Swiftcurrent Creek Out in the garden
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All Welcome 
Evening found the druid within one of the shallow, safer stretches of the waters that the forest was known for. 

Issy had an average amount of experience with the various fields of hunting, though she was certainly no expert. She'd decided to try her hand at fishing - recalling the times she'd disappeared to the shallow creek on the edges of her family's territory as a child. The druid had loved standing in the shallows, still as stone. After a time, the fish would grow accustomed to her presence and forget she was even there. She'd loved watching the fish, they sometimes swam so close she could have touched them but she never dared - for fear they would startle and never return. 

It had taken longer than she thought for the fish to ignore her presence and venture close enough, nor was it as easy to hold still as she remembered. Still, the druid waited for her chance. 

In time, a fish swam up next to the girl - her silver eyes following from the place she'd been frozen in for the past hour. For a moment, she merely watched as the fish glided past her foreleg - turning to swim past the dark bird's sodden chest. 

Issy's head snaked out, snatching the fish up in her open jaws and flinging it with a panicked swing in the general direction of the creek's bank. She hadn't expected the fish to be quite so slimy, or for her nose to fill with water so. 

She treaded water, splashes breaking the silence as the fish scattered and she pulled herself from the water. 

When the girl glanced to the fish, she did a double take before bounding towards it hurriedly. It was flopping, only inches away from reaching the water and freedom.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no," the druid chanted, kicking it with each iteration, knocking the flipping thing back up onto the bank where it lay gasping.

"Oh gross," she muttered, nose wrinkled as she watched it gasp for air and continue to twitch.
"A sad soul can kill quicker, far quicker than a germ."
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#2
as it had with the ascent of caiaphas to the head of grimnismal, the tension within the creek grew. mahler did not know the details, nor did he wish to know such things; he busied himself with patrols and hunting, the drying of herbs, musing over what it was he would do if swiftcurrent splintered. he decided he would ask chusi and her brood with him; as the youngest pups, there was no doubt in the musiker's mind that they would be in need of protection.
and what of the woman aria, and their discussion? mahler sensed she did not wish to leave; therefore he spent no more time considering her for that purpose, instead moving to a brief recollection of the unsaid things behind her ice-white gaze. and then he shook her from his head, setting off at a brisk clip toward the creek.
dismayed to see that he was not alone, mahler watched impassively the featherpelted creature, willowy beneath hues of smooth gunmetal and burnt cinnamon. and while he would have preferred to be alone, the newcomer and her pleasant appearance were enough to bring an introductory chuff from mahler. if he must suffer company, at the very least he could find interest in perusing the stranger's unique features.
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Her dark crown raises, her youthful features wide and open with surprise; the witch hasn't quite mastered the art of masking her emotions just yet. 

For a heartbeat she expects Constantine - the only male she's met amongst the Creek wolves - and nearly greets him in the old tongue. Her words are halted before they can be born by the difference in their aura more than their appearance. He is not Constantine - nor could Iseabail ever again mistake him for the Creek's leader. 

He is silver where the Mayfair is dark and his amethyst eyes are frigid enough to make the cheerful girl subconsciously uncomfortable. 

Dark ears lower with submission automatically - a habit more than anything by now. Her attention drawn fully from the dying fish, she chuffs in much the same manner - too shy to break the silence in the wake of a male much older than she. 
"A sad soul can kill quicker, far quicker than a germ."
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he was taken off guard by the realization of how young she was, her wide-flung eyes and submissive silence testament to the humbug he was. the gargoyle approached, his broad muzzle lowering to sniff at the fish gasping its last along the bank; he lifted a wide paw and pressed the creature into the earth until it ceased its movements.
"vhat is your name?" came his inquiry, direct, impassive as always, his gaze intrigued by the pale eyes bringing back to mind aria. she was new, the scent of constantine just tangled into her withers, but he appreciated that she had already begun to hunt, this as of yet voiceless girl over which he somehow towered even if he too was made uncomfortable by this. 
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He advanced, a broad paw covering the fish and squishing it into the earth. The girl stifles a gasp - certain he wants to scare her. 

His question was direct, enough so that she answered without pausing to reflect on his accent. "Issy," came her answer, soft and quiet even as her pale gaze flashed with the lie. 
"A sad soul can kill quicker, far quicker than a germ."
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he had not meant to frighten the girl, only relieve the fish of its suffering. but he did not take the time now to consider that, and lifted his chin. "mahler." another scrutinizing glance. "you are new." a simple enough observation, and one to which he did not need an answer. "patrol?"
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An ear twitched at the name - mistaking it for mauler - and stifling a swallow. Something about the male made her nervous though even she wasn't quite aware of it - likely it was nothing more than the fact that he was so stern. 

No answer was needed. So she gave none. Only the spirits answered - whispering through the trees, singing through the birds, mumbling through the bubbling of the Creek. 

Surpise flashed in herthe silvery orbs and she nodded in immediate response, hurriedly burying her fish and marking the mound of dirt with a small black stone for fear Mauler would leave her behind.
"A sad soul can kill quicker, far quicker than a germ."
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the woman followed; mahler did not look fully upon her again, though he matched his stride to hers that they might walk alongside one another. "our numbers are small," the gargyole explained, "therefore i take pains to enforce our borders where i might." to demonstrate, he reared up on hind legs along a birch, ripping at the paper-thin bark with his foreclaws. as he descended, mahler passed his impassive gaze to the woman,  wondering if she would follow suit.
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She is a silent, studious pupil at his side. The raven follows just a beat behind, footfalls muted on the fallen foliage. 

Silver gaze lights upon the tree he has gouged with his mark. Mauler descends from his rear, expectant eyes falling on Issy. She's quick to follow suit, rearing onto strong hindlegs to scratch her own marks in the trunks. It's a strange feeling - claiming some section of the forest for her own. She's never had a claim to anything. As she falls back onto four feet, she admires the scratches with something akin to pride. 

Her gaze shifts to Mauler, having forgotten her trepidation around him, and a slight grin lights her features.
"A sad soul can kill quicker, far quicker than a germ."
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more than the girl perhaps realized, mahler appreciated her silence. a small but genuine smile tugged at the gargoyle's somber mouth in return as he watched her find delight in their task. hard work had always been the foremost source of satisfaction in his life; perhaps she would come to find the same. he set off along the treeline again, lifting a hindleg to mark here and there, and scoring the trunks as he moved.
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Issy returned Mauler's smile, somewhat shyly, and felt a trickle of warmth in her chest. It had been easy to start crushing on Constantine and Aria, and the aesthetic soul within her could not deny the beauty of Aura or Chusi but this was different. He was older and there was approval in his gaze, it was not so strange that the young girl would feel bashfully flattered. 

The druid concealed this from him, as she often concealed her feelings for many, for she knew it was unlikely that she would ever act on her youthful attractions. 

Issy trailed along after him, marking the borders occasionally where permitted, hoping to make a friend of the stoic male.
"A sad soul can kill quicker, far quicker than a germ."
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she continued her quietude, and he followed suit. the aria of birdsong in the cold air reminded the musiker he had not sought new compositions in quite a while. there would be time for it later, the gargoyle turned himself, slowing so that he might fall into step with the young newcomer. "from vhere did you come before?" 
lilac stare turned forward, seeking the changes in the air and flora that might indicate nearby watchers, or prey. his tone was softer than before, for mahler had learned his usual succinct nature was less than conducive to conversation.
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Her gaze lifted, turning to the older man with surprise as he broke the silence though it was not unwelcome. 

"Beyon' here," she answered simply, cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the vague answer, "we lived alone, my parents an I. If it had a name they never shared it with me. It was but a forest east of these lands. I traveled west and arrived here," she concluded softly. 

Guilt curled around her heart as her thoughts turned to Aimee. She'd omitted the girl's death, for obvious reasons, yet she couldn't help thinking of her often. She'd been like a little sister, a daughter. Issy had saved her only to watch her die; it was her greatest shame - that she had indirectly caused Aimee's death.

If you'd left her be, she'd be hurt but alive at least. You should know by now, you ruin everything you touch.

"What of you? Where did you call home?" She asked suddenly to distract herself from the grief.
"A sad soul can kill quicker, far quicker than a germ."
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the cadence of her voice was unexpected, but pleasant. she remained direct, to the point, the way mahler preferred in all conversational partners. "beyond here also. it vas called dornenfelder." a lush forest thick with riches; he remembered little of it, for it had only been after leaving his natal pack that he had met marigold, and began a brief chapter with her. "vhat do you think of sviftcurrent so far?" the musiker inquired further, enjoying their talk so long as it strayed from deeper detailing.
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[size=11.6667px]A foreign name much like his own, Issy nodded thinking it suited him. 

"It seems...quiet. I like that," she admitted softly. "It's easy to think out here in the forest, peaceful even." She'd not experienced peace in some time but the stroll along the stream with Mauler seemed the epitome of it. 

"Have you lived here long?" She asked of him then, politely keeping their conversation superficial. [/size]
"A sad soul can kill quicker, far quicker than a germ."
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a shake of his muzzle. "not long." long enough to see changes he did not wish; long enough to stop hearing music and instead grow haunted by the spectres of wolves he had known, and the crash of the sea. suddenly uncomfortable, the man lashed his tail and paused. "i vill leave you for now, issy." mahler's eyes were not without something akin to warmth as he turned them upon her. "i hope you vill enjoy your time here."
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"Thank you," she murmured as he departed, seemingly not so fearsome after all. 

Issy continued to patrolling, feeling that she might just find a home in these woods. The wolves here seemed nice enough, on the surface at least.
"A sad soul can kill quicker, far quicker than a germ."