Hushed Willows Beneath the Bowed Head of Mother Willow

Amalia trotted amongst the high tall trees with their long tendrils of green hair. She would occasionally brush against one, enjoying the tickle along her face and back. it was like a touch of a loved one. She missed her family, not sure where they were, but for now she was content to wander. Just because she missed them, didn't necessarily mean she needed to be with them. She was a wanderer always had been.

Her belly was full with the meal she had just eaten, the rabbit one of her favorite meals. Now she was happy to just run, and lope and possibly nap. She nosed among the willows, sniffing out the numerous animals that made their homes there, but she didn't strike, just observed.

Finally, with a gentle ache in her paws, she settled beneath one of the willows and curled her tail about her paws. A soft sigh rose up from her chest as she shifted to her paws sphynx like, her green eyes caressing the tall trees in front of her. It was otherworldly where she sat. The tendrils of green swaying atop her head, the nearby rush of a water source. Peaceful, yes peaceful. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth in gentle pants as she relaxed.

not far from the wolf, a buzzing of flies.

maggots and their parents, feasting on a dead marten.

he was there, pecking out choice bits of aged meat.

Amalia heard something nearby and looked around with a yawn. She stood up on tired limbs, and nosed towards a buzzing noise. As she neared it, a Raven caught her eye, as it ate a marten.

She didn't move, didn't want to scare it away, but was curious all the same. SHe hadn't actually ever been this close to a bird without eating it.

the bits with maggots embedded within were the best, an explosion of flavour.

he almost didn't spot the wolf, and when he did he was startled, flapping wings.

this marten was too old a meal for a hunter, he was certain. therefore, it'd be wisest to assume the wolf was there to hunt him.

windfather knew their kind didn't know to appreciate the sleek juiciness of flychildren.

the raven was wary.

Amalia saw the squirming worms and realized what the raven was doing. She settled to her haunches, more curious than hungry. She warred between saying anything, or just keeping her mouth shut. Finally her curiosity won out.

Hello. She wasn't even sure if birds could understand her.

a greeting sound, made with the rough grumble of its kind.

he understood, and was confused.

without much thinking, he mimed it back; "hello?" repeated in the heavily distorted cadence of the wolf's voice, similar to it the way a gnat was to a butterfly.

it was meant to be a way to put doubtful emphasis on what was said to him, but the raven doubted this creature understood the nuances of corvid communications.

(for some reason, yonder felt bashful.)

Amalia wrinkled her nose. He mimicked it back, but she wasn't sure if he understood or if he was asking a question? Was it even a he?. She wasn't certain, was there some sort of proper etiquette for these things, she sure as pups didn't know.

Um Yes Hello. Do you understand me? She was a little confused, and a little honestly if she was honest hopeful. She wanted to be able to talk to someone other than a wolf, liked the thought of a birdy friend.

"no." the raven said, without thinking.

then half a second after realised what he did, and shut his eyes with a croaked groan.
 
dumb little fledgling.

Amalia choked on a chuckle. Clearly this wily creature was smarter than she had given him credit for. She blinked at him, a small smile on her face, her eyes twinkling. You can too you smart alecky little thing you.

She settled to her rear curling her tail around her paws. She tilted her head. I'm Amalia.

if mistrust were a knife, it would've stabbed the wolf in the gut.

his shaggy feathers ruffled further, wings unfurled; weak attempt at being intimidating. he liked neither the hunter's tone, nor its glossy mossy eyes - the pupils were too stark against the iris.

he flapped his wings, looking to fly, when the mammal offered a name.

yonder stilled, turned. his mandible went slack. he looked at the wolf as if it'd spoken in crisp corvitch to him. 

did it not understand the value of names??

now he was saddled with its, this "amalia" word, and every bit of custom held so dearly to his gizzard pushed him to act a lawful man.

"thirteen." he croaked back. alias for what he could still assure himself was likewise an alias.

and then it would've been just awkward not to talk.

"what is wrong with you??"

Amalia was as equally unsure about this meeting, but she was also extremely curious and perhaps a bit naive, too trusting. But that would be a different hurdle to tackle.

Clearly this creature wasn't pleased. She hadnt asked him to stay, had only offered her name and not even her whole name.

She blinked at him. Nothing. I'm merely curious and not hungry.

"yes but-" another croak-groan, this one at least directed outward. "you're a hunter. i'm a scavenger. this-" wings geatured at the marten casually decomposing as they, contrary to both nature and reason, conversed. "-is maggot-meat. rotten. my domain. you've no reason to be here, and even if this marten died a minute ago, you'd have no reason to talk to me."

wings clasped together, fledgling eyes went wide and the raven looked at the wolf expecting a throughout answer.

Amalia smiled slightly amused at this creature. I know what I am Thirteen. I am also aware of what you are. I see nothing wrong with casually conversing

Why shouldn't we converse? We are useful to each other, no? So why couldn't we share words too? Amalia met his gaze the same. She liked this smart alec bird. And she got slight amusement from his disgruntled image, but she truly didn't understand. She talked to coyotes, sometimes foxes, other wolves. Dogs.

the world had been turned upside down, and this animal looked amused.

"it's just not right." he said. "do you talk to the fawns you hunt as well? maybe the rabbits, too? and don't tell me you've never had bird."

he felt as if explaining things to a hatchling. "just because your kind's useful to mine doesn't mean we should be chit-chatting like pals! voles are useful to both of us, yet we don't debate the weather with them, hm?" 

although, for all the raven known as thirteen knew, this amalia often discussed treetop politics with squirrels.

Amalia hadn't meant to cause such a stir, truly. She just wanted to see if she could talk to the bird. If they spoke the same language or if they were different. She usually didn't eat birds, didn't like all the feathers. And Squirrels sometimes they came out after being chased. Birds just flew away.

Amalia lifted a fore leg and nodded. And I'm sure you feasted on a wolf carcass or two now didn't you?

Amalia wasn't stupid she knew that this wasn't the normal way of things, but as she had already told this bird, she was curious. And he was still yammering about how wrong it was. I have heard of other wolves who spoke with birds. I am not the only one. And for your information. I don't make it a habit to eat birds.

his head leaned back. very far back.

alright. touché.

"w-well i don't make it a habit to eat wolves." he made a disgusted face. "eugh. tastes too much like boar, but... waxy? very little fat too, extremely salty and good windfather the hair --" the raven realised who he was having this conversation with.

"n-not- not that all of you taste like that. some of you taste good." wait was that more offensive?

"bad."

"
Amalia watched his head move. These creatures were boneless she swore.

Lucky for Thirteen she found him amusing. She chuckled. I'm not a fan of boar myself. As you said, too waxy fatty. And the hair sticks in my throat. Wirey, yucky.


Amalia smiled again though she tried not to show her fangs too much. She imagined it would make her new bird acquaintance uncomfortable.

"oh." it seemed he hadn't offended. or perhaps it had failed to be offended.

no! bad thinking! this sort of thought would have that sibling pestering him to the ground. the raven shook his head.

"you--... don't you have an unkindness to get back to?" he looked sharply at the wolf. "you know, the people you can talk... wolf... stuff... with?"

Amalia stood slowly and dipped her head. I do have others to talk wolf things with. She chuckled and tilted her head peering at him.

You ever want to talk to a wolf again, Thirteen. Look me up, yea. Amlia dipped her head again.

Thank you for the conversation.

he sort of wasn't expecting to be rid of it that easy. all the same, he felt a stone fall off his heart. even managing a tired corvid-smile as the wolf spoke.

"you've my name, and i yours." it was a kind of goodbye he wasn't expected to say to a wolf. how many of his kind had the... was this even a pleasure? more of a... complication... to have exchanged names with a hunting mammal.

amalia.

huh. how much was a wolf's name worth?