Silver Creek hand-me-down dreams

The rain had been coming for days, and Tehama half-suspected she had entered a land where the sun never showed its face.  Only the flourishing plant life in the area belied the possibility.  The tawny female had spent hours the day prior traversing a grove of towering redwoods, the imposing canopy of which could not be supported without a magnanimous quantity of sunshine.  As she wandered among the cathedral of vast trees, the rain fell in giant drops accumulated in the needles high above, and Te had a peculiar feeling, as if she had been shrunken down to miniature from her already small stature.  The discomfiture was enough that she chose to keep walking, finally settling down for sleep at the forest's edge in a small soggy meadow.  There the raindrops fell at their normal size, and the great redwoods were at her back, where she needn't dwell on the eerie hush beneath their boughs and how they dwarfed her so thoroughly.

The lithe lady resolved not to be annoyed that she was utterly sodden when she awoke, practically a part of the swampy meadow herself now.  A patch of sky near the horizon looked a bit lighter than the rest, if she squinted, and so she judged it to be morning, but even her attempt at optimism wasn't enough to convince herself that the sun might actually ward off the rain today.  Te stretched, and was overcome with a shiver.  The corresponding whole-body shake sent water droplets flying, but they were quickly replaced with the steady tattoo of rainfall.  It was just no use trying to get any drier or any warmer.  The she-wolf plucked several small twigs and grasses from her fur, but there were so many tangles that she soon gave up and got to her paws.  Great Mother, but she missed the comfort of their family dens at Mount Mirror!  

A pang twisted in her chest at the thought, though, for that was a place that existed only in her memory now.  This is me setting off on own my life now, she reminded herself.  No going back, only forward.  Some place in this world would speak to her again, as Mount Mirror had been made known to her ancestors.  Just... maybe not a place so... wet as this one.  Tehama barked a soft laugh to herself, and set out across the open meadow towards a woodland—one of quite average proportions, thank goodness. Slipping into the glade betwixt a pair of maple trees, Te thought she glimpsed the serpentine curve of a swollen creek gleaming in the half-light.  She turned towards it.

Though never very far from his effervescent companion, Piety was almost always up earlier—and roaming farther—than she liked him to. He dared not stifle his search for the land befitting a defendable claim, and no amount of her winging would deter him from the task. It did not help that the constant rain made them both dour, which in turn made him all the more eager to cover ground without her, in a bid for peace.
 
Yet, as well as being more easily annoyed these days, he was also hyper-conscious of making the wolfdog feel unwanted. He knew that his perpetual absconding into the wilderness did not support any notion of fealty, and sought to remedy that by consistently, apologetically, returning from his absences with fresh, never-the-same-thing-twice meals. He was not always successful, but it was a goal he kept in mind that helped him focus and drove him forward. A dedication he committed to without need.
 
Montserrat padded now along the shore of an overrun creek, his coat almost flat across his broad-shouldered frame as the rain smoothed it down. He would glance now and then into the watery depths, appearing to keep an eye out for signs of fish there, but the water was in a cloudy rush, and anyone but a lifelong fisher would hesitate before attempting to catch anything in those waters. Not a skilled swimmer by any means, he was only considering this avenue of a hunt; having not yet come across a strip of the run that was thin enough for him to wade in.
 
As the creek started to travel out of the lowlands, the water started to grow calmer. The gargoyle paused before approaching, noticing a lupine-shape in the distance, that turned out to be another wolf, surveying the creek. It was a smaller creature than him, but he was no less wary of it. Piety turned to stone in the middle-distance, where he was, and looked on to see what the creature would get up to.

Tehama's slate-hued ears swivelled and caught the rushing noise of the creek as she slowly descended the slope leading down to the waterway.  Perhaps it was a gentle and relaxing babble, when the unending rain had not raised the water level far past its banks, but the current was now swift and the creek was loud.  Te squinted to search for the shape of fish beneath the surface, but quickly decided that only a foolish fish would do anything but hide away in the refuge of nooks and crannies in the creekbank with such a brisk and cold flow of water.  The petite female sighed, feeling her stomach twist in hunger.  Yesterday's breakfast of several chipmunks seemed now both inadequate and remote.

Te fought the urge to shake once more as heavy water droplets cascaded down from the canopy of leaves.  Instead she slid her body low to the ground, crouching in wait.  The hour was still early, and perhaps larger game might emerge from the wood to drink.  Tehama was a fair hunter, and a young cervidae would be a fortuitous catch that could feed her for more than just the one meal.  The lady surveyed her surroundings patiently, gazing through the silver haze of rain; it startled her to notice the dark figure watching her from a distance.  Tehama supressed a visible motion of surprise and instead chose simply to look back at the stranger.  A flare of dark nostrils, a long drawn-in breath, revealed no new information to the female, any scent that wasn't doused by the rain and damp was being carried away on a faint and contrary bit of wind.

She might have taken him for a bear at first glance, so vast was his size, and there was nothing particularly inviting nor welcoming about his countenance.  At this middling distance, it was impossible to say whether he was truly looking at her or simply past her.  It was still credible that her dark melange of tawny fur granted concealment among the underbrush and fallen detritus of the forest.  Tehama steeled herself to immobility, not unlike a doe ensnared in the gaze of the hunter.  If he didn't already know she was here, Te wasn't naive enough to go betraying her petite self to a much larger and more imposing wolf whose motivations were as yet unknown.  A woman alone could be prey enough for some, Tehama thought.

A short-lived scene transpired before Piety, and the acts of a complete stranger’s life began to unfold beneath his enraptured gaze.

She was normal, for all intents and purposes. Nothing special at this distance; No one remarkable, in his stringent opinion. Yet, he could not look away. Her existence, while still unaware of his looming presence, was fascinating to him. Enveloping. He felt the intoxication of false omnipotence, and a sudden, heart-pounding bloodrush that was not entirely unfamiliar to him. Later, he might recall that the stimulating surge had come from the same vein as stalking prey, but he could spare no thought for it at this moment. 

Piety remained as a statue when the silver hunter scanned her horizons, before finally seeming to notice him there. The game was over. He felt his pulse begin to fade. If she was surprised by the sight of him, the mountain wolf could not tell, coloring him impressed. 

She seemed uncertain about whether she had been seen first or not, and intelligently chose not to give away her already disclosed location. Out of respect for the lone she-wolf, unwilling to hold her in suspense, he wagged his tail slowly against his hocks to let her know that they had indeed locked eyes, and that he was not a threat. 

He knew it would be harder to convince her of the latter, but he kept to his position, allowing her the choice to dictate their next step in this delicate dance.

I actually do want to wrap this up due to the age of the thread and not having referenced it in any subsequent threads.  Nothing personal, I'd totally be open to a future thread with you in future! <3

Tehama was not a flighty creature, given to abrupt comings and goings, nor typically was she easily startled.  What she was, however, was sensible and intuitive.  She had learned enough over the years, often through trial and error, to know now when to listen to her gut.  Something in this present moment was fundamentally unnerving to her, or perhaps it was more accurate to state that there were multiple such somethings.  The creek was rushing too fast.  The rain made the moss rocks lining its banks treacherously slippery.  The same precipitation was a distraction, faintly impairing the she-wolf's vision, and heavily dampening scent and sound.  All of these were hazards, and the presence of a large stranger eyeing her was the greatest hazard still.  

He made no overt move towards her.  And yet the sight of him, captured in her peripheral vision, reminded her of something--some specific memory.  She couldn't quite place it--not yet.  Then his tail wagged slowly.  To the woman, it seemed eerie.  When she realized what the body language reminded her of, the lady nearly bit her tongue to keep from making a sound of recognition.  As a yearling she had often helped teach her younger siblings the basics of hunting, and they had just such a look when they crept upon some unsuspecting rodent or grasshopper or frog.  The sharp gaze, alert posture, and tail swaying slightly, caught between play and the thrill of the hunt.

Tehama's stomach somersaulted violently.  She was too vulnerable.  There was a chance the other wolf meant nothing untoward at all.  But the lady traveler decided then and there that she would not stay and find out.  Like the deer ensnared in the gaze of the hunting wolf, Te remained momentarily frozen.

After a moment drawn longer by her heightened anxiety, Te backed up slowly from the rushing water.  She kept the large beast locked in her icewater gaze for fear that if she did not, he would rush forward at her.  Silently thanking her petite form for the speed it provided, the young woman chose a trail away from the creek that was overgrown with thick brush and ferns.  It ought to slow him down if he pursued.

The silver-kissed woman bolted, more doe than wolf.

Not a problem!

When she did not visibly react to his (only slightly) misconstrued invitation, the Montserrat knew the silver doe-wolf would flee. He would have been surprised, after making his assumption, if she didn’t. The sway of his tail slowed until it flagged limply behind him, and he watched as the stranger proceeded to back away, keeping his eyes firmly on his position. Rather than turn and act disinterested, or present her with a real reason to fear him, Piety simply returned to pretending he was a gargoyle statue, until she had turned to dart out of sight.

Giving his sodden, roughhewn coat a thorough, splattering shake, the mountain wolf put his nose back to the ground and resumed his hunt for something more edible than brief company.