Jade Fern Grove The loneliest people are the kindest

The fall was taking large strides towards the winter and Merlin began to consider joining a group again. He had fared well for a yearling loner in his second autumn, but even he had to reluctantly admit that enthusiasm for independence and freedom would fade completely, once permanent hunger settled in. This he had suffered from and did not look forward to experiencing again. 

But, while he was still undecided, he explored the lands he had arrived to, hunted and ate, when the opportunity presented itself. Sometimes he observed others of his kind from a safe place, where he could remain unseen. At other times he tracked and tried to guess, what the wolf in question would be like, based on the scent trail it left behind. So, all in all even with unpleasant perspectives looming over the horizon, he was happy and content to be, where he was.

After her nth hunting failure, Haunt sighed under her breath and began wandering aimlessly though the grove. Kaertok still hadn't come back, though that was just as well, since she hadn't caught any small game for him yet. She would succeed or die trying, though right at the moment, the youngster needed a respite. She found a patch of tepid sunlight and flopped to the ground, eyes and ears constantly moving as Haunt took a few moments to sit still otherwise.

Some time later, she heard footfalls off in the grove. Haunt tensed, head raising and ears pricking. She listened, hard, pinpointing the direction of the noise. She then began to slink through the underbrush, slowly and carefully, freezing when she glimpsed a flash of red fur in the distance. Thinking it might be a fox, Haunt sniffed at the air, though the light wind blew in the wrong direction. Deciding it didn't matter, so long as she could practice her tracking, the ghostly young she-wolf prowled forth.

As Merlin wandered further, his mind began to roam. He thought about his former comrades in the rogue pack and idly wondered, what would they be doing right now. He recalled the warm summer days and the glorious lake district they had walked through one week then. For a moment there a dim memory of colder and darker months resurfaced, causing him stop in his tracks, his brow furrowed, but with a quick shake of his head he refused to delve into it. Past was in the past. Glorious now belonged to him, so did the uncertain future and he had long decided to move on, create new memories, build better life than the drab existence he had before hopping in the vagabond train.

So lost in thoughts he was that he not only noticed the little white shadow that was tracking him, he also walked right past it without so much as turning an ear to acknowledge that the other one was around.

She inched along, eventually coming near enough to identify her prey as wolf by both sight and smell. This made her pause and fall back for a moment as he continued obliviously through the grove. She almost turned and slipped away in the opposite direction, having lost interest once she realized there was no small game to be had here. But even if she couldn't snatch something to present to Kaertok upon his return, she could always hone her skills.

Haunt proceeded slithering through the undergrowth, every inch the prowler her father called her. She closed the distance until there was about ten yards between the two of them and pondered whether to attempt an attack. Of course, she wouldn't kill and eat her own kind, yet as her yellow eyes fixed on his red rump, she couldn't help but feel her predatory instincts triggering. She gave in to them, slinking closer, closer, closer...

The prowler was really good at prowling, because Merlin was still completely unaware of the imminent danger upon his life. Instead he stopped to sit down and scratch his armpit, scaring a family of fleas away, then he leaned over to gnaw at the well established dynasty of little critters in the sacral area right above his tail, and then he stopped mid-scratch, one hind-paw still hanging up, while he listened at some noise in the distance. 

It proved to be false alarm. Merlin put his foot down, shook his coat thoroughly, resumed his walk and began to seek for the best point to relieve himself.

Her quarry stopped and Haunt stilled, yellow eyes peering at him through a screen of brush. She watched as he plopped onto his hindquarters and contorted in an effort to scratch his own armpit. Air puffed from her nostrils as she observed him then bend the other way and simultaneously nibble at his rump. When he froze, she tensed.

A moment later, he swept back onto his feet and resumed his casual stroll. Haunt rolled forward too, deciding now was the moment to strike. He'd sensed something, only to deem it a false alarm, leaving him at his most vulnerable. She sprang, noiseless save for the gentle rustle of foliage, her forelegs outstretched to grasp at his backside.

Sometimes you do not have to see your enemy to know that you are being stalked. Call it a sixth sense or a simple self-preservation instinct that finally kicked in, but just the moment the white ghost lurched after him, Merlin jolted forwards with his tail tucked tightly over his tender bits. Then he spun around to meet his attacker face to face and was utterly dismayed to see a wee-pup.

"What the damn hell, kid?" Merlin asked. "Didn't your mom teach you how tell ass apart from the face?"

Her quarry finally seemed to cotton on to her presence at the crucial moment, tucking tail and swinging his backside out of harm's way. Of course, Haunt had never actually intended to hurt him. She considered it target practice, preceded by her stealth drills. In any case, it was a swing and a miss, her paws thumping back onto the ground without so much as grazing him.

The stranger seemed a little put out by the attack, for which Haunt could hardly blame him. She snorted a breath, her yellow eyes dancing. Now that they were face to face, she took a moment to study him. He was only a little taller than her, with a lanky build and a striking coat. It was no wonder she'd mistaken him for a fox from a distance. His eyes were equally distinct, the teal contrasting prettily with his fiery coat.

"Didn't yours ever tell you to watch your back?" Haunt eventually said, her tone a little dry but lacking any real malice.

"Oh, she told me a great many things," Merlin said with an annoying I-know-something-you-don't grin, "some you may not even begin to comprehend." And he sounded quite convincing, because, if you do not remember your mom, you can come up with great many things (that's why non-existant moms are so handy - they are flexible and do not protest) and, who can prove that the facts you spill are not true? In his case, he could always appeal to his memory loss. Don't blame me, blame it on my head!

"Besides - I was watching my back, you just did not know it. Else you would have been successful in your quest, but..." he paused and pretended to ponder about something. "... but a little birdie whispered in my ear that you... how to put it... failed?"

Haunt sensed that he was taunting her, first about her intelligence and then about her skills. As an aspiring hunter, she had become immune to the sting of failure by now. And with parents like Kaertok and Arbiter, she hardly had a thin skin. But to have a random stranger pick on her was an unprecedented experience. Did he mean it? Her frame of reference was so limited, she wasn't entirely sure how to take it. Her tail lashed a few times, like an agitated cat's, as she deliberated.

Maybe if your ass and face didn't look exactly the same, she thought, though it seemed lame to retort now. Truthfully, she didn't desire to insult a stranger and there was no truth to those unspoken words. He was actually quite handsome. In any case, she wasn't great with words, much less verbal sparring. And though he didn't outsize her too greatly, Haunt didn't know if he was dangerous and didn't want to invite trouble.

Eventually, she simply said, "Okay." Unaware that her brevity might come across as cattily as a more verbose rejoinder, Haunt began to back away, prepared to leave him to it and likely return to the bypass.

Merlin would not have minded, if Haunt had thrown an insult back at him. He got kicks out of a good verbal brawl and the more creative insults were, the better! Another thing that you learn to enjoy, when you travel together with a bunch of loud and boisterous bunch of bachelors that know no limits and are in need of a constant supply of soap to keep their traps clean.

"That's not, how you argue, if someone is a jerk to you," he pointed out. "And if your brain is just as pretty as your maw, you have to come up with something more. Just "okay" won't do, princess," he told her.

His words stopped her, prompting Haunt to look over her shoulder with an arched brow. She slowly turned to face him again, though she was momentarily lost for words. Had he just called her a pretty princess? Haunt genuinely didn't know how to feel about that.

"I don't want to argue," was what she eventually said, which was boring but true. "I'll hunt you or fight you but I won't argue," she added, deadpan despite the rhyme making her laugh a little on the inside.

"Arguing is a form of fighting. With words," Merlin pointed out, now happy that there was an area in life that he could improve in this girl's life. If only she agreed that this was absolutely necessary. "Insulting is even better. 'cause if you love fighting, throw a spectacular insult and you will sure as hell get your ass beaten... or not, depending, how lucky you are!" he grinned.

"Besides - at hunting me you failed, fighting me you have not begun, but I offer you a fair chance of throwing some tasteful insults. As a sparring practice, what do you say?" he asked.

It seemed he wouldn't take "no" for an answer. Haunt arched an eyebrow as he spoke at length. Her tongue wasn't particularly clever and the connection between it and her brain was often delayed. Case in point: her slow comeback a moment ago. But he spoke for so long that Haunt actually managed to come up with what she considered a relatively spicy response.

"Not interested," she said quickly, pausing for effect before adding, "assface." But wait, there's more! "I really think you should see a medic about all the diarrhea coming out of your fugly face hole." It was rather unlike her but Haunt couldn't help but cackle.

"Butt-insults - bravo!" Merlin cheered the girl on, when she finally decided to take a step into the unknown and proven herself to be rather good. "May I add, that they never get old or rusty... but you can come back with something a little complex too - you do know that life is full of disappointments and I just added you to that list," he fell silent, giving the other time to get that. 

"Or..." he tilted his head to the side, pretended to appraise Haunt for a while and then said, very decidedly, "...nope, even from this angle you are still retarded!"

She kept right on chortling as he hurled some more insults her way. Maybe she wasn't much of one for words, yet bantering... Haunt found herself thrilling to it. There was something fun about swearing so crudely. Her parents would likely box her about the ears. She imagined even her litter mates would give her the side eye for her vulgarities. That's part of what made it so fun: it was so unlike her, the way she was raised. It was taboo.

That wasn't to say she was particularly adept, at least not yet. After firing off that zinger, Haunt kind of drew a blank on what to say next. It took entirely too long for her to cook up something clever. He would likely call her out on it. But there was nothing for it. It would take time to reduce her hang time, ironically.

"At least I'm not a total assclown," she retorted belatedly, seemingly unable to escape her rectal repertoire. "What kind of asshat goes around picking on kids?" Haunt demanded, the question 89% fluff and 11% genuine curiosity about this queer fellow.

"You really dig deep down there," Merlin remarked with a grin. "If you go all the way through, you may see the light shining right out of your mouth," he sighed, feeling happy for a job well-done. He had lured the girl to the dark-side and hadn't needed cookies to do so. Challenging her had been the key.

"Sweetheart - that's the whole purpose of my life. Ass-hat by definition means that it is someone, who takes care of all those pure innocent people, who have not yet learned a juicy swearword," he explained. "You have not lived yet, if you have not sworn properly!" he went on. "To be honest - you picked on me first," he pointed out.

She couldn't refute his response, not that she had any actual desire to do so. A small smirk settled on her lips as she contemplated the truth behind his words: "You have not lived yet, if you have not sworn properly!" Haunt really did feel a little more alive after letting rip.

Ignoring his jab as less than serious, Haunt demanded, "You got a name? Assbutt?" she tacked on after a tiny pause.

"You just christened me - what other name you want me to have?" Merlin arched an eyebrow and offered Haunt a devillish grin. "Though - if I may point out - your name should be Ass-Bite, because you lurk in dark corners and attack innocent passersby butts," he suggested.

"Name's Merlin, actually," he offered. "What's yours?"

She was rather a serious sort, especially for a child, but his witty retort earned a genuine laugh of surprise from Haunt. "That's good," she commended. "Assbutt and Assbite." She huffed another laugh after saying the ridiculous aliases together. "I'll allow it."

Her favored given name was on the tip of her tongue when he introduced himself, though Haunt had a flash of inspiration and replied, "You can call me Inukun. It means 'prowler.'" She paused, thinking of Kaertok with a small pang. "Speaking of which, I need to get back to it..." This had been fun but she was on a very important mission, after all.

"And that's, kids, how I met your mother," Merlin remarked smiling, because he had managed to get the serious girl to laugh. It was a merry sound, which - he wondered - may not be utilized often enough. 
"Inkun? Nah, I will call you Coon instead. My memory is notoriously bad, therefore this will stick to my mind better, if I imagine you as a stealthy little racoon trying to steal people's asses," he replied. "Get back to, whatever you need and I will be on my way too," he bid his goodbyes. "See ya, Coon Assbite!"

Her head cocked. Haunt didn't get the joke, yet she let it pass. Her mood was changing back to its standard default, the glitter of amusement fading even now from her yellow eyes. She didn't even bother correcting Merlin's pronunciation of her name, nor protest his nickname based on said mispronunciation. Haunt had many names, she was happy to accept another.

"See you," she said quietly, not entirely sure that was true. What were the odds she'd ever see Merlin again? Whether or not she ever did, Haunt would not soon forget this encounter. Coon Assbite, she repeated in her head as she slunk away, disappearing into the greenery with one last hushed snicker.