Wheeling Gull Isle heart made of glass, my mind of stone
suspended between survival and civility
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The nameless she-wolf had been saddled with a burden.

It was stronger than the pain she'd carried when her caretaker had died.  It was stronger than when  THE DARK MAN had set upon her.  It was stronger than when she had birthed her children.  She thought that maybe one day it might cease, or that it would lessen as time passed by.  As the days drew on, it seemed that her wishes would not be granted.  Instead, her failures seemed only to multiply.  Every time she thought of the Valley, it shattered her illusion of peace.  Even more, it hurt.  She missed it terribly; her mate, her babies, her boulder, the lavender.

Early in the morning, she had set her nose to the ground and started to map out the territory in her mind.  She had found her way to the pastel-swathed Rise, and it was there she could be found now, an ink blot silhouetted with the golden-orange rays of sunrise.

All of Undersea's beauty might have surpassed the Valley's, but the view did nothing to settle her nerves.

One thought as of late had plagued her more than the others.  It was Indra, savagely rounding upon her for no reason at the mouth of the valley.  "Have fun with your retarded children," she had spat venemously.  But Yakone was decidedly not dull.  Which meant that it was really meant for the raven, right?  And not once had Xan reassured her, or told Indra she was wrong for her assumption.  Blondine had always been holding something back.  Everyone seemed to have always been hiding something from her just out of her reach.  

If all of the Valley wolves thought she was a retarded, then was it much of a stretch to think all of the Island wolves thought she was one, too?

3/3
Crabs?! Giant crabs?! That definitely sounded like a creature from his worst nightmares, ranking right up there with ponies and Bambi.
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Ooc — Bryndel
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As the warm fingers of the sun's rays reached out over his island home, Driftwood was searching for the courage to confront some inner demons of his own. He had gotten up while the predawn air was still brisk, shaken off the dirt from his small dugout hollow whence he'd been napping, and set out with eager strides toward a side of the island he had not yet investigated. In the distance the colorful swathes of spring flowers bobbed in the breeze and beckoned him onward alluringly. Yet his footsteps began to slow and falter, as the scents of the area came clearer to his nose instead of being blown sidewise and away from it. His belly crept closer to the ground, and his bold footsteps began to skitter and skulk as his nostrils remained nervously atwitch. He didn't see any signs of wild horses ahead, however... He tried to bolster himself through a stern mental talking-to. What would Seelie think of him now if they could see him, or any of his other packmates for that matter? This was an island owned by wolves, wolves who should in no wise be afraid of prey... But Drift was still nervous, and his tiptoeing steps help themselves ready to flee in the opposite direction at any moment, should the least sign of a hooved one appear nearby.

What snagged his attention instead, however, was the unfamiliar sight and scent of a forlorn young female, her outline haloed in gold and bronzily limning her coat in such a way that Driftwood halted and stared at the statuesque creature for a long moment before cautiously starting to thread his way through the pastel palette of blooms toward her. Hello, he called as he drew closer, although not before taking another quick look around to make sure malicious ponies were staying well out of view, still. One never knew what those dastardly horsies might get up to if one didn't keep an eye out, after all... For once he stayed relatively quiet and respectful, though, and not just to avoid attracting any unwanted equine attention. There was something strangely hushed and beautiful about the landscape this early morning, and he almost felt there was some sort of spell he was breaking by intruding his presence upon it and the strange girl who seemed to complete the perfect picture. Drift's ears drooped as he wondered if perhaps he should just turn and tiptoe away, horses or no—but he had already spoken and surely this female could tell him if she didn't actually want him here intruding on her private space, right? What brings you out here this morning? he asked haltingly.

He hoped he wasn't just forgetting having met her before. But maybe if he just kept his words vague, she wouldn't notice, if so—and surely her scent would have been thicker around Wheeling Gull Island in general if she'd been here long? Uh. His brow furrowed as he tried to remember for absolute certain that he'd never before smelled her presence here. Crap.
suspended between survival and civility
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She did not notice Driftwood until he called to her, and it frightened her so much she bristled instinctively.  Her tail tucked between her legs as she stiffened, and her jaw set as he ghosted towards her.

Her gaze was fixed on the stranger but his seemed to flit to and fro, as if he were hiding from something.  She softened a little at first, ad then when his words were pulled from his lips hesitantly, she unfurled entirely.  A soft whine pooled in her throat as she closed the rest of the distance between them and promptly shoved her nose right into the ruff of his fur — behind his ear, trailing down his side before she lingered at his hindquarters.  Once she had finished she cocked her head at him and yipped.

3/3
Crabs?! Giant crabs?! That definitely sounded like a creature from his worst nightmares, ranking right up there with ponies and Bambi.
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Ooc — Bryndel
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Driftwood saw the female jerk back in surprise, and shrank back uncertainly himself in turn. He stared at her with big, round eyes and one paw raised apprehensively. Okay, so maybe he had overstepped his welcome—vague half-formed plans to make as unobtrusive an escape as possible began to flit through his head.

But even as he caught his breath and froze in hasty recalculation, the girl seemed to thaw upon reconsidering his words. His ears perked at her whine, but the expected reply did not issue from her lips. His front paw wavered back down to the sand, but he otherwise stood there as stiff and unresponsive as a statue, save for the slight turning of his head and the riveting of his eyeballs to her boldly nosing him over. Driftwood caught his tongue indecisively between his teeth, still staring, but as the stranger seemingly decided that he had passed whatever test had caused her to surge forth and invade his space Drift too began to relax. His tailtip revived and began to wiggle its way slightly upward, and his hair follicles too relaxed their guard. There was still apprehension in his face, but also a dawning hopeful friendliness which came to dominate at her curious yip. He offered a low, huffing woof in return as he stuck his nose out a bit further in order to inhale deeply and try to get a better taste of her scent. His foreleg remained tense and uncertain, but ventured a bit of boldness of its own in return, as it lifted back up and poked inquiringly at the air between them, while still deliberately not quite making contact. It was only after he shoved the thing at her that Driftwood noticed the crust of wet sand that clung to his paw—whoops. Not that the wet nosetrail reverse-mohawked down his furry side was likely doing his appearance any favors either, just in case this lady had any overly-optimistic ideas about his refinement and poise. His nicked eartip drooped over in her direction too now, to complete the picture.

A bit embarrassed, he scraped the sandy paw surreptitiously against his other foreleg, glancing sidelong at the strange coat this female wore. He'd never seen a coloration or texture quite like hers...he didn't think. Though perhaps that was just another thing he'd forgotten. Driftwood suppressed a sigh, and gave himself a sudden quick shake to keep himself from dwelling on anysuch things. He looked again at the strange female and offered her a widening grin with only a small hint of lingering tentativeness.
suspended between survival and civility
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She watched carefully as he bristled and slowed her interrogation, though he did not seem pleased until she was finished.  As soon as she broke contact the strange male the life trickled back into his statuesque form, and her ears stood at attention as he vocalized at her.

She moved her nose forward to nearly touch his sand-encrusted paw.  Slowly, she sank down into a play bow, her rear end wagging behind her as she returned his hopeful yips.

3/3
Crabs?! Giant crabs?! That definitely sounded like a creature from his worst nightmares, ranking right up there with ponies and Bambi.
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Ooc — Bryndel
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He caught his breath and stared some more, as her long black muzzle almost-but-not-quite reached out in connection with his paw. His statue impression was growing less and less convincing, though, especially since his tail was waving in wider and wilder arcs with every passing beat, as if it had a mind of its own that like a sticky, overly-curious toddler was simply unable to continue the act any longer.

There was sand all up and down one angle of his radius now, as well as on his paw—yeah, good jerb thar, Drift—but he was distracted from the mildly niggling gritty sensation that prickled at his fur by the infinitely more enticing sight of the strange girl before him sinking her own forelegs down toward the sand. Driftwood's neck arched up playfully as his tail continued to wiggle strange sigils in the air; his voice was a much more enthusiastic full-voiced WOOF this time that boomed forth at a slightly louder volume than he'd quite planned for. Driftwood blinked and rocked back on his feet just a titch in surprise, but hardly hesitated a moment this time. His paw swooped forth with a much swifter and more self-assured motion this time as it left a small comet trail of wet particles in its wake. He bounced forward to give the lady a playful but clumsy bop on the nose; the shining black beacon couldn't escape his clutches for long, oh no it could not! He wasn't quite so uncouth as to attempt a "boop" noise to accompany it, but it was a little tempting, one had to admit.
suspended between survival and civility
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His bark both amused and frightened her.  For a moment she froze in time, held her breath so it felt like her chest was going to burst.  Her expression tightened, her tail stopped — and then multiplied tenfold.  His sandy paw arced towards her face and she was too slow to dodge.  The strange boy's toes splayed across her muzzle, smearing sand.

Silently, she lurched towards him with her own paws outstretched, hoping to bap him back across the face, or the side, or anything she could reach, and if she failed she would duck away quickly, making a quick arc around her fellow Tauhou.

3/3
Crabs?! Giant crabs?! That definitely sounded like a creature from his worst nightmares, ranking right up there with ponies and Bambi.
110 Posts
Ooc — Bryndel
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Wasn't certain if or when you might want to continue this, but I'm tossing an open-ended reply up here just in case.  ;)  <3

The girl froze in uncertainty, and Driftwood's heart turned over in his chest. He knew that look; he'd felt that way himself before, many a time. He tempered his eager reaching out, his golden eyes softening to the mellow consistency of honey as his paw retreated from her nose and he summoned up a reassuring smile for the female, though he had to fight back a laugh at the sandy besmirching of her face. (Whoops; he hadn't meant to redecorate... Some females were very touchy about their appearance, he'd noticed, and for a brief moment this worried him, in turn.) But she was already in motion, having hesitated only an instant; Driftwood was caught by surprise in turn, having misjudged just how quickly this girl's feelings would shift. She gave him a hefty swat which he jerked back from far too late. He startled and then split his face open wide in an ear-to-ear grim that left his tongue lolling goofily from his mouth. So that's how it was gonna be, huh? He happily gave another short, sharp bark as he spun to try and catch up, following her curve around his other side.

The female was more agile and graceful than he, but Driftwood didn't really care if he actually managed to get her again with the next hasty swipe of his paw. Either way, he was having fun. He bounced back out of range for a moment, ducked down into a play bow, and then suddenly pirouetted in place and galloped away across the sand. It took him a minute to to remember to turn around and make sure that she'd actually understood the invitation and taken him up on the chase.