Neverwinter Forest kettle drum roll hard

@Magpie

It was mid-morning and Atreyu found himself once again exploring beyond the borders of Stavanger Bay. Not that there was anything wrong with that, of course, but he had told himself to stick closer this time, to not wander off too far lest he gets lost again. No, you know where you are this time, he reminded himself, shouldering his way through the dense underbrush. He paused to touch his nose against the leaves, curiously still green despite the fact that winter had nearly torn all semblance of colour away from most other forests.

Mist hung low to the ground, giving the dark forest an eerie vibe which was not helped by the rustling of bushes as various prey skittered around just out of sight. The boy ignored them, though, too caught up in mentally mapping the woodland as he wandered. He swore he had been here before, though perhaps that was because most forests looked the same to him. Stopping again in his tracks, the pale wolf brushed the side of his rear up against the rough bark of a tree, softly grunting as he scratched an itch there.

It was a new day, and still Magpie avoided the reckoning that likely awaited her in Redhawk Caldera. She felt paralyzed— she felt sick at the thought of returning there, and sick at the thought of returning to the Corvidae without accomplishing what she had struck out to do. Somehow, Fox and Peregrine felt like family to the yearling. And though her time with Peregrine in particular had been brief, he felt like the father figure Magpie never had. But they were more traditional than the Corvidae, which the dark female assumed also meant less forgiving. She knew the longer she put it off, the angrier they were likely to be— but it was that same anger that made her question whether she should continue on this mission at all.

She wandered through the great pine forest, inhaling the fresh scent that hung in the cold air. Here, at least, it didn't feel quite so depressingly winterish. It was surprising that no pack currently claimed the territory; it seemed like a protected fortress, likely to be as cool in the summer as it was warm in the winter. There were signs that it had been inhabited previously, however— and it was as she was investigating an abandoned den (in case of treasures, of course) that the soft sound of grunting caught her attention nearby.

Exiting the den— there were no treasures of note, anyway— Magpie tracked the source of the sounds to a male wolf rubbing his ass against one of the pines. Her brows rose, green eyes definitely judging, though she made no remark. He could be scratching an itch, or he could be scratching an "itch"... but either way, he looked like a fool, and for some reason the yearling wanted him to know it.

Satisfied, Atreyu pulled away from the tree, wondering if he ever needed to actually scratch himself with his teeth again. Rubbing yourself up against trees and rocks was much more effective — also killed two birds with one stone if you were marking borders. Realising he was staring at the tree he had just scratched his rear on, the boy then shook out his ruff before turning to continue on his exploring. However, he froze on the spot as he was met with the sight of a dark female with curious white markings and a disproving gaze. He stared back at her for a moment, feeling the tips of his ears burn as he suddenly became self-conscious.

"What?" he barked in an attempt to sound indifferent to her being there, though the break in his voice betrayed him. It wasn't even as if it was unusual to scratch yourself on a tree — bears did it all the time — though he wished a stranger (much less a girl) hadn't just seen him do it. Atreyu shrugged, taking a few more steps away from the tree. "I was itchy." He paused before quickly adding, "I don't have fleas."

She kept her disproving expression for as long as she could, but it broke when the male's voice did— a giggle escaped her, and Magpie made no effort to stifle it. She was a Corvidae; they felt wholy and honestly, and though she meant no cruelty or harm in it, the small laugh might very well be taken that way. He shrugged, continuing to speak— and the next words did give Magpie pause, raising her brows at him, breaking back into laughter as he insisted he had no fleas. "You're funny," she told him matter-of-factly, the smile still in her voice. "Did you sit in some poison ivy? There's probably an herb that can help with that," Magpie offered, then.

It was winter, true, but it was warmer than she had been told to expect— even with a few frosts and some snow, it was likely poison ivy was still accessible somewhere, and other herbs with it.

Her giggle caused his ear tips to burn even more, his brows lowering as he fought against the urge to turn to stare at the ground. She was probably laughing at him, but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of appearing meek. Instead, he raised his chin, attempting to feign a look of indifference to her amused reaction. He thought about just striding past her and continuing his journey (as aimless as it was). He wasn't about to be made fun of anymore by this girl. Her suggestion, though, caused his ears to swivel backwards in offense.

"I didn't sit in poison ivy," he shot back defensively — perhaps overly so. Did he really look dumb enough that he would choose such a spot to sit in? He was actually quite proud that he had yet to encounter the sting from ivy... though, wasps nests, on the other hand..."So I don't need some nerd's help." Her mention of a herb implied that she was some sort of healer and, to Atreyu, they were usually the geeks of the wolf world.

I'd like this to hit "complete" status, so feel free to stop her! I know it's old, though, so if you'd rather wrap up, that's also fine. :)

Magpie choked back the sound of her laughter as the male struggled to look like it wasn't bothering him, which only made the situation more hilarious to her— she hadn't been laughing at him before, not really, but she was certainly headed in that direction. When he reacted to her words with insult, however, the yearling regained her composure and frowned. Well, that was certainly rude of him. "Hey, if you don't want my help, that's fine. Free will and all that. When the sting crawls up your anus, though— well, I warned you." She paused, "But maybe it's already there, and that's your problem."

Her white-dappled shoulders went up in a shrug, and she began to resume her walk through the trees. She had genuinely wanted to help, but she wasn't about to waste time on some imbecile that didn't know generosity when he saw it. Such things were in limited supply, and she'd give it to the deserving.

Tacking on an ending <3

At his insult, the female's attitude suddenly seemed to do a 180. Her scowl and lengthy retort made him chuckle inwardly, his former embarrassment vanishing into the air. What was the big problem? He had simply called her a nerd; if anything it was a compliment! Didn't girls like being called smart? The other yearling then continued onwards, and Atreyu let her walk a good distance away before calling with a grin, "Yo, you sure you didn't in some poison ivy?"

He then spun on his heel and quickly retreated, baffled but amused by the girl's antics.