Twisted Slough An isle of flightless birds

Have you ever seen a slough before? Ty hadn't until this morning. It didn't look very different from the rest of the marshland that the Redhawks called home; a little wetter, a little colder, but smelling strongly like that familiar bird-smell. The slough had recently become the home of a flock of snow geese — they had chosen this location out of all the Wilds.

Tywyll had heard their honking that night as they flew overhead and, being both curious and easily distracted, could not sleep a wink until he knew where they were going. It was still dark out when he came upon the slough; the birds covered almost every inch with their stark white bodies, honking and humming at one another in the dark. The boy couldn't pull his attention away. The sun hadn't even come up yet - someone was probably missing him - but Tywyll wasn't thinking about that.

He winced at the feeling of the cold and damp soil, slinking along through the dark mist. He spied upon the birds for a while and then, bursting with eager energy, went racing in to the horde. The birds reacted as one might expect — a moment passed of sleepy confusion but then it was all-out chaos as they opened their wings and fled for safety. Ty could be heard cackling as he gave chase, no longer worried about the nasty feeling of the slough as he terrorized the flock.

erzulie roved inland. rosalyn's careful words were upon her ears: a place to winter. while the harlot was far too proud and self-assured of their ability to conquer the winter alone, she was no fool. a pack might be necessary if the snows grew harsh, much as she hated to admit it. 
it was the stench that drew the delicate-boned creature, enough to wrinkle her nostrils and slow her steps. yet she moved closer all the same. the sudden shrill honking of geese exploded into the atmosphere. she jumped, lifting her muzzle as the sky filled with a large flock of frightened fowl.
a boyish spate of cackling came into earshot now, and erzulie narrowed her mintglow gaze at the lanky figure streaking after the flushed geese, laughing as he went. and yet the sight warmed her somehow; she settled to watch, some fondness of expression wreathing her features.

Most of the birds got out of the way quickly, and when a couple started to take flight the rest attempted — many of which didn't know which way held danger. So most of the fluttering, squalling, and chaos was contained to the geese stuck in a terrestrial half-sleep. They blundered in to one another with wings halfway ready, or thwacked one another (and the bludgeoning boy) with their kite-like wings outstretched. He didn't think to be more aggressive with them. Running through the thick of it caused enough of an uproar to appease Tywyll, until the majority of the flock had taken to the air or escaped to a safe distance, where they would touch down. He was left standing in the middle of the slough, sopping wet and smelling distinctly like the fresh droppings of all those fowl.

Ignorant to his company, Tywyll was huffing and puffing and trying to find another avenue of attack (pirouetting and watching as the geese plopped down in the muck nearby), and it was during this hasty observation that he spotted the stranger. They didn't seem keen on hiding themselves; if anything, they were watching the show and (he assumed) judging his form. The boy breathed sharply out of his nose to clear the passage of gunk (ew) and then sniffled, the cold making his snout drip just a little. The attention of another wolf wasn't the most important thing to the antisocial Blackthorn, but his attention span was limited and without the geese to play with, the stranger would do for some entertainment. He chose to approach. His strides were far from bold; in fact, the November air was a blustery sort, and he looked like he was ready to  be blown over just like the geese.

The boy yipped a hello, and stopped in his tracks. Mum and Dad would probably be pretty happy to see at least one of their kids didn't run headlong in to potential danger (just geese).

she had not expected him to approach, but he did so, all legs and careful steps against the lash of the wind. friendly enough; the harlot rose and gave a visible sway of her tail before she too picked a cautious path toward the boy. he was dark ash and ebony; even this far she could note the keen burnished hue of his bright eyes.
and now she was within earshot of any words he might speak; the woman fixed her two-toned eyes upon him. he reminded her of jarilo, the boy from the mountain who had once escorted her through exploration of the night. but where that one had been wary, this one was younger, more open in his expression.
a smile curved her lips momentarily. "hello."

He couldn't keep it up for long but it didn't matter, Tywyll didn't anticipate that he'd catch anything. He was mostly chasing the geese for the fun of the ensuing chaos. His snapping teeth barely touched their gossamer feathers although the younger birds seemed quite terrified - it thrilled him, all of it. If he could make everyone run like hell (not just these stupid birds) he imagined it would feel very, very good. Tywyll wasn't a sociopath but the thought was a little bit psychotic, not that the youth noticed. He pictured all the other kids running from him and squalling like these stupid birds and felt tremendously powerfuly — then, the stranger watching him spoke. Her voice was so different from the sound of the geese as well as his heavy breathing, his thrumming pulse, that it was easy to detect.

His ears pivoted first, then his head swiveled as he looked for her. She was - well, kind of pretty, but very different from what he was used to. The blonde tones of her coat reminded him of Niamh but she had darker points, and so far Tywyll didn't know anyone composed quite like that. Maybe it was the distance, or maybe it was his own immaturity, but Tywyll couldn't tell her age - not that it was important. He sauntered closer, stopping a wolf-length away or so, and after a second he blurted, Whaddup. Where'd you come from? Was she here for the birds? You don't wanna eat these things, do ya? They smell like garbage. His face scrunched at the mention of their many disgusting qualities, nose-blind to the fact he smelled just like the ground they'd been squatting on for however long.

the boy spoke, and erzulie was jarred. how long had it been since she had been so open? but in truth, she had never been; initiated into the trade when she was younger than this one appeared to be, the harlot had since led a life that had only made her wary. but perhaps — perhaps this day she could find it within her to be trusting.
"da sea, dat way," the honeycream wolfess murmured, gesturing with her slim muzzle toward the distant shoreline. they could not go back without ironsea, not even if the bear had gone; two of them alone would not survive the lash of winter ice. turning back, she regarded the boy warmly. "what about you?"
her teeth shone in a brief grin. "i enjoyed watching you chase dese smelly birds," erzulie went on, "even if dey did not like it."

The chaos of the birds gradually ebbed, because most of the younger birds in the flock had been so spooked that they wouldn't return to this location for at least a few nights; the older birds could recognize when the wolf wasn't truly hunting so they settled pretty quickly, and with the boy's attention divided - well, everything got pretty calm pretty quickly.

He was most interested in the stranger's odd way of speaking; her inflection was wrong, and for a moment Tywyll was too dumbfounded to comprehend what she was slurring, and then she smiled and -- and he thought he heard her compliment him. It took a second, but he understood and smiled back at her.

It was fun! I could chase them s'more — maybe you could help me get 'em? But I dunno if they'd taste very good. They smell pretty bad and I really just wanna chase 'em till they shut the heck up! His tail wagged triumphantly as he so vocally admitted this, and in the back of his mind Tywyll wondered if she'd notice that he'd cussed. 

He came back to the conversation and realized she'd asked him something else, and after a few seconds of blinking at her he proudly proclaimed: I'm a Redhawk! Well, no, I'm, well, a Blackthorn, but -- okay, I live on the plateau. Its... That way, I think? He motions haphazardly but he's been turned around a few times from the goose chasing, and it makes little sense.

erzulie glanced beyond him toward the birds, gathering herself to her small paws. "i would not be against helping you, redhawk or blackthorn." she was not sure where the plateau was, nor if she wished to know, but the boy before her was a kind sort, a good example of a pleasant child. "i be erzulie," the harlot offered, tail flagging at her heels.
"dey do smell," she agreed, smirking at the young wolf, "but dey might be good eating all de same." there was but one way to discover such things. she had noticed his use of the word 'heck,' and was amused by it, but saw no reason to comment, not with a task at hand. "you seem more skilled den me. how should we chase dese birds to'gedah?" her mismatched gaze drifted between their feathered quarries and the boy; erzilie found herself intrigued by both.

Erzulie? That was a weird name. He almost said as much — opened his mouth, prepared to engage his tongue, when he heard her agreeing with him and then, of all things, explaining that she was willing to chase them too. That was something he hadn't expected. Adults didn't usually want to play his kinds of games, and Tywyll had become used to his parents curtailing his rambunctious behavior (or trying to). Her question made him pause everything and sort-of glance around, like she might be asking someone else to formulate a plan - but he was the only one here. Um.

Uh, um, okay! I guess you can play too, he didn't want to leave her out if she wanted to help, but he didn't really have a tactical mind. No such thing had been taught to him yet, but maybe this would start Tywyll's next character arc (which he was sorely in need of). He looked away from his new friend Erzulie for a few seconds, trying to determine how to best chase the birds - and well, if he was the expert here, what could he teach her? Thus began a very drawn out thought process with many interruptions; the birds were calm again at this point, some even waddling closer as they grazed on bits of grass.

Then, a bulb went off above his head. I know! I could um, I could go around them, and chase them the other way -- you know? Like, towards you, he motioned with a paw as if he were drawing a diagram in the air and said, and when they get close enough, you can grab one! Or two! I bet you could grab 'em all.

he certainly had a wonderful view of her skills — it provoked a chuckle from erzulie, and she nodded, agreeing with his strategy. "i will stay ovah deah, low to de groun', an' wait for you to drive dem dis way." truth be told, it had been some time since she had romped like a child, and she was looking forward to snapping at the foolish birds, even if she did not land a kill.
nodding at the boy, the harlot stalked off in the direction she had indicated, smiling a bit to herself. it was not far from her current position, just more cunningly angled for the process that the boy had outlined. it was belatedly she realized she had not gotten the young redhawk's name in return, but for the moment, their play held her attention more than whatever title he moved beneath.

She agreed to the plan and began stalking off in search of a hiding place, leaving Tywyll to figure out the rest; it was the first time he'd ever directed an adult and had them obey his instruction, and it left him gap-mawed for a moment. When he finally got to moving, he had a bit more pep to his step and a giddiness to his romping — but he headed towards the birds, which waddled out of his way hastily. He was slinking and showed no obvious signs of interest in them, so they became complacent while he waded through. When Tywyll suddenly sprang back and snapped at a few snow geese, the birds were so startled that they didn't do anything at first - but then he was racing about, snapping and herding them, and they rose in a cacophonous wave to escape.

she thought his tactic good for one so young; the birds foolishly paid no mind until he was among them again, his boyish snaps driving the fowl toward her. as they took to the air, erzulie darted forth, powerful hindlegs lifting her catlike in the air while her own teeth closed around the flapping wing of one avian.
the boy was correct; the things did reek, but it did not deter erzulie. breaking its neck with a savage snap of her jaws, she lunged another time, this one fruitless, but a third strike downed a second bird, and she laughed aloud. "good!"