Totoka River you say if you could fly, you’d never come back down
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Ooc — gerra
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All this water, and yet still she felt unsatisfied.

Translucent, cold, dripping, with rivulets tracing her jawline as she raised it up to listen to the forests around -- just before they began to fade to beach. Quiet, still, and the chorus of the water filled her senses in its place. Ame only sighed.

The water skims at her knees, parting the fur down to the skin, where remains the subtle lines of her pale scars -- of wartime, of sibling rivalries, of mountaineering gone wrong as an ungainly youth. She remembers in a cold rush and her ears pin back. She steps further in. It's cold (but better than frozen thanks to a handful of springlike days), and rising now to her chest. Angling her muzzle down, she sharpens for the hunt.

Dark swatches of fur shift with the waters, letting them bite straight to her flesh. But inside, there is still warmth. Stifling and unfamiliar, she feels she must be careful. Different, she would keep it at bay best she could.

A gleam of scales catches her eyes then and she strikes. Quick, precise, but the water obscures her.. and she is out of practice. The world echoes oddly underwater. Distorted, nothing is quite as it seems. Her furs waft around, tossing and turning with the current. Bubbles escape from her parted lips. A sweet, cold, cold surge. Ame squeezes her eyes shut.

She breaks the surface in a rush. The process repeats, over and over, until she has collected a suitable meal of fish to ease her hunger. By then, the day's light is almost done so she calls it quits. She resigns to bask in the last of the sunlight by the riverbank with her fresh picnic. Nighttime approached fast, and she gave her furs a mighty shake. The breeze comes, cold and crisp. She does not shiver.

Amekaze eats, content in her peace and quiet here in this sunspot by the river. Eventually, after a quick grooming, she dozes off.

The forest is swathed in an amber-toned-pink under the sunset by the time she peels her eyes open again, but she decides to lounge a bit more.

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Despite his chosen place of residence being quite a ways from it, Haunter had found himself with an increasing fondness for the coast. He found that he would sometimes dream of the roving, crashing waves, which was odd because years of his life had been spent without such night-visions of any kind. He could remember being very young the last times he had dreamed, and those shadowy and bloodied terrors could not be considered "dreams" in any sense of the word. Still, his dreams would bring him a few days away from the Creek, and he would visit the ocean with a lightness in his chest that he'd never before experienced. Watching the water, he felt most of his secret troubles go away with it.

He'd spent most of the early day on the beach, not doing much besides tramping through the damp sand and sometimes entering the icy saltwater for little other reason but to feel it. When he felt that sundown was nearing, the inky monolith drew his long legs out of the dunes and began making his way towards the forest where he would rest for the night and then begin his return journey to the Creek.

Leaving the loud waves behind, he found himself at the river, where he enjoyed several gulps of freshwater before marching along again—he stopped when he noticed that the blackened swathe of earth he was approaching, was actually a lying wolf. Her scent struck him as decidedly feminine as he drew closer, but more than that he could smell the fish on her. He made to make a route around her, but by now his proximity would've been noticed.

In a distinctly neutral fashion (for the feral wolf no longer wanted to tussle with loners), he kept his tail lank and his singular ear pulled back slightly. Though his eyes, yellow and ever-watchful, stayed carefully on the lounger, lest she find his rugged, spiky presence detestable.
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Ooc — gerra
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Respite seemed rare, but even as she relaxed, she was not inattentive. She knew it was necessary here in this place peppered with packs and other predators. And, she had lingered here a while, lucky to have had this much time to herself at the riverside without interruption.

Her ears swung his way and slowly, she peeled open her eyes once she could hear the approach drawing near. It was the smell of an unknown male, and the pack she knew less about, that did inspire some curiosity. To find he was a big, swarthy wolf minus one ear (not a feature she saw much of honestly), at least made her sit up straight to regard him in full.

Passing through? Ame asked while she rose to stretch. She was quick to focus her green eyes on him, sizing him up observantly, but his neutral presentation had yet to pressure her any for the time being. His purpose here could change this, but the loner would decide that when the time came.

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As the dark female pushed herself in a well-mannered sit, Haunter paused and regarded her fully now, his unnerving, sun-lit gaze tracing her svelte frame unabashedly. Though not fully facing him, she was angled in a such a way that he could see the recent scar upon her chest, betwixt the throes of her wildly swept fur. He met her pale green gaze briefly, but in an effort not to seem disrespectful, his eyes swiveled away casually before answering her.

"Seeking a place of reprieve for the night... before I make the return trip to my pack," he said, raspy voice surprisingly languid despite years of misuse. He was more intelligent than his still-feral appearance suggested; because indeed he looked no less wild despite being a part of the Creek for something like a month now. "Are you familiar with this area?" he asked after a pregnant pause, not usually one to seek advice, but in this case he figured it might get him what he needed in a more swift fashion.

The dissipating scent of eaten fish made his stomach growl obsessively, but he ignored it, figuring that the woods would provide him with a hare or late forager when he had the chance to hunt.
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Ooc — gerra
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The wilds were still intricately woven into the fibers of his being, a curious contrast to the subtle yet unmistakable scent of pack he also wore. It was plain to see with the wild curls of dark, dark fur framing him. As she glanced over him, she found herself drawn back to the tuft of fur where an ear had once been, but she did not linger long.

When he offered his explanation, she nodded ever so slightly and moved to her feet. A fluid motion took her to the river's nearby edge for a quick drink to sate the thirst left behind by her rest. All the while she considered her answer, mulled over his words and was left wondering how much he wanted to hear.

Lifting her muzzle, she would begin simply. The rest of her posture remained lax, only poised with the subtle undertone of confidence in herself. I am, and there was certainty in her words as she turned towards him with small droplets of water still falling from her snout. Between the Ridge's boundaries to the small mountain a ways away, these were her stomping grounds. The dark Rikudou had come to know them well. You have yet to find place that suits you? These woods are deep, expansive... she said thoughtfully with a vague gesture towards the forests that only darkened the further from the coast one trekked. Amekaze did not know what exactly he sought nor what his standards were.

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Because of the imposed hatred of himself that his family and birth-pack had instilled into him at a tender age, Haunter was never overly fond of black wolves. This seemed strange, as it should be the pale devils and abusers that he had known that should cause him to dislike their race—but the opposite was true, and before he had joined the Creek and began to marginally change in ways he could not yet describe, Haunter would have been dismissive or violent towards the raven creature before him. Her confidence would have irked him, and her languid movements would have roused him with jealousy. But now he could appreciate the younger female, he was interested even, despite the unchanged expression on his dark face.

He did not waste a moment to explain after her subtle query as to what he was looking for. "I prefer dark spaces. To be relatively unseen in—and I am not a fan of sunrises," he rumbled in his deep rasp, not feeling the need to explain that this rayless, unlit space needed to be big enough to comfortably accommodate him and his long legs. He watched her, sometimes peering curiously into her cunning, mint-leaf eyes, as he wondered if she knew a spot.
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Ooc — gerra
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He was difficult to read. An unchanging expression, a neutral look about him, brightly-hued eyes that still showed less (not that she dared to loiter on them so not to offend)..but she was trying to peg him one way or another. He was more enigmatic than most and seemingly, not so eager to ask personal questions as others were. Amekaze was fine with this and took in his answer with a thoughtful hum.

She consulted her mental map of the woods and sought the deepest, darkest places she knew without leading him to places she would be using. Too close to the falcon mountain would not do and nor did she wish to point him towards the Ridge's proximity out of respect for Akhlut.

I see, she murmured. Is your pack far? He smelled of that one she knew little of (she rarely encountered them), and perhaps guessed it was well across the valley and beyond if he did not have desire to return. Or his travels had been extensive today and tiredness wore. I know a few places that may interest -- big, aged trees with gnarled roots in a low spot of the woods? And in a copse of them, other trees could block much of the offending sunrise once its time came. Dark and shadowed, it had felt protected. That way. They have served me before, Ame gestured behind her, then watched him once more.

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The dark, incurious male continued to stare—perhaps impolitely—and explored her features for a hint of something he could mistrust. It didn't take much, but he could presently find nothing misgiving in her expression as she thought of what to tell him. He wondered (because he had met the type before) if she were a deceitful harlot intending to lead him into the territory of a cougar, bear, or something equally as vile, but her vague interest in where he had ventured from gave him the impression that she wasn't of that particular influence.

"In the valley, southeast of the mountains." He didn't mention Swiftcurrent Creek by name, not because he didn't trust her with the information, but rather because she hadn't specifically asked for it. Haunter tended to be a very literal wolf, not yet attune to social influences, cues, and other genial behaviors common to familiar conversation. He listened, but found himself focusing now on the slight accent she had in certain words, due to being born of two languages. He had noticed it, but Haunter had been more concerned with her usefulness rather than the sound of her voice; he was interested in it, but not inquisitive enough to ask.

Instead he listened to her instructions and allowed his gaze to follow the motion of her muzzle into the deepening woods. He gazed for a moment, and then his yellow eyes flickered back to her inky face. He thought to thank her, but his mind changed just as quickly as the thought had formed, and instead he chose to speak something more beneficial to himself. "I'm hungry as well... Would you teach me to fish?" Since she was being useful and all. And this somehow seemed more polite than outright asking her to catch one for him.
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As suspected, his answer was not of a pack nearby. She nodded in quiet response. She could not know exactly how long it took to travel here from there but did not ask. It wasn't particularly relevant and neither did she care all that much.

Ame had no reason to think ill of him. Her time in self-imposed solitude had soothed some disruptive tendencies that the war of home and her problematic sister had inspired in her, so she had no motivation. Her judgements were based on the here, the now, and considering he answered her when she asked, there was no reason for her to conspire against him. She existed simply, and so long as he, his pack, and their fellows stayed away from her and where she rested, she had nothing against them.

If anything, her only motives were to not steer him towards her most preferred places. Not that they were secret, nor reserved solely for herself, she was not about to go pointing someone in their direction. She felt they got enough unwanted attention as it was, by her standards, anyway.

There had been a moment where she wondered if that would be all. However, her muzzle tilted when he asked about fishing. Have you ever tried before? she asked. Her skill in fishing was one of her better hunting abilities -- particularly handy in being a lone wolf usually near a river. She had done nothing but polish the skill here in the Teekon but teaching the concepts were not within her experience. It is not so hard, assuming you are not afraid to get wet.. Ame mentioned and peered into the water. And, having the ability to continue with a strike even with a nose full of water helps too..

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The wolf peered at her levelly for a moment, wondering if she had meant to subtly offend him, but realizing that she was simply trying to gauge exactly how much training he'd need in this instance. Haunter's lean hunched shoulders moved almost imperceptibly in a shrug, his yellow eyes glancing lankly towards the creek. "I've tried..." he rasped languidly, a little less-than-casually indicating that his ventures in fishing had not been successful and he wasn't about to elaborate.

"I'm not afraid and I am capable enough," he added in lackadaisical response, dreaded sunny eyes rolling back to the dark female and resting impolitely on her slim muzzle. He saw features now that could make her an adequate fisher, a hunter period, with her sharp, dextrous features and those clever minty eyes. Haunter motioned towards the water. "Teach me... please," he added the ending nicety a little harshly, unused to the sound of it on his tongue.
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Since you say 'please', she smirked, sweeping her muzzle from him towards the water, hopefully indicating for him to come closer. Even she could tell how odd that sounded on his voice, the rasp of it seeming gritty and uneven despite the... nice subject matter.

She was curious to watch him move, to see how he'd handle himself in the water, and how he hunted so that she might provide the insight best suited to him. It was how she had always taught Mizuna once the foundations were understood -- show me what you can do, and I will steer you from there.. Amekaze assumed he at least had that much. You should show me what you do know, she suggested as took to the waters with ease, smoothly striding forward and pointing her muzzle downward with a careful squint. She paused once the water was nearly to her belly. I like to get far enough into the waters and wait, so that the fish might come to me, she said, facing into the currents. Ame had seen bears do something similar. Anyway, she was looking for wish while waiting to see what he may say. A few tiny slivers of minnows skirted by, only barely seen, but these were not what she sought and would not make for a very informative lesson. She was patient, however, and knew not to get ahead of oneself when fishing. Frustration would only make it more difficult..

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He figured she was mocking him somehow, but was able to largely ignore the thought because anything less than being physically antagonizing wasn't a problem in his eyes. His yellow gaze followed her now into the creek's bed, watching as the water rippled and lulled around her sleek frame; it molded around her as if she were a part of it, and from that moment on Haunter's dreams of the ocean (aka his "wet dreams") were then occasionally riddled with a dark, svelte sea-wolf of mysterious origins and minty-green eyes.

He followed her after a moment, his long legs which were swift and graceful on land now becoming weighted and foreign to the rest of his body. He splashed but was aware enough of fishing mechanics to know better than to let that occur again, so he began to coordinate the movements of his limbs to be slower and therefore more stealthy, as he came to stand at the dark female's side.

Water lapped her chest, but was only scraping Haunter's belly. He ventured further and remembered her advice as he patiently waited for the clueless prey to beginning waning his way once more. Eventually two or three swiveled in his direction, and when they came within a foot of him (which was generally close enough to successfully snag a rabbit from) he lunged for them. Unused to the viscosity of water when compared to thin air, he crashed into the stream and returned drenched but empty-mouthed.

He shook his massive head and made a low, irritated noise in the back of his throat. He tossed a rather accusatory glance at his "teacher".
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ahh an endcap.
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There were some that just did not have the finesse or innate ability for this. Or the luck. Both were at play here, she believed. She knew she had the skill and had honed it over months alone. When other hunting's luck failed her, fishing was her fall back. But, this was not a strategy for all.

She watched him with a vaguely amused look, although said nothing and passed no judgements. It was as she had asked him to do, and this worked well. She'd had her share of fishing failures that had only served to land her soaked and hungrier than before. Hm, perhaps try being more patient. Your technique is good, already, but the waters are not easy, nor are their inhabitants... She elaborated with a few extra tricks she knew and told him all she could. It was not the most easy of topics to explain but she just went with the straight-forward approach and hoped it would make sense to him. Watch, she finished with and poised herself for her own strike. Waiting for the right moment, she landed a blow on a small fish, then shook her head.

Hoping that he may try again, she watched him in return. She would advise him until he wanted her company no longer, or became proficient enough to catch something -- whichever came first. Once done, she would disappear back to the woods and rest..

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i want to bleed in the 「r a i n