Swiftcurrent Creek bleak

He laid on his side.

Eyes staring out, watching the grey clouds roll above. He tried to swallow--it felt like knives. A groan given--the fever had passed, but he hadn't recovered. Sickness clung to him still.

He could still see her haunting eyes.

His own shut with the memory. Already her voice was fading again.

The mind was a fickle creature.

The girl roved in search of another cache to raid. The little catches she of voles and mice were enough to satisfy her need for exercise, but provided only a slim amount of nutrients in comparison to the effort it took to hunt them down. She wanted an easier meal, something more substantial. 

She spotted Akavir, recognizing his dark fur and scent, though she was puzzled to see him simply flat on the ground. She wondered at first if he was dead, and approached him sheerly due to curiosity. She licked her nose and sniffed, noting that he didn't smell terribly dead, though he didn't smell completely healthy either. Despair seemed to hang over him. 

She pondered how the alpha of the pack had been felled- and if his power could be snatched away if he was defeated in such a shape. He didn't look like he would be terribly hard to defeat in this state. Anywhere else, it might have been a wonder that no one had sought to take advantage of the moment and strike. 

Willing to test the boundaries, and to see how much of a fight a sick wolf could put up she crept forward, her body held low like a badger. Her Labradorite eyes glittered with curiosity as she snuck closer- with the intention of nipping at his hind paws to see what sort of reaction she might get.

The clouds passed by—

—and a searing, sharp pain grabbed onto his ankle, stirring him to action. A snarl erupted from him, a twist of his body, and he was about to lunge his jaws to his alleged attacker when the sharp features of Cygnet came to him—erupting from his reactive stance—pulling him back and causing his growl to turn to a low grumble.

He pulled his ankle from her sharply—seering pain following his throat once more, particularly after the motion—and set a firm gaze to the youth.

If he had known better, he absolutely would have believed that she could be the younger sister to Mae—both had the sharpest set of puppy teeth he had been exposed to.

“Not today, little sister,” he murmured to her.

She ducked and loped to the side, prepared to flee should he lurch to his feet and lunge for her, but she didn't stray far. Like a hyena tormenting a lone lion, she was quick to slow her pace and venture closer yet again when she realized he wasn't going to give chase. His gaze did nothing to deter her, and she continued to regard him with a keen gaze that was both daring, undeterred by his warning. 

She circled around him, head low, mouth partially open. He'd pulled his foot away, but other than that...He hadn't really shown much strength or ability. Her curiosity bled, and she became power-hungry. She uttered only a soft, raspy growl, before she dipped toward him and nipped at his hock again, before skittering backwards- whale-eyed gaze watching to see what kind of reaction she might get on her second attempt.

Another sharp bite—a wince given and the man rolled over, his features set to a stormy frown. Cygnet was a mystery to him—he was beginning to suspect she was even a mystery to Arlette, who was raising the girl. His head swam for a moment as he cast a glare upon her, a flash of his teeth given in quiet warning. “You’ve got a lot of energy.” He paused, considering. “We’re going to need to find a way for you to get that out of your system.”

Preferably in a way that didn’t have her sinking her puppy teeth into his hind.

She expected him to lunge after her, though he seemed too weak to do so. All she was given was a reprimand, which floated over her shoulders like water off a duck's back. She felt accomplished, having bothered the alpha male twice, but she found herself losing the impulse to torture him now that it was clear that she would suffer no consequences. He couldn't fight back. Cygnet withdrew- not because the fight would be unfair, but because it simply wouldn't be fun. 

She chattered her teeth together, as if to laugh at his suggestion and continued to circle him, though she began to scent along, taking more interest in the area around them than in the ill man himself.

A chatter at him—unnerving, if it was laughter, but such was the pale girl, it seemed. He studied her for a moment, trying to ignore the pounding of his head and the fatigue of his muscles.

She was keen to scent things out—her interest remained in the more physical aspects of tasks and he considered this a moment. “Cygnet,” he drawled, wondering if she would even bother to pay any attention to him. “You wanna learn to fight and hunt soon?”

He couldn’t teach her now—but when he was better, they could try to tame some of that feral deviousness with some more exertion, perhaps.