Thicket of Secrets Hidden in the bushes

@Duckweed  ! here ye go.))

A small sigh escaped the large pale skeletal like wolf as he moved, slowly and with care down one of the copious trails that entangled the Thicket of Secretes. The colorless canine had been down these paths only once before and he felt conflicting feelings about it. It had been in this very forest where Icicle had met Lily and followed her back toward her pack in an attempt to join. The memories were painful for him because it had been the one time he had chosen to try and control his own fate...fate the very thing that had dropped this burden onto the wolf at birth.

He continued down the path, his soft pink eyes flicking around, the dim forest a massive relief from the constant burning of the spring sun. ears pricked slightly as he tried to detect the sound, the very reason he was even trending down this trial. He needed water, a very basic need of any living thing and one that had forced the reclusive loner toward the nearest source of water.

There he grunted to himself as the faint trickle of a creek caught the wolf’s attention, he stopped, pausing for a moment as he slowly angled toward the source and starting down the path, eventually, the large and boney male found himself at the edge of the creek, his gaze drifting around as he lowered his muzzle to the edge and lapped at the cool passing liquid.

ThoughtIcicle’s Dialogue

Surprise! Duckweed was out fishing.

Well, he was out with the intention of fishing, as he hadn't arrived yet. Having decided that morning to just play it safe and go with his normal route - having had an unhappy recent experience with daring to do anything different - he'd headed southwest, passing by the Wildflower Glade and turning his feet onto the same familiar path which always took him to the same creek. While he sometimes chose varying spots along that particular stretch of water, he'd noticed no real difference in his results between those days and the ones in which he sat at the same spot several days in a row. He'd wondered if the fish would come to expect him, to behave more cautious if he was too predictable... but either they really did have short memories, or he never saw the same fish twice, or they just didn't care. They were fish after all, how complex could they be? Being plucked out of the water had to be the most singularly exciting thing to happen in their entire lives.

And so, having concluded that it didn't matter at all, he'd gone straight for that favourite spot, because it was where he could sit in the tight bend of the creek and have flowing water on three sides, where the thicket pressed in close behind him for cover and an easy escape, where, conversely, the land in front was open and clear so that anyone approaching from that side was trivial to spot, where he could be on his own for hours and still be productive... where he felt really, truly comfortable.

But someone else was already there, so stuff all that.

He froze, only a few steps away from the creek, the white shape having immediately drawn his attention. The stranger stood only a few yards away, drinking at his creek, and it was only his previous enthusiasm for coming here which kept Duck from instantly shying back into the shadows and hoping that he hadn't been spotted. Instead, disappointment ran thick through his veins, ears twitching back and eyes narrowing. The usual twinge of anxiety at the mere idea of having to interact with someone kicked in shortly afterwards, even though he fully intended on turning around and finding somewhere, anywhere else to be.

Icicle’s soft pink gave blinked open as he finished drinking, maybe he had heard something faint, maybe it had been some instinct, but the longer felt something watching him, though he wasn’t aware if it was predator or prey. He turned slowly, the sun burn that had covered most of the wolf’s neck was healing nicely, and he no longer had use little motion to keep from agitating it, but it was done more out of habit as he found himself facing a very small wolf. Icicle was a little surprised by the wolf’s stature, but given what he himself had gone through, he was not the kind to mock or question someone else’s appearance.

“Hello there.. Icicle said quietly, he wasn't really sure how to act now days, everything he had tried always ended badly. If it had been in his nature, he would have growled and snarled at the pup, but that conflicted deeply with him, he wanted to be alone, yes, but he didn’t want it to ever be derived by fear or aggression on his part. His light, salmon pink nose twitched as he took in the younger wolf’s scent. Not a loner...that’s good, he has others to help him..

ThoughtIcicle’s Dialogue

Something gave the scrawny young wolf pause. Having glanced at the white stranger without really meaning to, that instant of observation told Duck some curious things; the man was tall, sure, but in no way big, with his bones more visible than the runty Duck's ever had been. And he was pale, too, eerily pale, so much so that there was no normal darkness to his nose or eyes, and in its place only a raw pinkness.

Duck blinked, looking at the stranger, subconsciously recognising the meekness he saw reflected back at him. Something changed. Where his paw had been lifted and ready to step back, instead he slowly placed it in front of himself. His heart quickened by a few beats, but he forced his head up a little, forced his tail not to curl under himself, forced it to stay stiff and straight at his hocks. Maybe this was a good opportunity to pretend to be something he wasn't, someone he wasn't - no, not pretend, to practise.

Taking an even, steadying breath, Duck begged his tongue not to betray him. Be someone stronger. "H-hello," he said, in as cool a manner as he could manage, just remembering that this thin white stranger was at his creek, was near his pack, and that Duck was in his every right to be here. Every right. He never stammered around his mother because she didn't intimidate him, didn't trigger that anxiety, didn't prompt the social panic - so he watched this tall white wolf and tried to project that feeling into this situation. Somewhere deep down was a horrified piece of him which was very far from convinced. Be someone else. "Wuh-wh-what are y-you doing here?"

The large, colorless wolf’s tail flicked back and forth as the smaller wolf spoke, His light pink gaze roving over the ragged little shape as he stammered out a question. WHat to do...what to do Icicle mused, he could easily lie, scare this pathetic thing away, but why would he? Is that who he was becoming? A wolf driven to scare away what could barely pass for a pup? A small snarl escaped the pale canine as he shook his head. It disgusted him that he was even considering the option, this little one had done nothing to him.

After a few moments of quiet, he finally spoke “I came for a drink, it’s the closest creek around, so I came here.” That was his only reply. Icicle wasn’t willing or even debating on trying to frighten the small wolf anymore, all he wanted now was for this encounter to be at an end so he could return to the dark rec;usives of the Ghastly Woods after this trip outside of it. Some of Icicle’s old nature started to show for just a moment as the selfless thought came to his mind and he spoke it without hesitation “Are you alright?” Maybe, just maybe he maybe able to help this small wolf, even offering to help, without it backfiring on him.

ThoughtIcicle’s Dialogue

Really sorry for the wait!

His heart hiccuped at the sight and sound of the stranger's displeasure, the faint snarl doing much to combat his struggles to be confident. Pathetic! One flash of smallteeth and, what, he was a puddle on the floor? That wouldn't be what someone else did.

Making sure to control his breathing and convince himself that he was safe because he was stood on the opposite side of a meagre creek relatively far away from the pack territory where all his buddies were, Duck shifted his minutely-trembling nose up an inch, watching the stranger with wary distrust. He'd asked a question and wasn't about to repeat himself. If the guy wanted to be antisocial and dismissive then... then... sure, whatever. It wasn't like Duck could do much about it. He'd probably just turn around and scamper back home. How intimidating.

Naturally, the eerie white stranger's eventual reply was totally mundane, and Duck's ears flicked back in displeasure and embarrassment. How was he supposed to conjure any kind of internal fire from this? When the white loner offered his own question, a rather more friendly one, Duck felt prickles run down his spine and through his cheeks, because why wouldn't he be fine? He didn't like that specific emphasis, not one bit.

"Yuh-y-y-yeah," he snapped, rolling his shoulders in an attempt at nonchalance, as though this was some casual interaction totally beneath him. "Of c-c-cuh, c-course, this is my creek, I'm all, always alruh-ruh-r-right here." Then he fixed the stranger with a stinkeye, disliking how much he felt on edge, reminding himself over and over to pretend that he wasn't himself, to be someone stronger. Someone who could run off a loner from daring to drink at his creek.