he set upon the task of tracking him: when he approached at last, his chin inclined to the side and Rabbit squinted at the figure. 

"H-uegh-hey!" he chirped, attempting to gain his brother's attention despite the rude interruption of another hiccup. "What'cha up to, Ty?"

The arrival of his sibling wasn't something he noticed. Tywyll was distracted by the tiny moving shapes the birds made; if there were enough, they formed a murmuration and it was fun to try to count them. They turned and swept one way, then turned deftly another, and he'd lose count every time. It wasn't until Cinder was right behind him and calling out that he noticed his sibling — and jolted back from the ledge, startled. At least he didn't fall forwards and go over the plateau's edge! That would've sucked.

However, in drawing back from the ledge he inadvertently caught his limbs on the shale poking through the earth. He wouldn't notice the welts until later, but a few of the scrapes would eventually turn red with thin lines of blood. For now he was sitting upright and craning his neck to see Cin -- and then turning and lunging for him, annoyed that his peace was disturbed. While it started out as a bolt of frustrated energy, just as his dark body collided with Cinder's silver one he cooled off. His paws chest-punched his brother as he tried to roll him over, starting a playfight (even though they were both practically adult-sized).

The breath was knocked out of him almost immediately, and the blackthorn's head bumped roughly against the uneven ground, letting out a half-shriek - when the initial shock of the surprise had worn off, a playful growl ripped from his throat, hiccuping before wriggling and writhing in his darker sibling's grip in an attempt to flee.

HE'D BEEN GOT.

Rabbit kicked his little legs upward, and with any hope he'd be able to startle Tywyll enough with a light whack to push him off, but if he failed, he'd settle with nipping and floundering beneath the larger boy.