Bramblepoint circinus

for @Qiao !! whenever <3 >:D

pauk hadn't meant to go so far.
it was meant to be an amateur hunting trip. he'd followed the snowmelt that trickled from moonspear's edge all the way down into the valley, chasing the scent of a beaver; and by the time he realized how far he was from home, he felt it too late to turn back now. his eyes were peeled for any sign of a lodge, perhaps branches strewn about.
but the woods are thick, and he is growing more and more disoriented and exhausted. every tree looks the same. the humidity is unbearable.
calm and collected as he was, he turns his attention toward finding a place to shut his eyes; only for a bit, and then he'd head home. he just needed the strength — his little legs could not possibly carry him all the way back up the mountain like this.
he is concealed — or so he thinks — by a tall berry bush as he drifts into a content slumber.

though they often flew by the cover of moon, qiao had taken tonight to rest and restock her thinning wares. she left the boys under stormchaser’s watch, striking out into bramblepoint. 

she stuffed her ragged deerskin with tendrils of fiddleheads and the wilting leaves of gaultheria. her eye looked for any steeping plant she could, favoring their sedative abilities for the growing pups. 

it was the breathing of another that drew qiao in. she paused from foraging and scented the air, needle nose pointing to the sleeping child in the bush. 

the crone set aside her satchel none-too-softly, attempting to rouse the child without contact.

it worked.
the boy stirs, eyes opening with a slow blink, squinting to adjust to the darkness. groggy, he does not fully register what goes on around him; there is a rather aggressive floral scent that was not there before, and another earthen one that is not quite wolven.
his jaws split in a yawn, tongue unfurling in an almost serpentine manner — and that is when he notices the pair of eyes that look upon him, glowing and uncanny.
he freezes like a deer staring into headlights as a strange feeling of impending doom begins to thud in his ears.

child, there is no reason to be afraid. qiao scolded in the earthy tones of a crone-mother, setting the rest of her herbs to the side. 

she passed an olive eye over him discretely. he was well kept, his sides just round enough to signify he was consistently fed. his absence would be noted by such involved caretakers. yet, still..

the overworld was always hungry for more tophet-blood. 

resting on her haunch in a disarming motion, qiao looked to the skies above and then back to the huddled child. your parents must be worried sick for you. would you like me to walk you home in the morning?

with moonspear being the place that it was, pauk did not necessarily have a sense of stranger danger. he blinks up at the coywoman as if she had magically dispelled all of his concern, and now that he sees her more clearly, he thinks to himself: how bad could she be? she was just a little coyote.
but he wasn't exactly out to make friends, either. his expression remains rather blank and unsatisfied. oh, he murmurs, little black nose twitching. okay.
my name's pauk, he says abruptly, because presumably that was what one was meant to do when meeting a stranger. a totally nice, friendly stranger. who're you?

the boy was not so sure, but that was okay. qiao had won over her fair share of reservations. 

qiao ilha. the priestess introduced herself, beginning to braid the bundle of lattice-work herbs at her feet. 

she was silent for a while as she worked, contemplating. the overworld always asked for more — but this boy’s pelt was a tapestry of woven scents. he would be missed if absent too long. 

there was also the unpleasant truth if she took him, she may be hunted — three puppies usher was more than two. 

still; the overworld was greedy, and qiao even greedier still. 

she set aside the bundle. are you hungry?

shhhhhh-aaaoww, the boy parrots, his eyes squinting as he tries to form the syllables. you have a funny name. and it was funny, with this being his first exposure to a foreigner not of the mountain or its sister-villages. did all strangers' names sound like this?
his eyes follow her paws and her teeth, watching hawk-like as she works the plant matter into... something. maybe she was a healer, like anânsiak, because why else would she be making funky plant crafts?
sure, he mumbles when the silence is broken by her question. he wasn't hungry, really, but he wanted to be polite. the warm, watchful eyes linger upon the bundle of weird looking ferns. what're we gunna eat?

she did not find her name funny, but masterfully disguised the disapproval she felt. the world had changed since she was born — and it was likely those speaking her language had died long before this child was ever born. 

she sniffed the air. that depends, master pauk. what are you hunting for us? 

her mein was pleasant enough, yet she lingered like a spider’s shadow waiting to cast its expert net.

but i can't hunt, he interjects, a puzzled look morphing his features. that's why i came out here, n' i didn't find anything. come to think of it, he'd nearly forgotten that was the origin to this adventure — and he hadn't eaten since last night, so why wasn't he hungry?
i was trying to find a bea-- b-- bieber, he stifles a yawn with a raise of his paw to his mouth. i think it got away. i don't really know how to hunt biebers. i was just bored. n' lonely. n' i smelled the bieber and then it ran off.

in perfectly practiced patience, qiao smiled. oh, but anyone can hunt. she swept away on thin limbs. 

a beaver, huh? she called behind her as her nose lowered to the earth, drinking the musty smells of this dark realm. that is a tenacious catch for a young man. 

the scent of mouse, sweet yet pungent with ammonia, rose around her. qiao began to still, ears listening for the scrape of their little feet under the earth.