Heartleaf Creek Tender

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The single silver bead began to slide languidly along the leaf’s waxy vein, clinging to the point before slipping and falling to the earth. On impact it exploded into a hundred smaller droplets, disappearing into one of the many puddles that riddled the ground. Her eyes blinked away a watery assault. She could have watched the rain saturate the world for the rest of the day. The feeling of being alone in a place as unfamiliar as this had become overwhelming; now, there was hardly any drive to take even a single step forward.

She was drenched and muddied clear up to her chest. Her limbs trembled from both fear and cold. Daylight was fading, and in a moment of near surrender her golden eyes—wide with apprehension—lifted to salmon-hued sky above. Just a few more hours, she pleaded with whatever forces that may be. Just a little more light and she could find somewhere safe and dry. Right? To her dismay the subtle prayers had gone unanswered. Lucero swallowed hard.

Things were more hopeless now than ever. What was she even doing? Sheets of rain cut through the forest’s canopy, and the force of a spring gust blew through the trees hard enough to make the thickest limbs sway. The air cut her face, and she winced away as a small cascade was flung from above down upon her narrow back. A raspy whine escaped her throat, but even her cry was swept away into the storm. Hesitantly she shuffled forward, cowering as a peal of thunder shook the world. It was too much. She could go no further. Every ounce of strength in her young and yet fragile body waned in the downpour, and the impending nightfall loomed over her like death.

(This post was last modified: Mar 12, 2013, 12:19 AM by Lucero.)

A fierce thunderstorm was upon him, and his pelt was flattened against his skin, having gotten drenched some time ago, and staying that way. Having been on his own for so long, storms didn't frighten him anymore. Considering Skittles tended to be afraid of everything, his calmness was perhaps a little baffling. But then again, lack of food could work a calm on anyone.

Skittles had thought he'd heard distant rumors of his mother, Snow, walking her last steps. His mother was a white wolf, and he'd always had intentions of one day seeing her again. But like everything else in his life, he'd never gotten around to it. As he wound his way through thick tree trunks, headed nowhere in particular, he thought he saw movement ahead. He steadied himself, comically poising one ear and one paw, and stared into the darkness. It was indeed a creature. Hoping for it to be something edible, he began to slink forwards towards it.

When he came near, he could see that it was no edible thing, but a four-footed creature with a long tail, two ears, and a snout. He shilly-shallied, pausing again, completely unsure what to do, but at last decided that because the creature looked like him, it must be related to him, and because it had a white coat, it must have been his mother.

He tried to stride forwards to the creature and attempted to "attach" himself to her, hoping to keep his shoulder beside her shoulder, and his hip to her hip, as if glued there. He remembered he had always tried to stay close to his mother as a wee pup, and it seemed like the appropriate thing to do at the time. He panted a little in the effort, his muzzle a smile of tiredness.

She winced from the feel of the cold, dirty water on her underbelly as she lowered her body to the ground. Today's events couldn't have unfolded in a less favorable way. A wave of exhaustion pulsed through her, and her sides rose and fell rapidly with each panicked breath sucked into her lungs.

Time passed in indiscernible increments. Eventually the feeling of hopelessness would be tempered, but her frustration wasn't. It was easy to contemplate a next step, something she could do to get out of this mess and on to a locale that was at least a bit drier, but putting a plan into action was like honey dripping down the side of a bee hive: painfully slow. Now and then she would use her fore paws to pull herself out of the deepening mud puddle, but each time the rain only continued to batter down around her, creating the same depression under her weight. Her ears folded sideways; as water ran down the sides of her muzzle and dribbled from her chin, she knew defeat.

But...when it seemed all was lost, the most unlikely kind of hope stumbled her. Quite literally, stumbled. The crunch of a twig in the distance gave him away, snapping her - at least momentarily - from her stupor. Anxiously her eyes swept the forest in the direction of the sound, and she caught a glimpse of the sandy-colored wolf coming right at her. She looked at her forelegs like doing so would give them the strength to stand. Nervously she trembled to her feet as he drew near, and out of fear her hackles rose. Her bulging yellow eyes plainly betrayed the defensive facade.

Why was he coming so close?! How badly she wanted to bolt out of there as fast as she possibly could. Fumbling on a twisted, mud-covered root, she faltered.

"Do-don't...don't c-come any cl-closer." She struggled to find her voice, which was hoarse as it rattled from her throat. She was terrified.

Skittle's mother had always been a basket case, full of anxieties and nonsense, but mostly hated to talk, hated when others talked, and especially hated when he talked. (Everyone seemed to hate when he talked) Of course, he didn't think that she was strange or odd in the slightest, and accepted all of her faults and misgivings far more than anyone else would; it was his mother, and he loved her. He only had one mother, and he would treat her well. And as the woman seemed frightened and panicked, Skittles decided that this was, indeed, surely his very own mother.

The woman seemed terrified enough, but at first, Skittles could only smile from ear to ear, so large that his face might not be able to contain all of his grin. His eyes displayed a gentleness that also seemed to lack intelligence. His tail began to twitch in the anxiety she'd shown, making him feel nervous just as she was. But the twitching tail grew wider and wider, until it was a helicopter wag of glee.

He couldn't help but give a guttural whine of excitement and happiness. He again tried to walk towards her, hoping to lean against her, his specialized version of a hug, and then to brush against her, to acquire her scent in his, which was his version of taking a loved one's clothing in order to smell them. But he'd have to get close to her first. He tried these things.

He said nothing, he knew better than to speak to his mother. Some of the scars from this lesson were still embedded into the skin on the top of his head, long covered by fur. Other scars, teethmarks, and markings from her various lessons had healed in his adolescence. His mother had never been a very careful or gentle mother, but he thought her the sweetest angel.

Her response of terror shifted to utter confusion. First the stranger waltzed right up to her, and now as she squirmed to put any length of space between them his face melted into the most unexpected expression: a wide, no-holds smile. Luce felt her own face pull into a grimace. Soon enough the wag of his tail was full force, and her eyes widened further now at his over all appearance - he looked so happy to see her. Not as if she were a feeble meal-to-be, but as if she'd brought him a present or was a lifelong playmate. While he wasn't an old man, he definitely wasn't as young as she was, but his demeanor was that of a child's.

"W-what do you want?"

The orange tones of his brown eyes stood out to her in the fading daylight, and while he was was what she felt to be dangerously close, there was a gentility to his...wild-eyed gaze. Either playing dumb was his way of getting close enough to kill her, or the poor guy was mad. At this point she didn't know which. Her ears folded sideways as she took an uneasy step back.

There was a voice, and it echoed in Skittles' ears, detached from anything else. It had been so long since he'd heard a voice that it took him some time to realize that voices conveyed words and meanings and messages. His brain set to work deciphering all this for him, but in the mean time, it tossed up every a comparison on every female he'd ever met. In fact, they all sounded exactly the same to one another, and even the same as the voice he now heard. Therefore... the voice must certainly have been his mothers.

He nodded his head vigorously, giving miniature bows with each excentric nod. Still he tried to get closer, to hug her from the side with just his pelt.

He remembered his mother grabbing him by the tail, the world upside down, and her snarling words. "What do we do before we enter the den all dirty?", his voice had been tiny, he was scared. "We greet our mother up and down, or else we get turned upside down.", his head had begun to pound from the rush of it to his temples. The memory faded away. He must greet her, he had to.

"Wuff.", he tried to make out words but produced a strange sound. He whined now, anxious, disquieted, and eager to please his mother. But the words were not right. "Mama.", he tried again.

He now tried all the harder to make his way to her, so that he could hug her.

As if the encounter hadn't been strange enough, it took another awkward turn. Closer and closer the stranger came, and further and further she tried to go. It wasn't working. Why couldn't she make a run for it, disappear into the forest with all of her fears and not without leaving this particular memory? Her body felt frozen in place, but something else kept her there, too...There was something about the body language of the deranged sandy wolf, a gleam in his dense brown eyes. Despite how scared she really was, it was her dripping, young heart that kept her in place. And exhaustion, of course.

Maybe if she let him close enough he would leave her be. Or, maybe he would rip her head off.

At this point she was unsure and figuratively gasping for air to breathe.

"Mama." The rainfall pounded down against the forest around them so intensely that she knew she'd heard wrong. This man had to be at least twice her age - he had to be mad! Shaking her ash stroked head decisively, she looked upon him with curious horror. "I'm not-" "I'm not your-"

Pity washed over her. Poor guy. What if he was all alone out here, like she was? Did he miss his mother, or need her? Luce herself was hardly old enough to be anyone's mother, but in the moment she wondered if she could be. For him. If he needed one. This was crazy. Squeezing her golden eyes tightly and turning her head as if bracing for an avalanche, she put herself out there, ready for what she could only guess he would do to her now.

♥ Allie

(This post was last modified: Mar 15, 2013, 07:53 PM by Lucero.)

This entire series of events had happened once before, to a bear cub that looked suspiciously like a wolf, and with disastrous results. But this time, Skittles tried harder. He missed his mother, and he felt that this was her. She needed him, now. His mother had always been frail. confused, and violent, and now he could help her.

She had continued to back up, and started to say some Confusing Words, for which his brain tried to rattle off an explanation but only resulted in language syntax errors. He had no idea what she had said, only her boggled tone could give him hints. When she had finished backing up, he felt that she finally understood who he was, and he breathed an audible sigh of relief and an even bigger smile.

He continued his advance and landed his body against hers, standing next to her, his shoulders against hers, his hips against hers.

"Hidey-holes keep us dry, hidey-holes keep us spry, hidey-holes are good for all who wish to keep themselves wise.", he said to her, his words half-song, and half mantra. His eyes had little sense of thought or being in them.

He tried to lead her forwards, acting as if she were not a separate entity but his very own shadow. If when he lifted a foot, hers did not immediately copy, he would look confused at her.

"Cherry Orchard.", he added, as if it explained everything. He had been there before and found a den for himself.


OOC: if you feel bored, feel free to end that Skittles takes her to the Cherry Orchard and they spend the night in a cozy den.

(This post was last modified: Mar 14, 2013, 05:22 PM by Skittles.)

That sounds just fine to me :) If you'd like to throw one more post in after this one we can claim our LP, too.

The brush of his fur against her made her own stand straight up on end. Her jaws clenched together and without even thinking of anything except how strange this was she grabbed at the saturated dirt with her toes. The stranger then proceeded to touch his body to hers, shoulders first, then hips, and...that was it. She cast him a sideways glance, which was nearly all she could do as his face was so close that she couldn't turn her head if she'd wanted. From his spiel - which confirmed her suspicions that this one was completely off his rocker - she discerned something about a hole and the word dry, and the mention of a cherry orchard. Quite honestly she didn't know what to make of any of it until he stepped forward.

Perfect. He wanted to lead her somewhere. Maybe this wasn't so scary after all, and the thought of not facing the night alone was hopeful. Where he might take her she didn't know, and she was well aware that it may not be somewhere she wanted to be. But the rain poured down, and she looked to the sandy old man with a delicate gleam to her still wide eyes. Get me out of here, they begged; surely he could understand. Less reluctantly than her battered pride would have it, Luce gathered up the last of her strength and followed the stranger's lead, ready to leave this all behind.

♥ Allie

(This post was last modified: Mar 15, 2013, 07:59 PM by Lucero.)

The woman whom he was convinced was his mother was now quiet and somber, saying nothing, and seeming to do nothing, as if having folded into to his demands to comfort her. It was exactly like how his mother would act. Except that she didn't snap and snarl at him, nor was there a gnashing of her teeth to his snout for some minor misgiving. Instead, there was only rain, and the sound of the wind through the trees.

He had begun to walk now, slowly at first until he felt sure that she was following, and then quickly. He had no more desire to be soaked than she did, despite already being chilled to the bone. The journey wasn't long at all, and at last, the orchard loomed. He quickly found his way to a tree in the middle of other trees, seated on an awkward hill that more resembled a hump than anything else. He went around it, and paused, pointing his nose towards the dark opening of an earthy den he'd burrowed beneath the sturdy roots and soft earth. It was big enough for two, and a little more.

He shook himself off, entered the burrow den, and curled himself up. He exaggerated a yawn and blinked his eyes sleepily as if to demonstrate how one utilized a den. And then he pat-patted the earth next to him to further emphasize the notion that she should come lay down in the dry sanctuary below the rain. There was a saying that one could lead a horse to water, but not make it drink. Skittles knew this too well with his mother, so, he let himself fall asleep, not staying awake long enough to see what choice the lady had made - probably the den.

... zzzz...

fade out, end

(This post was last modified: Mar 19, 2013, 07:22 AM by Skittles.)