Turtleback Lake a fine frenzy

RE: The sky darkens with ash from a distant forest fire. -- for @Lena perhaps?

Despite the vagarious nature of the weather, of the change of the seasons, Reyes had managed to keep from being caught in another violent thunderstorm. It was the small mercies, he supposed, and it was the same begrudging gratefulness that he carried with him as he came upon the large lake. The dark wolf circled once, twice – scenting no established packs along the shores, he waded in, first for a drink, and then for a bath. A wolf could never be too clean – a large body of water was quite helpful in that particular matter.

Shaking the water from his thick coat, Reyes settled in the sunshine to bask, to dry – he had nowhere important to be. In fact, he had nowhere to be at all.

Perhaps that was why he allowed his dark eyes to close. The wolf started awake; how long had he left himself unguarded? A quick scan made it obvious there was no immediate danger. So what had woken him? Glancing upwards was enough to tell him; there was a haze rolling in. He might have worried for incoming storms, had his nose not informed him that was definitely smoke. Surely the stench had woken him.

“Dios mio,” he muttered unhappily. “That’s just what I need. A forest fire.”

On the road again. She'd begun her journey east, more than a wee bit excited. Lena carried little more than wild hopes and wilder dreams. Family. Tales of her father from when he was younger. She didn't give the thought that they might chase her off a second whiff. This was how it would pan out, no matter what. Not even the dull ache in her paws would put her off--no terrain was too rugged to cross! Except the mountain above that she had avoided at all costs; no way would she tackle something like that! At least not yet. Not without proper rest and a proper meal in her belly. She had, surprisingly, started to grow bored with scavenging and foraging.

So at the sight of a lake (a huge one at that) the prospect of fish well and truly tickled her tastebuds, and started a reaction of saliva pooling in her jaws. Fish, warm yet cold. Flaky and moist. She'd tried fishing a handful of times, in small streams that pulled away from the main river, or pools of water when said streams had dried out in the summer heat. That was easy enough! Lake fishing though ... well, that might prove a tad bit more difficult.

It was as she began her merry trot towards the shores that her nose twitched. Something smelt wrong. How she knew, she couldn't put her finger on it. Her hackles raised, ears falling flat to her skull. Wrong, wrong, wrong. That smell was dangerous. Her eyes scanned the surrounding area to pinpoint what exactly the cause was, only to find herself focusing on a wolf, laid in the sandy shores. He seemed to be looking up, and so Lena followed his gaze, only to release a startled yelp.

A great black cloud rose up from the horizon, casting shadows across the sky. It billowed, so different from the usual pattern of movement clouds took; lazy drifting or thunderous roiling. Whatever this mysterious force was, it was spreading through the sky like a plague.

Seeking safety in numbers, Lena drew up closer to the dark wolf, pale eyes anxiously focused on the rising tower of dark.

"What is that?" Instinct told her she should be afraid of it, that she should find a way away ... and yet it was all so morbidly captivating. "D'you know? I've never seen anythin' like it."

(This post was last modified: Sep 06, 2016, 03:26 PM by Lena.)

Oh, good! He was so distracted, he let another kid wander up to him. Reyes narrowed his mahogany eyes at the young female, ears laying back a fraction as she opened her big damn mouth and began to speak. It was, however, not a smart-ass remark, not like that ascua. An improvement, he supposed, if only mildly. If he had to be surrounded by other wolves, better the ones that didn’t try to find the chinks in his armor.

Looking back from the girl to the smoke, he chuffed unhappily. “Tcht. That? Bad air, chica. You choke on it if you breath it too long. Fumar, yeah?” Idly, he realized he had no translation for it – only the word his mother gave him in the language she was born to. “Not so easy, though. You don’t get the black air without a fire. You know what that is, don’t you?”

If the girl was that clueless, he might just have to leave her here to her fate, lest she drag him down along with her. @Lena was given a sideways look, the loner’s ears flattening just a bit more as he waited. “This not happen much up here, then? Fire?”

Bad air, he said. Fumar. The idea of a suffocating cloud was actually rather frightening, and for a moment she wondered if anything--predator or prey--had fallen to the dark plume. She frowned, eyebrows knitting together. Suffocation ... choking on thick, black air? Now that was a truly terrifying thought to entertain, so she whisked it away to the back of her mind; best not to think of such things at a time of such excitement, right?

"Course I know 'bout fire. I just ... didn't really realise that this is what it caused." Her father had, of course, taught her all about the world. Stories that had been passed down to him were then given to her. And yet, Lena's father had never told her about the "fumar" ... and then it hit her like a strong slap in the face, causing her to blink twice in rapid succession. "Fumar ... that's smoke, yeah?" The word he used didn't roll off her tongue quite as well as it had rolled off the stranger's, but that was alright. Mispronunciation wouldn't be the death of her. After all, she had a certain quirk to her speech as well. A bubbly, bouncy slang that swept across her lips and drizzled itself all over her words like a honey glaze.

Fires? Up here? She shook her head, answerless. "I'm not from 'round here. I'm more from ... erm, I guess ..." Lena glanced up at the sky, trying to pinpoint the location of the sun within the endless blue; the guiding light. "North. That way." She gave a flick of her muzzle in the direction she had journeyed from. "It's colder--an' wetter--so we don't really see much fire. Never seen with my own eyes." There were sunny summers, sure, but most of the time, her birthplace was damp. The air was moist with water droplets, and the forest she and her family lived in was in a constant haze. Luckily, it meant she'd gotten used to the stuff at a young age, and navigating it was easier for her than wolves who weren't as accustomed ... obviously.

"Whatabout you? Ever seen fire for yerself?"

Smoke.

Huh. “Yeah, guess so. Bad air, that shit. If that’s what you call it, then yeah.”

And just like that, Reyes had a translation for the word. Hadn’t asked, received it all the same. The youth was met with a vaguely suspicious look; already, he could tell this one was going to be a talker. (Not unlike Ember, he had to assume, but right now he had bigger problems. Namely, a fire. A fire was bad news no matter who you were. Wolf. Elk. Even the grass and the trees were going to suffer for it. If safety came at the cost of his continued longanimity, and so help him, was he ever patient with these wolves, then so be it.)

“‘course I seen fire, chica. Plenty of that shit came ‘round where I’m from. South. Way south of here. Dry, and flat. All it takes is one lightning strike and-- Boom. Todo se convierte en humo.”

Her phrasing occurred to Reyes just then, and the swarthy male tipped his head to one side as his pale gaze slowly shifted from the darkening sky back to the young wolf. He hummed, brows furrowing as he studied her. “You ever see it, fire? That shit ain’t good for nobody, comprende?”

Shallow water has trapped several fish in a small pond. Hunt Opportunity

South, he said. He came from way south. This was the furthest she'd come this way, and she felt a little uncultured to have such little travelling distance covered. Perhaps, some day, she'd go way south, and she the lightning fire in person. As terrifying as fire sounded, it was always curiosity that got the cat killed, and Lena was definitely one adventurous kitty cat.

His words suddenly turned to jibberish, and the tawny girl tilted her head. Had he breathed some of the smoke, some of the fumar, and let it get to his brain? It must have, because he asked her if she'd seen fire before. Didn't I just say I hadn't ...? She blinked once, twice, and then wrinkled her forehead. Maybe she was the one who inhaled the smoke and was getting foggy thoughts.

She shook her head, partially to dislodge the gas she imagined floating around her brain, and to answer his question. "Never seen it, but ... I reckon, from what I've been told, it's far from good for yer health." Lena frowned, turned her head to the side. "Heard it burns. And it hisses at you. S'what my ma said, at least." She pawed at the ground before hoisting herself closer to the water's edge, sniffing at the water. "She always said if ya get caught in a forest fire, then water is yer safest bet."

Lena flopped down into the lake, submerging her body in it so that her head, neck and the tops of her shoulders peaked out above the surface, even if the waves came rolling slowly in. "So I reckon, we'd be safe right here, yeah?"

(This post was last modified: Sep 17, 2016, 05:15 PM by Lena.)

“Uh huh. Your ma’s a smart lady,” Reyes replied easily enough, his tail swishing behind him. He’d never been burned by a fire before, but had certainly gotten close enough to feel the heat against his skin, underneath his dark fur. Whiskers prickled, skin hurt. He’d never touch it. Seen what it did to the plants, seen charred bones afterwards – didn’t need to experience it first hand to know what danger it was.

But, like he said – Lena’s mother seemed like a wise wolf. Water was the safest bet, always. Watching as the younger wolf waded into the water, he raised a brow. He’d only just taken a bath himself…but the yearling made a fair point. It was probably a safe place to be, even if the smoke was coming from far north. With any luck, it’d burn itself out long before it made its way down to Reyes’ current home.

“Hey, chica – what’s your name?” he asked, wading after the small female. If nothing else, the cool waves felt nice against his coat, slowly thickening as his winter coat began to grow in. “Or am I just gonna have to make something up for ya?” If he did – well, the stranger could be certain it’d be less than flattering.

"Mum ... yeah. Yeah, she is." Lena had to agree--her mother was definitely smart. She was intelligent, and gentle, and always knew what to say to calm down any tense situation. The girl's heart tensed, a homesickness brewing in her belly. It would passed, she figured. It would pass, and she could focus on the task at hand. Gathering proof.

He asked her name, called her chica. Some kind of nickname? Chica ... did she look like a little baby bird? Was it because she was younger than him? She didn't quite understand his odd turns of phrase, but she'd be a liar if she said she didn't indulge in spoken oddities herself--nicknames were always endearing and personal! Perhaps she'd made a good enough impression to earn some form of comradery with the male. After all, it seemed he agreed with her on her mother's information. She watched him wade into the lake to join her in the safety of the water. Her tail wagged, pleased that she'd recalled correctly that fire hated water, or something along those lines.

"Lena," she answered with a chipper tune. "Haven't you already technically made up something for me already? What was it y'said? Chica?" She paused, hummed thoughtfully. Maybe this "chica" word was similar to the word "fuma"--maybe it just meant something, but was said differently. Lena was hardly informed and educated on languages.

"What's it mean?" There was no shame in her question, not even a sense of gosh I must be silly to not know. He said he'd come from somewhere else, far away, so then they must definitely have different words for things, right? Now that she thought about it, it made a lot of sense. Different places had different words.

“Technically? Naw.” Reyes furrowed his brow slightly – seemed to be a common question, this. His mother’s tongue clearly wasn’t common in these parts; but then, he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of another Mexican wolf, either. It made him a little unsettled…but then again, when was the last time he’d held an entire conversation like a lobo would? Perhaps it was lost up here. Wasn’t like the wolves and their français further east. All the same, he missed his espanõl. He really did.

“Means ‘girl’. That’s it,” he rumbled, mouth twisting into a wry grin. Unless Lena considered such a thing to be a proper nickname, he hadn’t yet at all. Whatever he’d pick would be much meaner; generally, the tactic worked for getting names out of wolves. She didn’t ask for his in return, only the answer to his question – and yet. And yet.

If he didn’t get it, wasn’t it like he didn’t exist at all? If no one knew who you were?

“My name is Reyes, by the way.” If she cared. She’d better care, the permanently frustrated part of his mind growled, and the loner was careful to keep his hackles exactly as they were. He was procrastinating with all this dilatory chatter – wasn’t getting a damn thing out of it. “Look, enough of this chitchat, huh? Ain’t safe for either of us to linger. You got anywhere to go, kid?”