Swiftcurrent Creek give me the heart of an archeologist, that i may dig until i prove that i exist
i found brimstone in my garden,
i found roses set on fire
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All Welcome 
a storm had passed over them the night before—an event of blustering winds that squalled like catamounts, lightning that cleaved open the sky and great peals of thunder that kept Tiercel’s head nuzzled frightfully into her mother’s fur. she didn’t like the lightning most of all, the way it flashed and filled the sky with blinding skewers of light and bellowed long into the night.

the morning that followed was bleared by rainfall but there was a lull; calmness washed in after the showers had quieted to a drizzle. thunder rolled over a distant region, but it was no more than a murmur to the junebug as she trooped through the glade. her legs plucked gawkily over the dew-pearled bluegrass brushing her shoulders, tongue humming a bubbly melody as she went.  her black fur glistened with wetness, face caked with mud from splashing in the puddles left by the cloudburst. 

intrigue suddenly captured her attention. ”oOOOOOOOooooooOO,” she cooed, hovering over her choppy reflection in the water. as its surface settled, she stilled and brought her face obtrusively close; transfixed on the puppy mirroring her. ”houuuu!” she screeched, articulating what she thought was an appropriate how-do-you-do to the face staring back. she leaned in, observing her waterside counterpart mime her movement, and then reeled back with a jubilant giggle as she milled around the puddle. 

her tongue flopped from her mouth, head tilting like a seesaw. delicately she extended her toe tip to pat the surface of the water, causing it to wrinkle and distort. hmm. how can I get you out of there, my new, good-looking friend? Tiercel dropped to her belly, pressed against the wet grass with her back-legs akimbo. she drew her tiny snout to the water to sniff the other pup but it clipped right through the surface—”hooou...” her voice burbled, eyes following as bubbles climbed to the surface and strewed around her face.
1/3 threads. lowp, tag 2 manifest
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Her own pups had slept soundly through the storm that passed over their territory, unaffected by the downpour beyond their hollow and the rumble of thunder that accompanied it. Durnehviir chose to stay awake through the night should the noise or lightning rouse them, keeping watch to offer comfort that, thankfully, was not required.

Constantine, having been forced to seek shelter elsewhere in the territory overnight, returned when the storm dissipated. The crimson Frostfur left him with their offspring and newest ward to stretch her legs and hunt, arrived home at daybreak with a plump, fresh hair to share with him. Durnehviir prepared to take what was left to Wylla and her cub, just as @Viinturuth woke and whined his desire to follow. As the others still slumbered and her mate appeared exhausted, she allowed her firstborn to accompany her.

Rainwater clung to her ivory undersides as she trailed through the damp grasses in the direction of Wylla's densite, a section of her prey firm between her jaws. She peered over a narrow shoulder often to keep watch on her Winter-white son who padded obediently at her heels. He carried a gift of his own, mush to her amusement, and wondered inwardly how he'd feel about sharing with a child who was not his sibling.

She chuffed upon arrival to the coastal female's home, tail swishing in a happy greeting at the sight of a small black figure as she appeared to hover over a puddle. Durnehviir grinned to herself, amused, as she paused in her tracks to lift her head and look around for any sign of the child's mother.
everything mortal fades away in time, but the spirit remains
Swiftcurrent Creek
Gamma
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He woke at the sound of his mother's voice, and blinked sleepily up at his parents with a lazy flop of his scruffy white tail. They did not acknowledge him at first and instead seemed to talk among themselves, which didn't bother him until his dam pulled herself onto her feet and prepared to.. take her leave? Unimpressed, the boy gathered himself and lifted his wide eyes with a soft whimper, choosing to guilt her into having him along for the trip.

She did not object, and Viinturuth loped past her and into the clearing beyond their family's with a triumphant skip in his stride. The adult followed with a section of her breakfast which, of course, needed to be mimicked. The youngster searched the area for something of his own to carry, settling with the first thing he found: a half-chewed bone that he'd seen his sister gnaw on just the day before.

He followed Durnehviir closely, and was surprised at what she'd brought him to. Stopping at the sight of a strange pup, Viin's tall ears thrust forward in curiosity as he fixed his blue-brown eyes on her. First his father brought home a cub, and now his mother brought him to another? At least this one looked significantly more alive, the boy supposed, and he sidled up alongside the russet she-wolf's forelimbs to get a better look.
i found brimstone in my garden,
i found roses set on fire
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after a long, sleepless night with a frightened child and the row of behemoths overhead, the girl’s mother was likely still in the dryness of the den, catching up on hours lost to “soothing” her whelp. well, if soothing meant a whole lot of shhhh's and “chill out oh my god it’s just thunder” but… y’know, same thing?

the chuff that bid her ears gave Tiercel a turn; she lurched timidly, tail held against her underbody as her perusal of the puddle was interrupted by the rufous woman’s approach. despite her overall pluck and lack of horse sense when it came to obliging perfect strangers, as with Constantine, there was some inborn deference that canvassed her demeanor this time that hadn’t been present when she’d met Mahler.

though she initially didn’t notice the her-sized, cloudkissed babe hedging his mother’s lissome legs, Tier’s focus eventually convened on him. ”oohooooooohoo!” she crooned eagerly, shifting restlessly on her stomach as her tail whisked the puddle behind her with gusto. not having siblings or any social skills with other puppies for that matter, she looked expectantly between Durnehviir, Viinturuth, and the chawed bone he toted, for direction. it was obvious from her jitteriness that she wanted desperately to run up and greet the boy, but the situation was wrought with such novelty that she was overwhelmed and simply froze—resting her chin on the damp grass while her tail continued battering the water.
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