Swiftcurrent Creek Now how can he smile

for @Mae and/or anyone around SC!

Despite his best (worst) efforts, Hirundo was getting very hungry.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a nice elk haunch. Or a fat, silvery trout belly. (He pretended he didn’t remember). Maybe he’d never had such things. Or maybe it was all some terrible nightmare, and he would awake from it and everything would be fine and normal.

He opened his eyes, and everything remained the same.

With a sigh, he dragged himself to his feet and kept walking through the woodlands. He snapped up a pretty flower in his jaws, only to be reminded of his gnawing stomach by the stem’s bitter taste. He dropped it and shook his head.

His paws brought him to the edge of the forest. A dark, languid river snaked through the rock. Its surface seemed still and silent—but now and then he thought he saw a splash. His mouth immediately began to water.

Hirundo went to sit by the water’s edge, nose pressed close to the glassy surface. He nipped at a shadow and caught only water on his tongue. There were more, though, silvery bodies just out of his jaws’ reach. If he just jumped in…

Some tiny part of him whispered that it wasn’t such a good idea. Even so, he began to lean forwards. He tentatively dipped one paw in, only to yank it back out at the sudden cold.

There was a fool in her river. Or near it anyway, and that was bad enough. Hey! You nose-blind or somethin'? Mae called out as she beelined toward the scent and sound of the intrusive presence. She stopped perhaps a dozen feet away, tail a high banner at her back, fur bristling just a little.

A fool in her river, and no one to help her chase him out. Just her luck.

The sound of a shout made Hirundo freeze up, paw hovering over the water. Now that he thought about it, there had been scent-markers around. He did not feel afraid, even if his heart abruptly began to hammer in his chest. He couldn't feel or do anything at all, even though he really should.

After a second, he jerked back from the river on instinct. Body held low to the ground in submission, he turned around to face the creek's rightful claimant. She was covered in scars, he noted at once, so much that he wondered if she could actually see anything out of those clouded eyes. Sightless or not, he was certain of one thing: this wolf was more than capable of ending him if she chose it.

Ah, my apologies, miss. I was...just...well, hungry, Hirundo tried to explain. It sounded stupid even to his own ears, which drooped sadly. Fish has got a strong smell, you know, and I didn't notice... I can just leave and never come back.

feel free to chomp his ear or something if desired, he won't fight back sdkfjg

Hungry. Mae wasn't exactly here to feed the hungry; random charity had been her father's prerogative as leader, but frequently ill-advised, she thought. They'd stood once as guardians of the valley. Now, vanished into thin air. So what had generosity really brought them in the end?

Yet she'd been a lone, hungry wolf once; it was hard to forget that. Even now she was alone in some ways, always carrying the faint pangs of a never-quite-sated appetite. It was different, of course. This was different.

Regardless, she could afford to be nice this once. You can fish, I guess, Mae's voice was as stiff as the steps she took toward him. She found some sense of security in standing over the crouching figure, sniffing intently at his crown as if she might find something damning in the scents there. But I want some fish, too. It wasn't his fault he was stupid, but he would pay for it anyway — in fish, since he liked them so much.

As she moved towards him, Hirundo stayed very still. Perhaps, if he stayed still enough, she would forget he was there and move along. A foolish, ridiculous thought, but it gave him comfort nonetheless. Her breath on the top of his head brought to mind memories he didn't want to reflect on. Ivory gleaming in the night, teeth snapping inches from his neck—

He shut his eyes and waited for the worst. But he felt no pain. As she spoke, he warily cracked open one eye.

I can? Hirundo asked doubtfully. No, wait. He couldn't give her the chance to change her mind. I mean, yes, of course! Plenty of fish for you, miss.

Saying this, he put on his best smile. He would be fine. He just had to catch a fish for the scary lady, and she wouldn't eat him. Easy. Bolstered by new motivation, he returned to staring intently at the river. Staring. Sitting. Watching. Tragically, his resolve had not magically improved his skills.

Another silvery fin shimmered under the surface, and quick as a bird, Hirundo decided to dive for it. The fat, silvery fish thrashed about in his jaws! He held it tight as he could as it stilled. He'd done it! Only, Hirundo could no longer feel the bottom of the river under his paws, and the water was rising up around his neck even as he paddled. What had initially looked like a quiet, languid creek was tugging forcefully at his limbs.

He began to thrash wildly in a struggle to get back to the shore. He tried to call for help, only it came out as a muffled hrrrrghhh mgh around the trout still weakly flopping in his mouth.

Though she couldn't watch him, Mae tilted her ears toward the man and heard enough to get a decent mental picture. She hadn't expected him to dive into the water — but by the time she opened her mouth to tell him that his ideas were bad and he was bad, it was too late. The air turned to a cacophony of the sounds of his failure and subsequent struggle. Mae rolled her eyes and took a few confident steps toward the water, ready to haul him out.

Then she faltered, remembering the obvious problem. Right. Blind. Well... mostly. She could see enough of his movement, and the light flashing off the scales of the fish he held, to help a little.

Mae craned her neck to snatch the fish from his jaws, slamming it into the ground hard enough to stun the last of the fight out of it. The smell was almost enticing enough to forget about the idiot drowning in her river. Almost.

What, your ma didn't teach ya how to swim? Mae bit out as she lifted her head reluctantly. Much as she hated to admit it, there was nothing more she could do. Dude was on his own.

Hirundo whimpered as the cold water soaked into his coat. As much as he kicked and thrashed, it seemed to do little against the harsh tug of the current. He was not the brightest finch in the flock, so to speak, but Hirundo knew enough about water to know that this was very, very bad. He had heard stories of silent, deadly whirlpools swallowing up wolves like they were ants--

The fish was ripped from his jaws, and Hirundo nearly howled in despair. Fortunately, it was not lost! The scary lady had it, apparently. Help had arrived!

...Or not.

He struggled to gain purchase on the slippery shore with his clumsy paws. All he could do was struggle while she feasted on his fish. Probably. It was hard to see much of the shoreline with the water closing in on his ears.

I can swim just fine! he retorted, even as his eyes went wide with panic. Your river is evil!

In a desperate lunge for life, he managed to get half his body onto the river bank. He dug into the ground with his forepaws while his hindlimbs paddled furiously behind him.

Evil, huh? Mae snorted, but at the wet sound of him slapping against the river bank much like the fish had, she didn't hesitate. She darted forward to grip his scruff, grimacing at the taste of wet fur in her mouth, and gave a tug. She paused to adjust her angle, and the tug became a forceful wrenching that had a high likelihood of sending them both flying backward.

Mae lost her grip and went tumbling, cursing the whole way.

The scary lady came back! Dimly, in some small part of his small mind, it occurred to him that perhaps she simply couldn’t see him. Hirundo managed to get one hindleg onto a rock. Frantically, he tried to surge forwards at the same time as she pulled on his scruff. The larger wolf was sent tumbling over and past her. He landed face first in the grass.

Hirundo lay there for a few moments, shivering, until he collected himself enough to remember his saviour. She no longer seemed quite so scary to him. After all, she had saved him. He trotted back over to the cursing heap of black fur, sniffing at one forepaw. He hoped she hadn’t gotten hurt.

Are you alright? Hirundo asked worriedly.

I'm fine, Mae snapped back, snatching her paw away and lifting herself to shake the water out of her fur. You're a fuckin' idiot who's gonna get himself killed. She shook herself again, this time for the dirt and debris clinging to her. She could feel it.

There are places for a bath, and this ain't one of 'em, she lectured as she brushed more dirt from her fur. Ugh. How the hell do you get by without someone to watch you?

Hirundo shrank back, ears and tail drooping. His wet fur was chilly on his spine, but worse was the hot shame seeping into his chest now. She was correct, unfortunately.

The only reason he’d survived this long was luck. Luck, or the gods were toying with him. If the fates were fair and just, it would have been his mother standing here.

Not him.

For a moment, Hirundo just stared at his paws in silence. Then he shook himself off and looked back up at the stranger, smiling as if nothing was wrong at all.

Oh, it’s not so hard, Hirundo said lightly. Might I know the name of my protector?

Yet his voice turned serious once more, and he sank into a graceful bow. She might not be able to see the gesture, but for Hirundo, it was important to show respect anyways.

Sincerely, though, thank you.

Mae caught the little pause — but if she felt any guilt for it, she didn't let it show. Yeah, sure, whatever, she grumbled. I'm Mae. Frostfur-Mayfair. Her surname was added after a moment's hesitation. And who the hell are you?

She was beginning to settle down in spite of herself. Her bristling fur slowly began to lie flat, and she took to grooming some of the tangled fur at her chest and shoulders every few seconds. After a bit she remembered the fish, and started to sniff around in search of it.

A pleasure to meet you, Miss Frostfur-Mayfair, Hirundo said. The effect was significantly less smooth with his fur dripping pathetically from his tall narrow body. I am Hirundo. He left his name as it was.

(Once, he would have introduced himself as his mother’s son. But she was gone, and Hirundo could not bring himself to speak of her. Not here. Not now.)

On well-trained instinct, he followed Mae—the first woman of authority he knew of—with his tail wagging calmly behind him. It took him a minute to figure out what she was looking for, but he wordlessly nudged the fish in her direction once he did.

So…is this your family’s home? Hirundo continued, casting a suspicious glance at the evil river. Are you the, uh, priestess?

She didn’t exactly look like any vedunya he had known, but a scary river warranted a scary guardian, he supposed.

Hirundo. Weird ass name for a weird ass guy. Before Mae could say as much, though, Hirundo made a comment that halted her. She paused with nose still hovering over the fish he'd shoved her way, frowning for a moment as if displeased with the meal.

She lifted her head to fix sightless eyes in his direction. What makes you think that? Mae asked, careful to avoid confirming or denying it even in her tone. Though, if she'd had a choice in the matter, she would sooner have named herself witch. She'd heard about the fear a witch could strike in other wolves; deserved or not, such a reputation sounded useful.

The suspicion and caution with which she regarded him solidified the answer in Hirundo’s mind. He had heard of some vedunya who kept their work secret, especially to men, though others shared their knowledge equally. His mother had been the latter, but she had also told him that some things were not meant to be known or understood by men. Especially if it might reach the ears of non-believers.

No reason, Hirundo said quickly. Forget I asked. He would keep the river-witch’s secrets, lest she put some sort of hex on him. He turned away, pretending to be very interested in sniffing a rock.

Are there others here? he asked instead. The river-witch’s scent was unmistakable, but there were other markers he noticed (now that he was paying attention). Yet they seemed weaker, fading. He could not help but wonder.

Mae stiffened a little when he brushed her off, but dismissed it in the next moment. She was hungry anyway — and he wasn't asking for any part of the fish, so...

Sometimes, she answered a minute or two later, mouth still partially full of fish. She grimaced at the sting of a fish bone stuck in her teeth. Ugh. Why? You homeless or somethin'? This ain't a charity house, but if ya hunt better than ya fish, maybe I won't toss your clueless ass back in the river.

Which meant that Mae had decided to keep him around, though she herself hadn't known it until she said the words.

Go get me somethin' without scales. I hate fish.