At least the sun had come out? Namir hadn’t yet decided if this was a blessing. The heat, the harsh rays, those were her comfort zone, yes… But they also made the cherry juice thicken, harden, and utterly reek. She and Vaken smelled like a pair of buzzard kills. Her coat was sticking up at all angles, and it was really beginning to itch. She was just losing faith she was off in the wrong direction (couldn’t smell the pack at all) when they finally came across the stony rim of the spring.

She frowned. “S’lot lower than I remember,” she muttered, not hesitating before wading into the water. It might have been more contracted, but the water was still spring fed, still cool and refreshing as it oozed up from the earth. “Whatever. It’ll still work. An’ no packs ‘nymore.”

A total bonus, in her opinion.

“Oh.”

Well, why hadn’t he said something before? The female wrinkled her nose but didn’t say anything, instead settling into the water. She took a few sips before wading in even further, until the water was up to the bottom of her shoulder blades. The cold temperature was rejuvenating, even as her tired muscles started to ache. “Huh.”

It was lower than last year, but a lot could change in four seasons. That it had changed since Vaken had last visited (whatever ‘recently’ meant, she figured it was probably more ‘recent’ than when she’d been here) was much stranger. “The heat, maybe? Ain’t been rainin’ much. Nothin’ t’ refill.”

It made some sense. She wasn’t sold on her own theory.

Namir dunked her head underwater for as long as she dared, resurfacing with wild shaking. This was gonna take some work.

“So what’s yer name, anyways? An’ why were y’rollin’ around in th’ cherry trees?”

She never did get to asking yesterday.

“Crow.”

Not little anymore. Still not-- The conversation she had with Annabird over a month ago echoed in her skull. No, she was Crow. Just Crow. They fell back into silence as each assessed the problem that was their coat; once she realized repeated dunking only did so much, the older wolf gave a heavy sigh. The pulpy bits had floated away, but the juice was still stuck in pieces.

She could chew it out. But that sounded disgusting. A glance around showed her some rocks, pebbles, and bit of sand. The sand was the best option the loner could see, so she helped herself back out of the cool spring and began to roll, doing her best to scrub whatever remaining bits of fruit were stuck in her tawny coat. As she rolled back upright, tucking her legs beneath her, she noticed the abandoned carcass several lengths away from the shore. Namir frowned.

Her stomach growled, and she frowned harder, glancing around for its owner. “Well. That jes’ seems too convenient,” she muttered, slowly getting up to her feet. Her skin prickled, leaving her wet (and still sticky) coat sticking up at awkward angles, making her look strange more than it did threatening. “Y’ seein’ what ‘m seein’?”

Namir was having a hard time deciding if she really liked this guy, or really hated him. He was fucking annoying in all the right ways – in all the ways she generally strove to be – and it was like a flashback to herself four seasons ago, fresh in the forest. Before she met everyone, before she found out what happened to her Mama, before Poke-stone Scowle.

The wolf smirked, watching him in silence as he stomped over to the carcass and took a noisy bite. “Y’all don’t strike me as th’ good karma sort,” she opined casually, a brow raised. “An’ it sure as hell ain’t mine.” She sorta figured that went without saying. She did threaten to leave him behind yesterday.

Striding forward, the dusty loner joined Vaken at the carcass, deciding he had the right idea. Probably wasn’t the universe rewarding them – quite the opposite – but they might as well take their fortunes until the mangy vermin showed up to kick their asses. “Reckon they ain’t gonna be thrilled t’ see us eatin’ their kill.” It made her laugh. “Karma sure is a fickle bitch, ain’t she?”

Maybe not their good karma, but maybe the coyotes terrible karma in return. Hell, she loved the idea of that.

What was he thinking? Crow wasn’t ready to just agree to whatever thought fluttered through his mind, but thankfully, it didn’t seem like Vaken was actually looking for any sort of conformation. The younger wolf took a few more bites and she did the same, making sure to get something in her empty belly before she lifted her head. Her tongue washed over her muzzle as she sighed, lifting her head to try and scent the air. Mostly, she smelled them.

Slightly less stinky, yes… But a combination of wet dog wolf and old cherry, right next to a carcass, made it hard to detect anything else that might be floating around in the nearby woods.

“I still wanna know where th’ hell they all came from,” she muttered, as much to her company as to herself. “Weren’t always like this. Lived here almost four whole seasons ‘fore they showed up.” Which was comforting (in a sense), for Crow always felt responsible for catastrophe, but still. She was pretty sure the two events weren’t related.

As if that weren’t enough, the repugnant creatures appeared as if on cue. A handful of them fur bristling, tails flagging as they started to growl. Clearly, they expected their prize to be safe where they left it. “Shoulda cached it!” Crow snapped back to them, offering a show of teeth.

Two on three? That wasn’t the worst odds she’d seen. And she was kinda scrappy. “Whaddya think, Vaken? Bet we could show ‘em th’ way out.”