Kettle Pot Pond the hearse ran out of gas

She kept her grip tight on the hopper giving Cyril a chance to get his own whiff of the creature that didn't smell appetizing at all. She supposed if she was super hungry she might consider gobbling the hopper down but with the scent of pond and whatever was in it entering her nose she could wait to eat until she got home. Cyril was also if the same opinion that it didn't smell good too. She answered the question if what they could do with it but that left them two options and she voiced her opinion. Cyril once again agreed with her in such a way that she knew they had come to a decision. “Then we agree,” she stated with a wag of her tail.

She laughed, “No, fun at all.” If they ate him then he wouldn't be there for them to catch later. Now that she knew how to catch them she could come back and do it anytime. There was only one thing to do so with a glance at Cyril Oksana opened her paws to give the hopper his freedom. It immediately hopped away from her and with a splash it disappeared into the water. “That was fun. Thank you Cyril for showing me how to catch them.”

The boy mirrored the wag of her tail with one of his own, a lazy grin etched across his dark features. Letting the hopper go was the only option, especially since they weren’t very appetizing. If they ate every hopper they caught there wouldn’t be any left and then the pond would be nothing but a boring circle of water. There would be no reason for him to return. His nose wrinkled as he waited for the little crow to release the creature from between her paws.

As soon as she moved her paws the hopper lunged forward, frantic and disorientated as it launched itself toward the water. His yellow orbs followed the blur of green as it disappeared beneath the smooth surface of the pond, seeking refuge from the two rambunctious cubs. Poor guy, he thought glumly to himself, his smile faltering. At least they didn’t eat him. No, they caught him and released him. Much better than gobbling up the long-legged creature.

His ears twitched as the girl spoke and he swung his head back in her direction, his goofy grin returning with a vengeance. “You bet’cha!” The dark river girl wasn’t terribly awful company. Much better than the silver-eyed Bug. “Y’wanna catch some more or did ya still wanna go see some of the lo’ands?” He really did not want to play tour guide but he couldn’t be mean all the time. Everly wouldn’t like it.

The smudge was certain they had made the right decision to let the hopper go. For one she didn't think it would taste very good at all but also they couldn't take the little green guy from the pond. Mostly catching the hopper was one thing but Oksana wasn't sure she knew how to make it so they could eat it. Cyril might know, he seemed to know more about them but her mother hadn't ever gotten that far in her lessons. The pup wasn't sure her mother would since she wouldn't come out if her den. With them letting the hopper go she could come back to the pond and catch him again later thanks to Cyril teaching her how.

She only hesitated a moment before moving her paws to give the hopper back his freedom. He took it immediately jumping into the pond and disappearing under the water. Oksana watched the place he had gone for another moment with her tail wagging before turning back to Cyril. Now that they had caught the hopper and let it go the smudge thanked the boy for helping her.

A smile greeted his grin as he spoke, she didn't know if she'd made a new friend but she would like to think she had. The question he asked her next brought her gaze to look out over the Lowlands as she considered her answer. “Catch couple more,” she said meeting his eyes with her own, “Save exploring for another day.” As much as she might want to do it all in one day what fun would that be?

The boy nearly breathed a sigh of relief as Oksana announced that she would like to continue catching the long-legged hoppers. Exploring the lowlands was something he did almost every day and he was not interested in having a shadow. Catching critters by the pond was one thing; playing tour guide and showing the forest dweller around the tundra was another. He would save the adventure for another day, as he was sure they would cross paths again. They were neighbours after all, and while the lowlands were a big place, the stretch of land between their packs was not. “Sounds good, duder!” He chirped in response as he gave her a sharp nod, his tail wagging enthusiastically behind him.

Without hesitation the boy began sniffing along the edge of the pond, his ears pinned forward as he searched for another unsuspecting hopper. He kind of felt bad for them. They were just minding their business, looking for flies, hopping around the pond… and now there were two giants chasing after them. Oh well! “There might be some more on the other side!” He called over his shoulder, his yellow eyes seeking out her dark shape. “If y’go the opposite way maybe we can take 'em by su’prise?” Strategy. He just hoped it would work.

She was still young yet and there was plenty of time for her to explore the tundra, at least she hoped there was. It was only a fleeting thought before she had told Cyril of her decision but she'd thought it all the same. What if something happened to her like it had her grandmum and she had to go to the stars? Oksana pushed it aside not wanting it to ruin the fun she was having. Even though catching hoppers was all in fun for them it was also good practice for when they would need to know how to hunt. That was something more important to the smudge than exploring the Lowlands. A smile crossed her dark face at his words before she rose to her feet and bumped his shoulder with her nose, “Come on lots of hoppers to catch.”

She didn't waste any time as she started sniffing around the edge of the pond behind the Whitestone pup. Now that she'd had one between her paws she knew the smell of them and kept a keen lookout for it as she searched along the water's edge. Her head only came up as Cyril’s voice sounded in front of her, “We should check it out then, might get lucky,” she responded to his suggestion. “We just might,” she agreed, “I’ll go this way and we can meet on the other side,” she added before turning and slipping off in the opposite direction they'd been heading.

She had accepted his plan willingly, which earned a soft nod from the espresso-coloured boy. He remained quiet, stepping on the tips of his toes as he maneuvered around the pond, his yellow gaze fixed on the path before him. There hoppers would be aware of their presence now—especially since they had already caught and released one—so the pair would have to be extra careful. His pace was slow, steady, as he moved forward. There was not much movement around the pond. Sometimes the still surface of the water would break, the result of a fish from below or a bug from above, but his attention would not divert from the task at hand. Catching hoppers was much more important than whatever may be lurking beneath the surface of the water. Unless they were hoppers, as that was his next place to look if the shoreline was a bust.

Cyril allowed his gaze to waver for a moment, to ensure Oksana was still on route toward the other side of the pond. His tail gave a short wag of excitement as he saw her meander along the edge, just as slowly as he was. He was keen on catching another hopper—maybe even two! Three! Or even four!! Sure he was getting a little weary as the warm, afternoon sun continued to beat down on his dark fur, but it was nothing a short swim couldn’t fix. After he caught the hopper.

As he neared the other side of the lake Cyril spotted one of the creatures in the distance, it’s swollen throat deflating and reflating slowly as it lay, unsuspecting, in the shallows of the pond. Perfect. He became more cautious, his movements slow and precise. Once he determined he was close enough the boy flung himself forward, his paws outstretched, seeking the slimy body of the hopper below…

This was practice she needed to learn to hunt and Cyril seemed a good hunting partner. Now that she had the basics down she felt that she would be able to catch another hopper. Neither of them wasted time in searching their sides of the pond for other hoppers. She crept slowly along the bank looking for signs of the green skin and also sniffing for the scent that that first hopper had. Oksana was also careful to keep her paw steps quiet so that they hopefully wouldn't hear her coming. She did have a thought as she sniffed along, did they smell things like she did?

She knew from what her mother had said that there were things they hunted that could smell wolves so care had to be taken. She wondered if that was the case with hoppers too. She glanced over to where Cyril was doing his own hunting, she would have to ask him later to see if he knew. At one moment she thought she'd seen one just below the level of the water's surface so she crept a little closer peering into the water.

Another glance in Cyril's direction told her that he may have found one and she debated going over to where he was. Her gaze drifted along the bank until she saw what he was after, he had found one. For the moment she stayed where she was not wanting to ruin his chances of catching one. The smudge watched in anticipation as he lunged toward the green creature and she waited to find out if he'd been successful.

The boy was too quick for the unsuspecting hopper, his oversized paws reaching for the small green figure among all the mud. He collapsed on top of it, his body crouched over the mud as some of it splashed up in his face. A confident, lop-sided grin rolled onto his dark features as he stuck his nose in between his paws, just to make sure that the hopper had not escaped last second. A triumphant squeal emitted from his small body as he glanced up, searching for Oksana’s dark figure on the other side of the pond. Had she witnessed his stellar attack? His tail wagged excitedly behind him, another yip escaping him. They were quite the hunting duo. Perhaps she wasn’t so bad after all. Didn’t mean he liked her, just that he tolerated her.

And it made catching hoppers a little more interesting.

He lifted his paws slowly, his gaze fixated on the green creature in the mud. It was still—too still. Panic settled in. Had he killed it by mistake? He swallowed, hard, his ears falling back against his crown as he gave it a soft nudge with his nose. At the contact the little hopper sprung to life, leaping away from the dark boy. His grin returned as he leapt after it, taunting the poor thing.

The longer she watch Cyril to see if he had found himself a hopper to catch the more confident she was that he had. Oksana didn't dare move from where she was not wanting to ruin his chances of catching one for him. It was only a moment later that she saw him dive at what she assumed what the hopper he'd found. She'd not yet found it in the bank from the distance she was it blended in so well with the grasses and dirt that surrounded the pond. She saw the mud splash onto him and watched as he pressed his nose between his paws. Unconsciously she took a step forward as she waited to find out and then his squeal confirmed that he had caught himself a hopper. Immediately her tail began to wag rapidly, “Way to go,” she called across the pond to him.

Oksana was glad that they both had been able to catch a hopper and neither would go home without having done so. She felt it was a rather successful day for the both of them but mostly she was glad that all of her training had paid off and she hadn't forgotten any of it since her mother became sick. The dark pup watched as Cyril lifted his paws and the hopper got away from the young boy. As he chased the hopper Oksana went back to sniffing around the edge of the pond to see if she could find another that maybe they both could harass.

He flashed the girl a wide grin as her words of encouragement rang out over the pond, his tail swaying softly behind him. His focus returned to the hopper as he pounced on it a second time, capturing it between his forepaws once more. After he felt it hop against the pads of his feet Cyril released the poor, traumatized creature. It had been a good (temporary) playmate; he had bothered it enough already. Glancing over at his companion he noticed that her nose was glued to the ground once more, seeking another creature to catch. The smile did not falter from his face but Cyril changed his direction. He waded into the shallow pond, the water coming up to his stomach. He had already grown bored of their game and was trying to cool off before he decided to make the trek back to the rock. Cyril couldn’t spend all his time out in the lowlands chasing slimy critters—his parents would not be pleased.