Rosewater Oasis A white stag pulls up a stool and bellows hymns to enchantments.

Towhee felt recovered enough to stop overstaying her welcome in the ravine, though she didn’t possess the strength to go much further than whatever she found next door. She barely believed her eyes when she first saw the greenery of the oasis over yonder, thinking it might be some kind of mirage.

Then Towhee set foot in the place. All these sights and smells were real, as far as she could tell. And she might have worried that she’d died and gone to heaven, though she didn’t believe in that crap. Marveling at her fortunate find, she walked slowly until she came to a pool framed by six palm trees.

She stepped beneath their shade and helped herself to the surprisingly cool, sweet water. After she drank her fill, she considered exploring further but decided to take it easy instead. Towhee folded down beside the pool’s edge and seriously considered staying there forever.

A small figure as black as a starless night, a sharp coyote in appearance and round in belly, carried her signature hare. It had taken her far too long to catch the furry creature, too many days not hunting in a familiar land.

Hurt still hung on her face, clung like an annoying tick on an eyebrow. Tribe grow. Tribekin who still were able hunted, as was her task. 

Kusuma stopped for a moment, her throat burning from lack of water. Surely, she could stop for a drink...?

And then she froze, fur bushed out.

Wolf.

She daydreamed about sending a messenger to tell @Phox and anybody else who cared that she was retiring in this desert oasis. Towhee snorted but indulged herself. What if he and @Heph decided to join her here? She hadn’t been happy stationed in Moontide but she just knew it would be different here. This place was about as idyllic as they came.

Soft footsteps went unheard, same with the single word that dropped from the stranger’s lips. Towhee’s drowsy eyes raised by chance and she started at the svelte creature a few feet away. Well, she would’ve been svelte if not for the fact that every fur on her body appeared to be standing on end at the moment.

Uh, Towhee said, shifting to sit up a little bit straighter, hi? She paused awkwardly. Are you from the coyote tribe?

It wasn't this wolf's fault. 

But poor Kusuma had had a very bad time with wolves recently. Kusuma... tribe. she nodded her head, very slowly.

Weak. 

Vulnerable.

Don't let Wolf know numbers. No - tribe's true numbers must remain secret. hunt.

She didn’t look like any coyote she’d ever seen, though she resembled a wolf even less. Towhee tilted her head and studied the small, swarthy figure, belatedly realizing she looked a little round in the middle. That made her think of S’ari.

If the one-eyed coyote had been brief, this one was monosyllabic. Towhee missed the first word she spoke—a name, perhaps—but easily caught the others: “Tribe. Hunt.” There were so many possible interpretations, though she went with the most likely one.

I know S’ari. You might even say we’re friends. How are she and the pups doing? I hear she had three.

To that, she shook her head. In truth, the black coyjackal hadn't the courage to face S'ari and tell her of her adventures in the mountains. 

She was hoping Zoug would relay that information back to the she-coyote.

Not know. Busy. 

If a canid could have an unhealthy coping mechanism, Kusuma's was throwing herself at her job and forgetting most aspects of life. Her days revolved around hunting because it took effort from her head that she couldn't use to think for too long. 

It were the pups' kicks against her belly that reminded her she was eating for more than herself, and that she couldn't afford to simply not eat. They weren't guilty.

Wolf... name? 

she really didn't want to know, but polite conversation would hopefully keep the wolf from turning her into a fur rug.

Shit, sorry. I’m Towhee, she offered.

She idly wondered if the grumpy but ultimately benevolent coyote had fathered this lady’s pups as well as S’ari’s. Actually, she didn’t know if he was her friend’s baby daddy. She didn’t even know the guy’s name.

I’d help you hunt but I’m kind of in bad shape, she said after a moment. Maybe there’s some fish in here? Towhee added, gesturing at the pool.

Not know. she repeated, though she took her hare and sat it down, pressing her paw firmly into its head for half a second, as if saying stay! to it. 

Like a rabbit would know the meaning of stay.

Do I?

Her face reflected off the pool, and all she saw... was a void, rippling softly with the breeze. That didn't help as much as she thought it might.

Not hunt this far, normally. 

It's then she finally realized that common wasn't her first language, and explained this as K-Kusuma not ... from here - words hard. Wo- eh... nnn... Too...wee? she winced visibly, face contorting with how not the name that was. 

Words hard.

That response stumped her, though it turned out it didn’t matter much. Had she had the rabbit all along or had she just pulled it out of a hat like some magician? Towhee shook her head, sobered by the reminder that she wasn’t entirely well.

The dark-furred woman said something about the distance, then suddenly her words became garbled. Towhee could only pick out a few—“not from here,” “words hard”—and nothing else. Well, this certainly wasn’t the first time she needed a moment to parse someone’s meaning.

Sorry, didn’t catch all of that. I’m actually deaf. I like it when people speak simply, it’s easier for me to follow, she explained.

Deaf?

Wolfs could just not hear? Impossible! No, she didn't want to assume, but Wolfs have always heard. At least, it hadn't come up before in Kusuma's little life, aside from an off-handed comment or two (what were 'hands'?). 

There were a lot of things that Kusuma didn't understand, and she didn't claim to know much. Mrs. Wolf, Kusuma is sorry for... rude- Rude was the least of her worries. Wolfs and Kusuma have not gotten along often. Why is Mrs. Wolf here?

She did not know if Towhee was married or not, but she assumed so - most women she met were married in some form or fashion.

And how much of tribe did she know? If she was S'ari's friend, certainly she was welcomed in sandland, at least by coyote standard.

She didn’t really react to Towhee’s declaration, though the next time she spoke, her words were a little more enunciated. She apologized for being rude—earning a good-natured but dismissive snort from Towhee—then asked what the wolf was doing here.

Resting, she replied simply, pausing for a few beats before declaring, On that note, I’ll leave you to your meal. I’m gonna curl up in a nice patch of shade.

The palm trees provided a decent amount of it but Towhee wanted to give the pregnant(?) coyote(?) space to eat. With a couple of grunts and groans, she pushed upright, tipping a forepaw at the other canine before melting away into the green bowery.