Skeletal Hill what about sunrise?

@Cottongrass <3 Fitting that Cecily's first thread would be with the same wolf Castel's was.

It was kind of cold out, even though Cecily could feel the milky, winter sunlight touching her fur. Mostly, it was the snow under her paws that chilled her. The cool breeze told her that the trees were thinning out - which was pretty great, because she was tired of bumping her nose against rough bark and tripping over undergrowth. But now the ground was less stable, and she kind of felt like she was climbing up a hill. Which wasn't super great, but she couldn't really complain. As long as she didn't fall off the edge, she'd be happy.

But the ground was weird, and she slipped a couple of times. It felt like she was walking on sharp, hollow rocks, and she didn't enjoy it at all. So, when she hit a particularly large one, she decided to stop. Her nose softly touched across the surface, mapping it out in her head. It was strange, she thought - it felt oddly like a face, but without fur and skin.

Oh.

The little Noor paused, her fur fluffing up in alarm as she tried to find her way back down the hill she was on.

Whoever it was that decided to start not only collecting but also hoarding bones was a freak in all meanings of the word. And everything about that sentence felt harsh and jagged inside of his mouth but he didn't know how else he was supposed to react to the thousands of bones around him. He knew that collecting things was nice. There was nothing wrong with gathering a small pile of interesting things and calling it your own. But finding and keeping thousands upon thousands of bones? It was breaking some kind or rule or moral that Cottongrass didn't even know existed until then.

But he couldn't bring himself to stop heading deeper into the clearing. It was morbid curiosity that pushed him forward. He wanted to know just how extensive the collection was. Maybe he could even find the wolf that decided to just hoarding bones like their life depended on it. And maybe when he found the stranger they would kill him and add him to the pile but he pretended he never had that particular thought.

He didn't stop his search until he could hear the distinct clatter of bone grinding against bone. Was that the bone collector? Or was it his own imagination playing a trick on him? He pressed forward. Closer towards the hill he knew for a fact was made out of bones.

His yellow eyes caught sight of a girl. Confusion blared inside of his head. Was she the cause behind all of the bones? She didn't look like she could manage such a hobby. But what did he know. His tail wagged and he took one step forward.

"Are these your bones?" He called out towards her. That just might have been the weirdest sentence he ever said.

Cecily was quite caught up with the fact that holy crap she was standing on a hill of bones - when an unexpected voice called out to her. In all honesty, Cecy didn't startle easily. It was moreso the idea of being on a mountain of carcasses was definitely unsettling, and a voice - no matter how friendly or cheerful or sweet - was alarming in this situation, and she yelped as she lost her footing.

She didn't fall very far, but she certainly did fall. Fortunately enough, she was nearer the bottom of the hill, and only ended up scraping just the end of her nose on the ground when she took her tumble. But to her credit, she did stand up quickly, even if her fur was a bit ruffled up.

"N-no they're not my bones!" she argued indignantly, that Noor temper flaring for just a brief second at the stinging pain in her muzzle. She sniffed and wiped at it with her paws. "Sorry, sorry. You scared me a little," the young wolf remedied, her tail beginning a slow wag behind her and a small smile on her lips in hopes that she was facing at least remotely the wrong direction. "I'm Cecy. Cecily, actually, but mostly everyone calls me Cecy."

A young deer has been separated from the rest of its herd. Hunt Opportunity

It was a tale as old as time itself. One that had the same old formula he knew by heart but he couldn't quite predict before it unfolded before his very eyes. Because Cottongrass spoke. The girl flinched and lost her footing. Cottongrass winced and some very small part inside of him died and withered away.

He thought he was getting better about — about everything. About not almost killing everyone he met and not always jamming his foot into his mouth at every chance he got. But his first impression he just made on the girl showed that old habits died hard.

His tail gave a panicked wag and he let out a worried bark as he approached her. Because falling sucked. He did it on an almost daily basis and it never got easier or more fun with time. But before he could nose at her or apologize — the girl was on her feet and facing him. His ears twisted on top of his head and he cocked his head in curiosity. Were her eyes looking at him or through him? Was she okay? Maybe she —

'Cecily, actually, but mostly everyone calls me Cecy.'

His line of thought went out the window.

"Oh." She was just going to jump into introducing herself. Cottongrass was surprisingly okay with that. It was better than her yelling at him that he almost killed her or something dramatic along the lines. "Uh. I'm Cottongrass." He hesitated for a moment before just rolling with the sentence.

"But everyone calls me Cotton." Nicknames were weird. He never fully understood them or really used them but he wasn't going to complain. His tail wagged and he gave her an awkward smile. "Sorry for, uh, scaring you." Please tell me I just didn't accidentally maim or injure you.

(This post was last modified: Dec 09, 2017, 06:12 PM by Cottongrass.)