Turtleback Lake I Am the Color of Boom

For @Otter :D

As it turned out, Cottongrass could only loiter near pack territory before it just got uncomfortable. Like he was doing something bad even when he kept well away from pack borders and all he ever did was wait around for one certain wolf. And as such, he was suddenly a wolf on the move as he wandered southbound following one of many trickling streams. He weaved his way through towering trees with overburdened branches and closer towards some unnamed destination that he only knew as far.

And he didn't stop until the trees did, thick forest giving way to a sandy and pebbly shore that was hidden under a thin layer of snow.

It was there he waddled right up to the water's edge, tail wagging and ears twisted forward like the lapping waves held that much interest. And upon dipping his front paws in—Cottongrass finally looked up towards the water's horizon. He was greeted with the sight of distant shores that glimmered with potential. Because honestly, who wouldn't want to explore random islands in the middle of a lake? His tail wagged harder and his lips quirked up in a smile, jaws parting so his tongue could loll out. He even took a daring step forward, deeper into the lake.

But as the water soaked the fur of his legs and nipped at the skin underneath, he paused. Aytigin wasn't nearby for when he would inevitably freeze his ass off. And admittedly he liked not freezing to death all by himself just because of one of his many impulsive thoughts. So with nothing left to really do, Cottongrass plopped himself down on the lake's shore with a jarring thud. It was there he would sit until he either got bored or something happened.

(This scientific and highly studied method of curing boredom had yet to fail him, after all.)

(This post was last modified: Apr 17, 2017, 10:04 PM by Cottongrass.)

Otter's den was not so much a den as a makeshift bed. He had found an old sentinel of a pine tree located just inside the treeline on the lake's edge. Over time its massive roots had heaved above the ground and formed an inviting crook at the base of the tree. Otter scratched away the dead needles and cones that had collected there, until all that remained was bare earth. Then he covered that with the feathers from the birds he had hunted. The birds themselves were the reason Otter had chosen the lake for his stop over in the first place. The forest was ripe with grouse and ducks and geese made use of the water.

The white wolf on the shore was not the only one looking for a cure to boredom. Otter, still digesting his last meal and freshly woke from a restful nap in his temporary bed, was now on his feet and on the prowl for the same. He made tracks from the great pine toward the shore... and immediately caught sight of the bright pelt against the relatively darker backdrop of the lake and its islands. His mouth rose devilishly at one corner, but he did not immediately make a move. The dark wolf glanced around and hummed as he considered what mischief he could get up to. A more wiser and practical wolf might have considered  important things such as: would this wolf bite my face if I had a bit of fun with him? But not not Otter.

Soon as an idea sprang to mind Otter sprang into action. He flew from the tree line and raced toward the yearling.He woofed and hollered, "bees! bees!" as he soared past the other wolf and kept running down the shore line, making a show out of tossing his head and flicking his tail as if the stinging insects were descending upon him.

But there were no bees.

Asdfghjkl, Otter <3

The moment Cottongrass heard the explosion of sound behind him, he was already ready. And really, he didn't have enough time to hear much less understand what the wolf was hollering about. But did that stop Cottongrass from springing to his feet, whipping around to face the panicked stranger as they ran by?

Nope.

Not even in the slightest.

Because instead of hesitating or thinking about the man's exclamation of bees! bees!, Cottongrass took it at face value and started running. His heart was already racing and it wasn't even the good, fun kind. Instead it was the rib cage bruising, oh geez my heart is going to explode please stop kind that had him ready to vomit. And so blindly he stumbled after them, his paws numb from the cold water and the terrain foreign. "Where?" He shouted, still struggling and failing to catch up to the other wolf. If anything it made the mounting panic inside of him only grow.

"Where?!" He demanded again, not even giving the other wolf a chance to answer the first time he asked. Because he was going to die, that's why. And somewhere in the back of his big skull, his mind whined a pitiful no. He wasn't good at running! He was slow! He was clumsy! Yet he forced himself to lumber along, watching as the other wolf effortlessly raced ahead. His ears rolled back and his features became a heavy grimace.

This was it. This was how Cottongrass No Last Name died. He could already feel the tiny, prickling sensation of a thousand bees crawling over his fur and skin and the all-consuming buzz ringing in his ears. It was what he needed to give one last burst of speed, limbs already aching and lungs burning.

(This post was last modified: Apr 19, 2017, 03:46 AM by Cottongrass.)

There is a rabbit's nest nearby. +1 Health

Hehe <3

Oh what a good sport this other wolf was. He joined Otter in running from imaginary bees without any hesitation and so the pair hared down the lake edge together — sort of. The white wolf trailed behind some distance, but amid his head tossing Otter kept him in his periphery and adjusted his sprinting and frolicking to make sure he did not lose his impromptu partner in this bee-fleeing practice. Though there was no danger, his heart raced with the thrill of simply running and pretending there was. His tongue lolled from the side of his jaw as he panted. He was grinning like a right ol' fool, but the unsuspecting yearling behind him probably could not see it, nor how his eyes were bright with delight and mischief.

"Everywhere!" Otter shouted back, continuing the charade. "Quick! Into the water! Bees are too fat to swim!" Like a rabbit trying to dodge a fox, the dark wolf made a snappy pivot, spinning on his toes and churning the ground as he launched himself overboard with a mighty splash. In that moment he truly was Splashing Otter as he twisted and kicked and rolled and continually threw water into the air... an effective strategy for when real stinging insects were swarming overhead.

Thank you for being patient~

If bees were too fat to swim, what could that possibly say about him? Cottongrass found that he didn't know. That he couldn't even start to know because his mind was focused on other, more important things like trying to not keel over from a heart attack. Because the wolf running along in front of him was all grace and agility, pivoting and diving into the water like they were made for it. Cottongrass just sagged. His pink tongue lolled out of his mouth and he slobbered all over himself, trying his best to lumber along but it was a losing battle as he took to pitifully jogging behind the stranger.

And when his paws dragged along the pebbly shore and cold water lapped at his toes, he gladly flopped over into the lake. The water was shallow where he now rested on his stomach, but he was pretty sure it would do. Besides, there was no angry buzzing thrumming away in his ears and he felt no tiny legs or stingers dragging through his fur. That must have meant the stranger's plan worked, right? He couldn't help but let his tail wag away behind him in the water. Because—

"That was a close one!" He barked, letting out a shaky laugh while he pushed himself out of the water and onto his paws. They could have died or something! But they didn't and Cottongrass was pretty sure it called for celebration. He padded deeper into the lake's surface, paws still touching the bottom as the waves pushed at his chest. And with a smile bright on his face, he watched as the other wolf continued to splash and kick about in the water.

Just like it was second-nature for them.

No problem! I love the description of Cottongrass in that post LOL.

The white wolf took Otter's suggestion without hesitation or question but he did not possess Otter's limber range of motion and flair. The stockier fellow simply dropped himself down into the cool lake and chilled with most of his fur and flesh submerged and safely out of the way of ornery bees, imaginary or otherwise. He was like the old dog on the porch. There was a sort of lumbering and low-energy nonchalance about him.

"That was a close one!"

"You're a natural bee flee-er, friend," Otter commented with a grin as he ceased his theatrics and glanced over to the other male. He smoothly treaded water for a few moments before gliding toward the shore. His nails clipped the loose sand. A few more effortless strokes and his paws dug into it, lifting his spine clear of the lake as he walked ashore. Spreading his forelegs, Otter gave his coat a thorough shake before plunking himself down on his butt.

"If there actually were any bees, I am quite certain you would not have gotten stung by a one of them." He punctuated this assertion with a single pronounced nod of his snout as his tail merrily swished across the ground.

@Otter ~

It was, admittedly, ridiculously easy to befriend Cottongrass. You didn't even have to be nice to him before he would decide that you were cool and he was going to cling to you like a tick. So when the stranger pointed out his natural bee flee-er skills, a switch was flipped in the back of his mind. His face lit up in a cheesy grin and you know, he was pretty good at fleeing from bees, wasn't he? No doubt one of the best because he was never stung be a bee in his whole entire life and that had to mean something in the grand scheme of things. And it was very nice for his new friend to notice that about him.

He couldn't even pretend to not be ridiculously pleased with the compliment, jaws parted in a silly grin with his tail splashing about in the water behind him. Because he was Cottongrass, bee flee-er extraordinaire in that moment. He waddled to shore with a spring in his step, trailing after the other wolf with a giddiness in his heart. And with his feet on dry land he shook out his coat, only stopping when his ears twitched and the wolf's voice filled his ears. He (poorly, so very poorly) tried to look nonchalant, that of course if there were actually bees he wouldn't have gotten stung once and—

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

His mind reeled back and he frantically tried to make sense of what his new friend had just said, complete and utter confusion making its way to the forefront of his mind. Because if there were actually any bees? What the heck were they talking about? He looked up with his head cocked and the bright smile on his face becoming forced, brows furrowing in bemusement. And ever so intelligently he blurted out—

"Huh?" Slowly—slowly—the gears and cogs that made up his mind sputtered to life and started to turn.

(This post was last modified: May 13, 2017, 10:36 PM by Cottongrass.)

The fictitious nature of their sprint across the shoreline and into the lake was dawning on his companion. Otter took the few moments between the white wolf's mind coming online and his bewildered, questioning huh to chew an itch out of his shoulder and dig another out of the base of his ear with a hind paw. Then, noticing the expression on the other wolf's face he grinned with a good-natured impishness.  


"Something troubling you, friend? Have you never practiced sprint-aways before? There are all kinds of ornery beasts that live in the woods. It's good to make sure you can always run."

He spoke smoothly and confident, as if his charade was indeed a common routine to be into. Or as if wolves frequently behaved as rabbits and hared away from forest denizens. Neither was true. What was true was that Otter had not only scratched the literal itches in his coat but the figurative one in his soul. He was thoroughly amused and the quick run, stretching his supple body and limber legs, felt great in his muscles too.  

"So, what's your name, eh? You can call me Otter."

He stood. His tail drifted casually back and forth behind him.

Confrontation wasn't his strong suit. It might have well been his weak suit because he was about as submissive as a wilting flower, and that was only on a good day! So when the stranger before him took his bewilderment with nothing more than a few good-natured questions, it more or less broke his mind. Destroyed his sense of reality, really. But he tried to remain optimistic about it all when the other wolf asked if there was something troubling him.

"No." He said, a hopeless sort of smile already starting to spread across his features. And usually—usually—he trusted his instincts because they were all he had going for him. Except the stranger carried on in that smooth and confident sort of way that had him doubting himself. Because he was pretty sure they just said if there actually were any bees mere moments ago and he really wanted to find out more about that. But he wasn't so sure anymore as he listened to them go on and talk about always running away from beasts in the woods. Maybe he misunderstood them or something. It wouldn't be the first time and it probably wouldn't be the last.

The idea of someone playing a harmless trick on him never even occurred once. He decided to drop it. Even when his mind continued to wriggle and squirm what thoughts of what if?

"Yeah, yeah." Cottongrass finally said, not entirely sure what he might have been agreeing to but agreeing nonetheless. It just seemed easier to move the conversation along than it was to actually think about what was being said. Besides, he could totally do introductions! Did them all the time when he wandered out and about in the name of misadventure.

"Cottongrass." He chirped, finally being able to answer one of the wolf's questions with a smile bright on his face while his tail started its merry wag behind him. And maybe if he were someone else he would snort or make a fuss about a wolf being named Otter of all the things. But he was a wolf named Cottongrass and it wasn't in his nature to even think of doing something like that. "It's nice to meet you, Otter." Was instead what he said, more than happy to make another friend.

Even if said friend had him on the verge of existential crisis mere moments ago.