Heartleaf Creek everyone's gotta pay the devil his due.

RE: Pookastone Scowle, due to recent snows, your local water source has become very difficult to access.
Dead of night, the sky is clear.  0F. Open for one or two.

Joining a pack was a big, damn mistake. She'd been there…what? Not even a full moon yet. Her belly was full more often than not, and that was a weird change - ate herself sick early on, scuttled far and away so no one would notice her stupidity - and now the local water sources had frozen over. For shit's sake, Morganna had planted her oversized family on the shores of a friggin' lagoon, and it froze over.

The winter was cursed, plain and simple.

Or maybe that was 'cos Morganna had let the bone picker into her home.

Well, whatever the stupid cause, Crow had to travel some ways for fresh water - and then she travelled further, because standing still wasn't her thing. And she didn't want to get fat and lazy. A girl never knew when she was gonna need to cut her losses and run on to the next disaster. And Namir would be ready.

But maybe not today.

Travelling the Creekside proved to be dangerous in the dark, cold night; the wolf went down with a woof and a splash, hissing as the cold water roared up to meet her.

(This post was last modified: Mar 04, 2018, 03:31 AM by Namir.)

I hope I understood what is happening to Namir, if not I'll change it. I'm also game with making this more current if you want to ;D

Patrolling the border had become a constant chore of his, one he actually fancied and took great detail in protecting. When he couldn't sleep and he felt he was turning too many times to count in his sleep her usually opted to patrol the border into the wee hours of the night before finally retiring to his den with fatigue. It would prove to be the only way he could sleep, and today was one of those days. He moved within the shadows in silence, taking great care not to make too much noise for fear of giving up his position but he was not the only wolf awake at this time of the night and he moved toward the distant sound of a loud woof and crash relatively quick. He watched the wolf without a sound, her smell was neutral therefore she was no threat and he moved closer so that she knew there was company before finally speaking, "You're not the most graceful are you?" he asked with a chuckle, intending to break the ice with a joke. She probably wouldn't find it funny, that is if she was the sensitive type, but he moved on either way. "You okay?" he asked finally, cocking his narrow head in jest; he couldn't remember the last time the water had been this vicious.

"Yeah? Well y'ain't th' most fuckin' suave."

So fuck off.

Namir crawled from the water now that she had her feet underneath her, pausing to shake out her dusty coat once she was safely on the shower. Her cheeks burned, the rest of her was freezing, and her whole body felt like it was shaking uncontrollably. Her heart was still pounding in her ears, like the roar of water would never leave her. Dios mio.

For a moment there, she thought she was a goner.

She glanced back up, realizing the wolf was still talking - and then she realized he was another Pookastone wolf. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to place him. "I seen worse," she dismissed the fall, trying to ignore the way her teeth were chattering. "Y'ain't an Archer, are ya?"

@Deadlock -- You got it just fine. Thanks for joining!

His brow lifted when she spoke, a soft chuckle flowed from his mouth when she mentioned he wasn't the most suave, to which his shoulder shrugged. She was quick to retort--he liked that-- and without missing a beat he spoke again, "I'd like to think otherwise but we have our own opinions, eh?" he said, chuckling once more as he watched her scramble out of the water which wasn't directly directed toward her but instead the situation in general. How had she completely missed the fact that there was a raging water source nearby, "I'm sorry to hear that," he said, responding to her statement about seeing worse, he wasn't sure if he believed her, since she was so young but than again everyone had different experiences in life. "and nope, I'm not a Archer. Surprising eh? What's your name?" he asked her, stepping forward and noticing that she was shivering, but he didn't dare attempt to help her, she looked most like the self-sufficient type.

Tcht. Suave wasn’t something a wolf got to decide he was or wasn’t. He just was or he wasn’t. That this guy didn’t seem to know the different told Namir exactly what category he was in, though she didn’t push it. Didn’t care enough to argue a pointless contention when her teeth were chatting so hard it was starting to make her jaw hurt. Somewhere, over the rush of her own blood and constant clicking, she realized the other wolf was still talking.

Her eyes narrowed by fractions. Crow hugged her tail close to her body and shook again, trying to dispel the lingering chill; it didn’t work.

“Yeh, suprisin’, I guess. Pack seems t’be fuckin’ full of ‘em. ‘m Crow. An’ headin’ pack tha’ way.”

Clearly, not an Archer either – but no one would mistake her for one. Not in a hundred years.