The Floodlands awara hoon

onward, aditya.

a voice in his subconscious—or was it hari himself?—spurred him ahead. he descended from mount everfall into the sodden wetlands, stepping carefully through the mosquito-infested place in search of higher ground. it was miserable, here; hot weather and summer rain had created a buggy nightmare.

for a moment, he wondered if it was better to submerge himself in the muddy water as pharaoh had done to keep away the biting pests. he sniffed the fetid water and thought better of it, and soon found himself traipsing a more pleasant and established river.

a river—and there were fish!

it had been a while since aditya had tried his paw at fishing, but he sat on the bank and watched the shallows studiously, waiting for one of them to wander too close to his muzzle. a moment. . .then a moment more. . .

he shoved his head beneath the water, hoping for luck.

No, no, no, Cabhrach, no, this isn’t what I want. Nor what I need, shrike!

The answering chatter of the shrike made Sabdh clench their jaw, glaring at the bird sitting on their nose. They narrowed their eyes at the bird, tail bunching up at their back.

Aye, bird! Now, g’rrof! They threw their head back, sending the bird skyward with a shrill whistle and then aggressive notes as the shrike instead spun to land on their shoulder. Ever since they’d left the Druids, nobody listened to them.

They plucked a bit of lavender out of their tail with a gruff noise, the shrike hopping from their shoulder to their head, then flying away. About damn time. Sadbh began to inch forward again, sticking to the riverbank as they moved with slow purpose, giving a flick curl of their tail with every step, making sure the herbs they’d stuck into the thick fur stayed. Thankfully, they did stay, and Sadbh could continue picking their way carefully down the river.

A flash of non-nature caught their eye and brought it up from their feet to a wolf across the way, in front of them. Sadbh slowed down to watch the head of said other wolf disappear below the water, raising an eyebrow quizzically. Aye, they knew the motions of a man in search of a slimy meal, but it never did stop being mildly alarming.

drat! nothing.

he came up empty-jawed and a little tetchy, shaking his head to clear the water. a sudden voice assaulted his ears, and he whipped 'round, looking. his eyes were irritated but not unfriendly, and soon landed upon a dainty young wolf, colored in grays and blues almost the tinge of a summer sky.

aditya dipped his muzzle in greeting, smiling sardonically, his chin still dripping. what brings you here? he asked, gesturing faintly around him—them—at the saturated ground and biting bugs.

it'd been a while since he'd seen another wolf.