Kintla Flatlands tiptoe through the window

For @Fang. Takes place along Whitefish River, between Sheepeater Cliff and Firestone Hotsprings.

It was strange, being a part of the plateau. Fox found herself outside the territory more than in it. At least, it felt that way. Perhaps the fact that she had been the only Alpha at Swiftcurrent Creek was the reason she had always felt chained to it. Here, at the plateau, she had not only Peregrine at her side, but there was also Blue Willow, and now Dante. Having the four of them there all the time seemed extreme, and Fox never felt guilty about leaving for a day or more. She was certain that they would handle things just fine without her. Maybe some of that possessiveness was wearing off.

Part of her job as a warden and warrior was to always be on the lookout for impending threats, even if they weren't in the immediate vicinity of Blacktail Deer Plateau. She supposed that was part of the reason she had been so "out and about" lately. That, and she'd been making sure that they would have plenty of alternative food sources, should they need them. Having not spent a winter on the plateau herself, she wasn't sure what the prey would be like. And there was always the chance that their food would scatter or become too scarce during the cold months ahead.

Settling down by the river, Fox stretched and shook her coat in the afternoon sun. It was her intention to be back before the sun fell from the sky, and she would head back after a short rest.

Up the mountain, down the mountain. It was a recurring exercise and the hybrid seemed to have become incredibly adapt at finding ways between the highlands and the flatlands below. Even with the lingering injury to his leg, though it was mostly a dull ache now, he made good time getting himself around. Of course this trip would (hopefully) be his last anywhere near the spire and it's inhabitants. He was feeling rather relieved in the latest turn of events, things would seem to be turning to his advantage, with his newfound feelings of satisfaction and relief, he decided to pay the hotsprings a visit, with the idea of spending time relaxing amongst the steaming pools of water to help rid himself of any lingering stink the spire, and his last encounter with its wolves, left embedded his coat.

As he meandered his way down the rolling slope toward the river that kept him from the springs he recalled the last visit to them and the playful, yet terrifying, experience he had with one particular female there, having since made up with the harlequin he felt safe returning. He continued trotting as best he could still favouring his sore leg despite its healing progress.

The half-breed, finally reaching the river, probably should have taken more notice of the familiar scent that wafted about from the nearby pack. Of course being in a rather good mood, the idea that the familiar smell was not just from the pack wolves traipsing about the flatlands, instead being from one resting nearby was completely alien to him. As such the hybrid would more than likely walk straight past the resting wolf without noticing, and take a few steps into the river to take a quick drink before crossing the water-body and into the hot springs. That was the plan.

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Her rest was cut short by the distinct smell of her arch-nemesis: Ferdie von Pelt. It wasn't strong enough to actually be Ferdie, but it was definitely strong enough that whoever it was reeked of his pack. Fox scrunched up her nose, snorted, and stood from where she had been lying on the ground. Her grey eyes eagerly sought the form of whoever was giving off the stench, and it didn't take her long to spot a creamy-white male, dappled with some brown here and there. Nobody she knew, thank goodness.

The male stopped by the river to take a drink, and Fox simply couldn't help herself in taunting him. "Another of Ferdie's recruits, I see," she said, squinting at him, "You must be some kind of stupid to go following such an unpredictable beast." The young leader was ready to dart away at any moment if she needed to, but taunting and teasing strangers was one of her favorite pastimes, and she simply couldn't pass up an opportunity like this one.

The water was cool and refreshing, the nearby sound of movement was unnoticed by the hybrid, his own mood good enough to shut out most of the world. That was until a voice carried over. Suddenly realising he wasn't alone shocked the halfbreed enough to make him choke momentarily on his drink. Before the condescending accusation was finished he managed to fix wheat coloured eyes on the words author.

His head tilted ever so slightly, it was a tiny thing, smaller than the hybrid, coated in red and ruddy browns. His own snort was offered in rebuttal to the words. This would be one of the very reasons he wished to get to the springs and rid himself of this stink Rude. I'm a Former recruit The words snapped out of his mouth, taking a few steps away from the waters edge. Besides, 'follow' a strong word. It didn't take me long to work out that ..guy, couldn't lead a child, let alone a pack. He spoke flatly, he had no love for the spire or it's supposed leader, and he wasn't afraid to hide that fact from anyone. However it did surprise him a little to find another creature away from the pack that seemed to harbour disdain for his former alpha. Although it probably shouldn't have.


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Fox snorted at his remarks. She decided that she liked this one... tentatively. “You still stink of him,” she said, sniffing the air to make her point. “If you really did abandon him, does that make you a loner?” she asked. If he disliked Ferdie, perhaps he could become her recruit. Nothing would make her more happy than to steal away von Pelt's members. Especially those whom she could shoot the shit about what a terrible wolf he was.

If he really was no longer Ferdie's, Fox would gladly watch him wash of the scent. Then again, those things stuck even with a wash, depending on the stench. She wondered what Ferdie had done to this particular wolf to make him hate him. She didn't ask... not yet, anyway.

Eyes narrowed when the small female when she reminded him of the stench that bathed his coat. it's like tree sap, you try and you try, and you just can't get it out. I spent a day rolling in flowers just to have some random tell me how much I still stink. It's really quite frustrating. Shaking his head, he let out a small sigh. The hybrid was a vain creature, stinking like someone he held in low regard was almost completely unacceptable.

He lowered himself to a sit, he'd been standing and walking long enough, that and the small creature wasn't being terribly threatening. A loner? I guess. Not that I expect to be for long The self confidence was strong in this one. So what's your story, to call out strangers on following Ferdie? He looked on other genuine interest, gossip was always fun.


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Fox grinned, enjoying his mutterings about tree sap and the stink of Ferdie. But it was the second comment that really piqued her interest. "Not for long" meant he had a goal to work toward. She was curious, there was no denying that, but Fox did not inquire further about that particular topic. Instead, Fox tilted her head at his final question, weighing it for a moment and recalling her first encounter with Peregrine. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Yeah,” she replied casually, “I’m on dickwit duty.” Fox said this with the silliest of grins, making sure that Fang understood she was jesting. Of course, Fox had been known to take jesting to a whole new level. She and Peregrine had an on going joke about pissing on each other's borders. Funny to think that they were pissing on their collective borders now. What a strange world it was.

Dickwit duty, lol, trade-name. Do it --
also I've wanted to use the word Yonder forever. don't judge me. >:l

A brow shot up, or as much as a brow could be said to shoot up on a wolf. Dickwit duty? The grin that was shown on her face was enough to let him know she wasn't terribly sincere. A single 'heh' escaped at the notion. Wrong side of the mountain for that charge aren't you? he gave the slightest gesture toward the spire, and the lands beyond. Despite his own run in with one particular pack-mate of Fox's, he still felt dickwit duty was suited for over yonder.

Of course, had he known this particular individual was a former leader of those on the other side of the mountain, and the apparent bane of Ferdie's existence, he'd probably have held his tongue. He shifted his weight, the damp earth below causing the hybrids seated bum to cool enough that fidgeting was necessary. The moment of awkward movement made him speak again. Before you label me on your dickwit duty, I'm Fang, and you are? He did his best to sit still, despite the uncomfortable cool. Worried he might look like he had worms or something.


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Fox shrugged at his first question, not bothering to answer it in any meaningful way. There were dickwits all around, apparently. She wondered if he was really one of them... but somehow the fact that he disliked Ferdie gave them a shared connection. Had to keep all those dickwits contained, and if he was one of them, Fox would be the first to chase him further away from the plateau than he currently was. She wanted nothing to do with the dickwit type.

“Fox Redleaf-DiSarinno,” she replied, ego thick in her voice, “Alpha of Blacktail Deer Plateau.” With all her fancy-schmancy titles out in the open, she briefly wondered what he would think of it. There was a time when she would have used it to her advantage, as an attraction method, but those days were gone now that she was bonded to Peregrine.

The tiniest frown tugged at his lips when she passed over his first question with a shrug followed by the introduction. There was a momentary flash of recognition at her name but it was gone before he could put the pieces together. He'd only heard the name 'Fox' once, and without an apt description to go off he wasn't about to call the self proclaimed alpha out on being the same obnoxious prat that plagued the spire shortly before his arrival. His wheat eyes looked her up and down as he thought on her name. Nice title. he finally managed.

He resumed his shuffling from earlier, the uncomfortable teasing at his bum. He doesn't have worms okay Again moving to distract himself he spoke up. So wouldn't dickwit patrol fall into the leagues of someone below such an august creature as Fox Redleaf-DiSarinno -Alpha of Blacktail Deer Plateau? Also what's with the pair of Fin's in your pack? Left field question, certainly distracting from his awkward shuffling about.


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It was only then that Fox payed enough attention to realize that Fang had been scuttle-butting around. She dismissed his questions entirely (as she often did when there were more pressing matters at hand), and asked him point-blank, “You got a dingle-berry or something, dude?” Fox paused for a moment, and then said, “I can leave you be if you need to, uh, take care of that.” Bodily functions were no taboo topic in Fox's conversational vocabulary.

The last thing Fox wanted to do was watch some stranger pluck a piece of stuck poo out of his butt. If it were Peregrine, on the other hand... Nah, who was she kidding. That would probably be even more disgusting. She wasn't that gross.

If it were possible to see the colour drain from his face, it would be safe to assume that he would be as white as a ghost at her calling him out on the fidgeting. Almost as though something had climbed its way out of the dirt and bitten him on his delicate bum he shot up into a standing pose. Whatno! he blurted out before he was fully standing. The ground was cold. Give me a little credit. Huffing the final words, almost a mutter.

Golden eyes turned back on Fox, almost squinting at her. Now really, what kind of question is that. "Oh hi, i'm alpha of this pack, by the way do you have shit on your ass?" The accusation came out in a mocking tone, the grin and suppressed laugh a good indication he meant no malice. I think I see where Finley gets her twisted humour now. He added.


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Fox cackled at the entirety of his response. In some ways, Fang was beginning to remind her of Peregrine. She wondered if the two of them would get along, or if their similarities would only cause them to butt heads (lol, buttheads). “To answer your question,” she said, “Only the most highly trained Dickwit Detectors can be certified to carry out such a task. It’s a great honor, you see.” Once upon a time, she had been part of the Board of Proper Border Protocol. She felt she had moved up in the world of ridiculous titles. Perhaps she would acquire more as time went on.

“Maybe you should be a Dingle-Berry Expert,” she added with a devilish grin, lashing her tail in amusement. Apparently, she didn't have what it took for such a duty (lol, doodie), but Fang seemed to know a thing or two about poo stuck in his butt.

He could hardly hold his laughter in. Even if it was mostly at his expense, Fox, it seemed was becoming someone he enjoyed. It was a rare occurrence that the vain hybrid stumbled across someone who could make fun of him, and leave him laughing. So, you're something of a dickwit detective? An expert? I'd still be asking for a better title. Alpha Fox Redleaf-DiSarinno, dickwit detective first class. Certainly seemed amusing.

Tilting his head to the side a little he continued between small chuckles. I don't think I really want to be an expert on faecal matter. as appealing as the title sounds. Where was this conversation going? Dicks and poo. What is this, 5th grade? And just between us, you seem to be more aware of dingle-berries and the behaviour that comes with it. I for one don't get poo stuck in my bumfluff. Puffing his chest out, speaking with perhaps a little more pride than was really required.

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“Never?” she pressed, unable to believe such a claim. Even she, the most noble of Dickwit Detectors and Board of Proper Border Protocol committee members had been known to succumb to such embarrassing moments. She would not believe for a second that Fang had never had poop hanging on for dear life. Sometimes she happened to ingest a hair that was a little too long, or she'd munch on some grass to calm her stomach. Those were the two main culprits of dingle-berry afflictions.

“Maybe, Dingle-Berry Expert, you can check my bum for danglers,” she said. Without waiting for him to confirm or deny, Fox promptly pointed her red butt at him and stuck her tail straight up to reveal, for lack of a better word, her butthole. Her eyes, of course, were facing the other way, but she was wearing a shit-eating grin the whole time.

And just like that he found himself being presented with Fox's balloon knot. Also forgetting the fact that she also presented a multitude of other cues that were highly inappropriate. As quickly as he could he turned his face away, eyes clenched shut with an exaggerated "Gah!" sound. If I say you're clean can you please just point that elsewhere? The question erupted whilst he looked down and away.

He kept his gaze averted before speaking again, not quite brave enough to look back up. If you're going to put me in that position, can you at least not make it about your asshole? Did he just slip a pass in their?

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Fox let out a hearty guffaw, wiggling her butt without even really intending to. She probably would have let it go at that point, but Fang managed to set up yet another response that Fox was certain he would get a good laugh (or gag) at. “Eh? You saying there’s poop in my hooha?” she asked, stifling a chuckle with all the willpower she could muster. Fox hadn't had this much fun (aside from her farting contest with Peregrine) in awhile.

Giving up on her antics, she put her tail back down and turned back around to face Fang. “It’s a shame you’ve already got something else lined up,” she said, “I feel like you’d fit right in at the plateau.” Fox could definitely see Peregrine and Fang shooting the shit and having their own farting contests. But she knew that her mate was unlikely to make friends outside of his own pack. She'd been the exception to that rule (once upon a time), and she couldn't see him making another.

And just like that awkward went to downright weird. Eyes down he responded to the question in serious note. I Ain't lookin to find out. the shuffling sound of her turning around was his sign to look back up. Despite facing her head once more the image of Fox's anus was apparently burnt into his retina. What did he do to deserve that? Blinking hard a few times trying to rid himself of the sight, I Won't be far away, down at that creepy forest over there. He made a general "in that direction nod" So next time you feel like exposing your ass, or your preferably-not, shit covered hooha. You wont have to travel far for the dingle-berry expert

Of course he was seriously hoping she wasn't about to invade his new found pack-land to show off again. The sudden fear of waking up to Fox's ass pushed down the mouth of his den, with her screaming "ARE THERE DINGLE-BERRIES" made him wish he hadn't informed her where he was living.

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A younger, more single Fox likely would have made some kind of sexual joke, but those were usually reserved for Peregrine these days. “I got my own Dingle-Berry Expert back home,” she replied, like it were the most common thing to mention in the world. “He’s also gonna be the father of my babies, so you better get your mind off of my hooha, stat.” She wasn't sure if Peregrine would actually mind it if she flirted with other boys, but she was uncomfortable with it beyond a certain point.

For a time, Fox had entertained the idea of having an additional lover (or lovers) with Peregrine. After some thought, though, she realized she just wasn't cut out for that kind of lifestyle. Peregrine was more than enough, and as much as she was power hungry, having a dozen drooling boys at her feet didn't seem all that appealing. Where was the fun if she didn't have to work for it?

For a moment he thought about arguing, after all she was the one that brought it up. Instead he shrugged it off. Yeah, I think he can keep your dingle-berries. okay. Not that he would have objected had the circumstances been different, but one generally did not push buttons with the alpha of a neighbouring pack. Even one as downright insane as Fox was starting to look. Still, it would seem he wouldn't have to venture far for entertainment if the need arose.

The hybrid looked around for a moment, before the opportunity for her to make some other bizarre attack on his senses he felt it was time to move on, and return to the task of cleaning the stink out of his coat. Well miss, Fox Redleaf-DiSarinno, I should probably move on to my home. With that he'd begin to take a few steps in whichever direction the forest home was, before turning back briefly to add. Like said, I won't be far. So if your dingle-berry baby father doesn't work out, give me a shout. Just, you know. No actual poop, okay? And suddenly a suave line went to shit. see what i did there
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+10 entertainment on this thread.

Fox would make it a point to come running to the woods as soon as she noticed her next dingle-berry. Perhaps she would even eat grass just to urge one along. The thought made her shudder with an evil sort of glee. In many ways, it reminded her of when she had first arrived in the Teekon Wilds and had run around being a complete idiot. Not that so much had changed since those days. She just ran around a little bit less. Fang excused himself, for which Fox was a little bit saddened, but she didn't protest.

Instead, she only called after him with a, “Bye, Mr. Dingle-Berry Expert!” Snickering to herself, Fox didn't wait for him to be out of sight before she pointed herself toward her own home and began the trek back to the plateau. Peregrine would simply have to hear about this.