Noctisardor Bypass Heavenly storehouses laden with snow

All welcome! Anyone in Heda’s band will do.

John had been out one early morning, and after he had finished the daily marking, he had decided on his route to gather what moss he could find for the family’s den. By the time he made it back to the den, his mouth was full with moss. He stepping into the den and dropped it on the floor, then kicked it around. After that was done, he stepped back outside the den mouth and sat down, looking around at the landscape. It was all covered with snow, beautifully white and fluffy, like fallen clouds. 

He looked up to the sky briefly. It was almost as white as the snow itself, as most winter skies did. All was peaceful, all was quiet, so quiet in fact he could hear, or more so feel, his heart beat, and so he listened intently, closing his eyes.

gun reappeared in teekon wilds with all the elegance of a fart let loose at sunday service - wet, loud and juicy!

the mastiff tumbled down a slope, borfing each time her vacant head hit the ground as she descended, the journey depositing her at the base, face down, ass up, and wrinkles full of ice.

head buried under snow, she borfed once more.

The quiet of a Sunday service, no more. His ears flicked towards a tubing sound accompanied by another strange sound. He stood up in almost an alarm, in a ready stance. He ventured away, but not too far, from the den and found something bright orange sticking up out of the snow. He kept a distance, let out a growl and his hackles began to raise. Whatever this “thing” was, he’d never seen anything like this in his mere two years of life.

“Come forth and show yourself!” He called out, voice as strong as he could. Being firm wasn’t his forte.

gun yanked her head out, small pile of snow still atop her near-concave snout. the mastiff sneezed - slimy nosegunk shooting out her nostrils, right at the feet of-

gun borfed again, tumbling backward and onto her rear. 

shit! her frantic eyes swung over the stranger, materialized from - she'd swear to god - her runaway snot.

...hhhhhack. panic left her in a deep exhale. holy shit, dude, hhere'd ya cohh hhrom?

John was in shock, jaw dropping shock, who and what was this swearing, bullish creature? He stepped back a couple steps, his head held high, “I beg your pardon!” He remarked at her choice of words, “Who are you, and why are you here?“ If there was anything on this earth that John had no mercy for, it was swearing. He tried to think, what would be a good and rational way to address this situation. He also wondered what Heda would think, a trespasser within their carefully marked perimeters. 

He would give this creature a chance to explain themselves, if they had a good reason, perhaps he could look past the words.

hhaah hhaah, in place of "woah".  hhait, ish thish, uh, hha-- grouhhh-- her impediment failed her.

ish thish your turhh, dude? territory? gun looked around, rubbing her nose with a forearm. swear to allfuck, she smelled nothing besides snowflakes in her windpipe.

'cuzh, y'know, lil ol' hhe had noooo intentionsh ohh, uh, causing trouble? she couldn't lie like that. she had a reputation.

i'hh new here, ish hhat i 'ean. and her mangled visage gave its best try at a sheepish grin.

He didn’t know where this woman came from, or still what she was, but her speech was almost incomprehensible, most likely due to the mangled face. He tried to pick apart words, but it was hard, although he managed to understand a couple sentences. One being that she was wondering if it was his territory, and the second being that she was new here. Being the good man he was, he wouldn’t kick her out, because there was more to someone than what was on the surface. He wouldn’t want to judge, even if the swearing scarred his eardrums. 

“I am John. And yes, this is the temporary home of I and my flock. We are travelers, but decided to settle here for a time in Noctisardor Bypass.” He explained in short, “May I help you find your way? And I don’t believe I know your name miss…?”

john. john. johnny-boy. finally, a normal name. and he had... a flock? like... sheep? was he a shepherd? lil' sheep-fucker, he?

gun wouldn't judge.

gun! she told johnny-boy, grinning. with a grunt, she dislodged from the snow, then shook out her rear.

and i 'ouldn't hhind. with pops of bone gun stretched her hindlegs and lower back. i ahh shuch a...

...losht sheehh.

she slapped her eyelashes at him.

The large woman had said her name was Gun. A strong name, a name of someone that probably shouldn't be trifled with. She had also spoken what sounded like she was a lost sheep. John cocked his head slightly, wondering. She slapped her eyes lashes at him, which was awkward internally, for him. He spoke a response softly: “A lost sheep? Well then, Gun, I shall try my best to help you. Is there a place you seek? Family or friends that are in these wild?” 

Deep down, he wondered about her even more. Where did she come from, what was her history? Hopefully with some gentle digging, he can find this out.

family or friends?

gun grinned to herself. tar-snout and lil' red and clucker were none of than, yet much more. and the gang in total weren't the sorta people good, simple lamb-diddlers like johnny-boy went looking for.

which gave her an idea.

heh, actually. the mastiff lightly dragged a paw through the snow, playing up girly shyness despite having the mannerism of a logging accident.

ah heard there 'ere, uh, gangshters, around. like, shtraight uhh rotten guysh. you heard anything? she looked at him with her wettest puppy eyes.

A grin to herself, she then drew in the snow with her paw, puppy eyes activated. She mentioned gangsters, a gang. Here, in the bypass? That didn’t make sense, and unfortunately, it wasn’t something he would prefer to bring up to Heda (Widow). “I have not heard of any such thing. As far as I know it’s been four of us here. There are neighboring packs, but not close by any means.” 

This was getting strange, and with each word spoken, his mind tried to analyze bits and pieces of it. On the brighter side, it was getting a little easier to understand her.

“Are you in any danger, Gun? If there’s any nearby danger, my flock and I will have to leave quickly.”

none. nothing. hhuck.

gun's paw raised to tousle her ears, the way a woman might scratch at her neck. was the gang still all the way in the wetlands? made sense. @Colt probably took over the isle, beat some sense into the lead bitch. currently ruled there with a hoe on each side of his bone throne. definitely.

gun couldn't imagine an alternative.

briefly unfocused, her eyes scampered back toward johnny-boy. the mastiff chewed her lip - the lip she had left - and weighted her options.

the scale was broken.

ooh, it'sh nothing. she waved a paw. jusht tryna, uh, get the lay o' the land. current hholitics, y'know?

gun hopped onto her fours.

'ell, hhanchy 'eeting you, johnny-hhoy, 'ut i gotsh to go. got work to do. as if attempting to convey some hidden meaning she herself was oblivious to, gun winked at the guy.

“Ah, politics, I understand.” He replied, “Well then, I won’t keep you from your work, Gun.” “A pleasure, I’m sure. Now go in peace and stay safe.” He would then see her off, watching as she trekked through the snow and into the distance. Once she’d gone, he’d turned to go back to the den, all the way rolling his new nickname on his tounge quietly to himself; “Johnny-boy… Hm.”