Grouse Thicket Smile costs nothing

@Percival 

The sudden cold-wave that had hit the wilds, had forced Wraen to leave the hollow she usually shared with her sister and move in with the other Firebirds at the nest. Though it was a little difficult to find a comfortable corner with enough private space in the communal den, the warmth of many wolves that also slept there made it a small price to pay compared to the gains. 

One frozen crow she had found during her morning round in the copse had inspired Wraen to check out the second nearest place, where larger birds, called grouse, were known to dwell. She was realistic enough not to expect an ice-glazed flock just waiting for her to pick them up one by one. On her arrival she was lucky to find some scattered feathers and fresh droppings and set out to follow the trail and see, how the birds were faring.

His body ached much more than he'd anticipated, did Buffalo really injure him that much? It certainly didn't seem so at the time, perhaps this winter made him grow even weaker. Still, it seemed pain bundled in areas he didn't recall even being bruised during their spar. Certainly, the mountain of a wolf was careful with the yearling too... it just didn't add up.  

His mind was taken off his pains once he noticed a dark figure lingering not too far away. Another spar mate? No, not in this condition. The fellow sauntered over slowly, his eyes spotting the frosted black feathers around the two of them.  The boy managed to keep his space, he didn't need to cause any more trouble for himself right now. So, in an attempt to start a conversation he picked up one of the fallen feathers in his mouth and mumbled, "Perhaps the lady would fancy a feather in her fur?"  It was bolder than Atticus cared for, but after spending the wintry months alone he couldn't care enough to politely introduce himself with small talk. No, this was a lady and he was to be gentlemanly- even though it was truly his need for companionship, whether it only last an hour or not, that prompted his actions.

Unfortunately for Percival his attempt in being gentlemen-like and charming was not successful at impressing the lady in question. Wraen had met creeps before and was especially wary of any male wolf that was bulkier and stronger, and taller than her. Therefore she froze and met the other with fear-stricken eyes and bared teeth. She was pretty confident that, if the guy had anything in mind, her growl would not intimidate him in the least, but as long as the moment of surprise lasted, she looked quickly over her shoulder, assured that the coast was clear for an escape, and retreated few steps away from the guy. 

"Stay, where you are," she growled at him the second time for a good measure, if the message had not gone through his skull and had not reached his brain the first.

Her reaction was startling, he reversed a few steps back, ears flattening against his head and worry in his eyes. Perhaps his introduction was a bit too forward for her liking. The black feather stayed within his jaws as he gazed apologetically at the stranger. His social skills were rusty, but how foolish of him to approach her with such blunt actions?

His heart dropped, he truly didn't mean to cause such a problem, especially to someone who likely didn't deserve it. "S-sorry Miss, I uh, I don't mean any harm." His words were muffled by the feather. Atticus lowered his head to the ground and finally spit it out. "Forgive me for being so brash, I, uh, I should've known." The boy attempted to send her a smile, his head still laying low to the ground in an attempt to show his lack of intimidation.

Am I not a beast? Wraen thought to herself, as the stranger's confidence and bold approach melted like snow in sunlight, leaving a puddle of water with few pieces of coals, twigs and a carrot floating there. She took pity of him then, because he seemed to be very honest in his embarrassement. She shook her coat and directed a smile and a kind look at him. "Apology accepted," she said, canting her head to the side and now taking a more thorough look at him. "Who are you, tall-dark-stranger?"

Her shift in attitude was shocking, to say the least. He almost could've sworn that while blinking the growling, cautious she-wolf had run off and been replaced by a completely new, more welcoming one. However, their scents were the same and he knew such an idea was ridiculous. This "new" wolf was one he could get used too, all the tension in his shoulders released, no longer gripping onto his muscles with fear. Their kind look was returned with a similar one, however, it disappeared with the words tall dark stranger. Was that really what he looked like? He couldn't help but hold his head a little taller. With this newfound confidence, he attempted to mirror that of a courageous and knight-like wolf, giving a suggestive smirk and glancing down at her with salacious-intent. "I'm Atticus, and you?"

"Wraen the Terrrrible," Wraen replied, playfully drawing out the middle part of the title she had given herself and to a better effect, added a toothy grin. "I am the worst creature you are going to meet in these woods, so do not test me," she went on, though kept her looks innocent, friendly and the sly glint in her eyes indicated that she was pulling Atticus's leg and no real threat was implied.

"What are you doing here? Got lost or went on a life-changing adventure?" she asked.

He canted his head to the side at her quip, for a moment, however, he was contemplating the sincereness to her comments.  "I wouldn't think of it!" He declared, his voice mimicking that of a noble knight, for he pictured her as a lowly witch he had just encountered within a dark wood. 

Her question forced him to think because he wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps he was lost? But how was one to be lost from a home if there was no home, to begin with? Her second suggestion was more to his liking, it would be fun to envision him on some journey of enlightenment. However, how pathetic the journey would be if the protagonist knocked his head on some rock and awoke never to recall anything from his past? Not that he knew he knocked his head...  "Everything's rather aimless right now."  He admitted, shrugging slightly. 

The musk of a pack radiated from her fur. "What about you? Running from home?"

"No. Though in my case it would be the home running from me not the other way round," Wraen replied, obviously enjoying the role of being the terrible witch and was getting very comfortable in the pitch-black mantle. She only missed a broomstick and a wart on her nose, in order to have the perfect image.

"Well, I suggest you to be careful - there are quite a few packs around here. Not just the Firebirds nest over there," she gestured in the general direction of Sun Mote Copse. "There are Redhawks up North and a newly formed pack that I do not know the name of," she added. "Though terrible I am, I might say that my birds are by far the most peaceful ones."

They continued their friendly banter for a while longer and then parted as good friends.