Heartleaf Creek rhymes entangled in silence

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Back within the bramble of the Thicket of Secrets, the Arctic followed the course of the river that snaked through the tightly woven trees.

Or, lack <i>thereof</i> of a river that used to claim the water ways.

Not noticing that water began to grow far and thin while heading Southeast, the rogue Arctic began to progressively dawn upon the fact that what <i>should</i> have been a swiftly coursing Creek was nothing more than a few stagnant puddles leftover, even little rivers that wouldn't be miniscule enough to satisfy a creature's thirst no less. Trailing close to the once water saturated banks of the Creek, the canopy of trees were heavy enough to veil a considerate amount of sunlight that beamed in the mid-afternoon. The effect of shade made the ambience of the area much cooler than usual, but then again, something didn't feel <i>right</i>, and noticed how his paw falls were becoming progressively more and more hesitant to travel forth. Not to mention for how far he traveled thus far, his thirst was beginning to give him cotton mouth.

Coming upon a junction where the Creek was supposed to gradually deepen, the blue eyed male stopped at the slope of the bank into the Creek, where it leveled out into nothing but remnants of sitting water that was quickly becoming absorbed by the Earth and the roots. To <span class='word'>emend</span> himself from thinking he was delusional at first, it was a very much real reality that the water <i>was</i> drying up. Catching eye of several rotted trout that weren't able to survive their drought, there was an apparent grimace writing itself upon his snow white jaws. Not a word slipped his maw, nor a thought, but continued to survey the scene as if it was some sort of murder grounds. This place was abundant with rich fauna, so why was the water source nearly disappearing? Was this the beginning of the end for this region of the Southeast? Aren Arceneau didn't know, but something told him that his stay here probably wouldn't last long because of it.

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(This post was last modified: Nov 14, 2010, 03:13 PM by Aren.)

It was a pointless visit – Ruiko knew that before he had left Swift River earlier that morning, and yet foolish hope had spurred him on regardless. It was impossible for the male to watch the effects Relic Lore had on his younger sibling these days. Kinis never complained, but the tawny male knew the boys mouth was as dry and sore as his, and he knew the boys stomach rumbled. It was with this simple knowledge that the male had left each morning, trailing the different areas of Relic Lore in hopes of finding a miraculous pool of water that was untouched by the wildlife that surrounded them. Soon, if water was not found or replenished, the older Tainn wolf would have to lead the boy away from their home.. perhaps attempt to trail Indru and the others. He simply could not leave behind the lands they had grown up in.

Just as suspected, the creek remained dried up. Sparse remnants of mud littered the old creek as a reminder to what had been.. but nothing worth moving forward and attempting to quench the ache in his tongue and throat. The large male prowled the edges of the creek, his eyes stubbornly remaining upon the muddy source before another scent drifted along the breeze. Glancing up, the tawny wolf’s attention fell upon a lone ivory figure not far off. The pure pelt reminded the wolf of the pale creature he had met weeks ago, though he could not recall her name. The wolf before him could not be mistaken for the she-wolf though, for the rogue’s features were masculine, while his size was immense compared to the frail girl.

The white male was studying the creek in silence, and intrigued, the Tainn wolf ushered a low ‘woof’ to announce his present, his own foot falls slowing to a stop.