Hollowheart Keep yup, I'm a cutie in my own way

Every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top

Duska Artemieva

Well, south seemed as good as any other direction. The ground had rolled up to meet her paws as the trees offered shelter from the whipping winds that tore across the tundra. She had followed a river south, falling on the western side of the mountain that now rose up right before her. There was a promising pass, she supposed, if she was silly enough to go climbing a mountain in the snow, Nah-uh, no thanks, that was a sure fire way to find herself with a broken leg, and behind her, well, the trees were kinda creepy but she was willing to check it out.

It seemed like no time at all before the tumble of stones was before her, the mouth of the den barely visible beneath the roll of snow that had blown against the base of the stone. "Hmm," she hummed as she inched closer, her nose working overtime as she tried to figure out if the real estate was available. At a quick sniff it seemed safe enough, but was it really?

Her snout worked its way in as her paws scratched at the snow, an ear turning forward at the obvious sound of movement. Duska pulled back, her hear cocking to the side as she tried to figure out what it was... It wasn't until she dropped down to look that she saw the familiar spikey rear of a porcupine backing quickly in her direction. She yelped and skidded backwards, falling over her own feet as she went. "Nopenopenope!"

The boy had become quite taken with the mountain, especially since the discovery of the secluded tarn nestled into the rock. It was slowly beginning to feel like a home. They had added another to their group; a friend of his mother’s, Lorcán. He was still undecided on how he felt about the tawny male, for he was quiet and kept to himself. But they were all that way. Cyril had done a one-eighty after the death of his father and was no longer as exuberant as he had been. Now he shied away at the idea of meeting strangers and preferred to be on his own (or with his mother… or @Adeltra). Maybe he would grow out of it as he got older, or as more wolves joined their group. Maybe he would find his voice again. He didn’t really care anymore.

At the sound of another Cyril’s hackles instantly rose, his yellow eyes narrowing as he scanned the gnarled trees of the woods. Although spooky, the woods offered protection from the cold, which was why he had descended down the mountain in the first place. And to look for food to bring back. Instead he was greeted by the scent, and voice, of a stranger. Taking hesitant steps forward Cyril spotted the pale shape in the distance, scrambling backward from something. His immediate thought was to leave, as it wasn’t his problem. But who was he to resist a damsel in distress, even if he had grown sullen and withdrawn over the months?

You’re on the wrong end, he called out as he approached, his steps cautious as he eyed the spikey creature from a safe distance.

Every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top

Duska Artemieva

You're on the wrong end, Dull orange eyes grew wide as her ears pinned further back against her skull, lips pulled taught in her terror, a big lump at the back of her throat strangling the words she spat back, "Do they even have a right end?!" One run in with a cranky porcupine had been enough for a lifetime as far as the Artemieva was concerned, she could have sworn her lip was starting to swell just from being exposed to the scent of one again. Seeming to take offence to her words the creature bristled, waving it's spikey behind in warning of another impending charge. "I'm goin! I'm goin! Get back in your hole! I don't want it!" But apparently her sweet words weren't enough to soothe the savage beast as it continued to shuffle backwards in her direction.

There are several fresh rabbit tracks in the mud. Hunt Opportunity

Sure they do, he quipped in response, an amused grin tugging on his dark features as he observed the panicked girl, and you’re on the wrong end. Obviously. He remained at a distance, his brows pinched tight as he watched the spiked creature shuffle backward, closer to the pale damsel in distress. The girl was going to get her eye poked out if she didn’t move quickly—unless that’s what she wanted. Who was Cyril to judge? He had been haunted by his own share of dark thoughts; maybe this girl wasn’t so different from him. Or she just didn’t know how to react to being bombarded by a creature with spikes for fur. Giving a dramatic roll of his eyes the sullen boy padded forward, a heavy sigh causing his shoulders to sag as she shouted at the creature. C’mon, he mumbled as he pressed his forehead to her side in an attempt to shove her out of the way. Running away might be a better option. Instead of just yelling at it.

He didn’t wait for her as he bounded away from the porcupine, his oversized paws moving quickly over the snow-dusted ground as he distanced himself from the girl and their assailant.

Every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top

Duska Artemieva

Oh well, yeah, of course, Running away was a far better option but with fear coursing through her veins and bad memories of previous encounters with cranky porcupines at the front of her mind her legs didn't quite want to cooperate. What was meant to be a helpful shove knocked the girl clean of her feet, the startled bark that left her mouth the only thing giving the monster pause enough for her to roll over and right herself, claws finally finding purchase in the snow and propelling her after the dark boy. At least with it's little legs, the porcupine seemed to take their retreat as a victory and ceased it's relentless pursuit.

"So-uh, thanks for back there. I normally end up with spikes in my face without fail," She offered with a self-depreciating laugh. "I'm Duska," She hoped the boy would introduce himself without prompting but if not, well, she would figure something out.

An amused grin collapsed onto his dark features as he watched her tumble after him, her paws struggling to find a grip on the snow-covered ground. Perhaps he had shoved her a little too hard, or she had been too engrossed in the spiked creature and was taken by surprise, but at least his gentle push had given her momentum. And it meant he wouldn’t be plucking quills from her face.

Her gratitude was dismissed with a gentle wag of his tail. Even if he had become a bit of a recluse and shied away from conversation (and interacting with strangers) Cyril was still a good boy and couldn’t allow the girl to get traumatized by a porcupine. Cyril, he introduced warmly, his yellow gaze falling onto her tawny frame. You get chased by porcupines often? He asked, his chin tipping to the side as his grin continued to widen across his maw. It felt strange, and made his cheeks ache, but he couldn’t chase the smile away if he tried. She had successfully amused him—a rare feat.

Every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top

Duska Artemieva

Duska tucked the name away for later with a face-splitting smile, her tail waving happily at her back as she chuckled. "Umm, well, yeah I guess so. If there's one in the area there's a pretty good chance I'm gonna find it and make it mad. I just like sticking my nose in everything I guess... Can't win all the time!" She was surprisingly optimistic about the probability that her curiosity was going to land her in the shit. "But you know, if you don't look you'll never know! Once I found a sleeping bear so I didn't go back there once the weather warmed up, another time I found someone's cache so its usually half and half, the good tends to outweigh the occasional quill in the face." She chuckled, realising she had caught herself waffling on a bit there. "So how about you? Get into stuff you shouldn't out of habit? Or are you more the knightly type saving damsels in distress?" There was a playful twinkle in her eye. It would be perfectly evident that she wasn't much of a one to take anything seriously.

Cyril wasn’t really used to such enthusiastic wolves—not since Risaela. He was a little overwhelmed by her abundance of words; his ears swooped to the side, a small frown creasing his dark features as he listened to her (as patiently as he could). It was quite alarming how positive she was. It was something he wasn’t used to, especially since he had a personal cloud of doom and gloom following him around. His yellow eyes had widened when she mentioned encountering a sleeping bear and he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe there was something wrong with her nose. Huh, he mused, his maw canting to the side as he observed her with a single raised brow. You sure have some luck, huh? Poor girl. At least he’d rescued her this time and prevented her from a face full of quills.

So how about you? His lips tightened as he considered her question. The boy didn’t really get into anything he wasn’t supposed to. For the most part, he was good. He just had a bad case of wandering paws and enjoyed not being tied down by rules. Guess I’m more of the knightly type, he offered with a lazy shrug, a small smile appearing on his stoic features. It was better than being a trouble-maker.