Rikyn

As Duir and I watch the wolves, others come, earning an approving smile from me as they each settle into place. I know almost all of them, except one, who I think is our Weaver (so it’s probably not in my favor to not know her). Trying to meet her eyes, I wonder just what sort of person she is, in comparison to the others who have arrived. Toulouse, slender and slinking as the snake he keeps for companionship, and Glasgow, seemingly more frightful than she truly was, have already revealed small tidbits about themselves which lead me to trust them, as much as someone who trusts no one can, anyway. As Lou points out the raven which raucously calls out, I tilt my eyes upwards to the pair of black birds with a smile; I have an idea who the ravens might be, knowing only two in the Basin with a penchant for the large, clever birds, and Phrixus was white, not black. Still, I enjoy a good game, and can’t blame the woman for not wanting to be easily caught, like us land dwelling creatures will be, if the wolf situation turns sour.

"If they try to fly away, follow them," I quietly answer with a glimmering eye and knowing smile, winking at the twin birds, before returning my gaze to Toulouse with that grin wiped away for an expression of seriousness, befitting a death sentence, "can’t have unwanted spies among us, after all."

Inside, I’m choking back laughter. Maybe my lips twitch a little bit, but I think I manage to pull it off. I’m so distracted with pretending like Weaver and her pet are more a threat to us than the obvious danger of wolves that Oizys, in a wolf body herself, manages to sweep in alongside me unnoticed.

"Ah-fuck!" I mutter-shout, not wanting to announce our presence to the wolves, but certainly shocked by the sudden appearance of enemy number one alongside me; stepping aside with wide eyed surprise, my golden orbs narrow when the wolf speaks. Oizys?! Snorting, I shove at her fluffy, smaller figure with my own in a friendly sort of way, assuming by her brusque nature that she won’t mind the physical contact or rough housing too much. "You can’t sneak up on people like that, Oizys. I could have tried to kill you or something."

Our conversation is cut short by the most horrible sound I’ve ever heard. Horses and unicorns can’t puke, so I’ve never heard anything like this, except that one time I caught Kyst up-chucking a wet, gooey ball of fur and bone that looked like a fuzzy piece of… never-mind. What matters is that a similar, but one-thousand times worse sound is coming from the yipping pup vicinity of the clearing. Looking back over with horror writ across my face, that terror expounds tenfold as the purpose of the erratic cheek licking reveals itself to also be the source of the awful gagging.

The adult wolves are synchronized vomiting sticky, blood riddled meat all over the ground, which, apparently, looks like a meadow full of a green clover to wolf pups. With eager growls and equally grotesque slurps, the fur-balls besiege the goopy piles of meat-puke with hungry gulps and snaps, occasionally rearing their heads back to savagely shake the meat shreds back and forth, leaving smears of flesh across their cheeks.

Not sure how long my mouth as been open, I barely manage to close it as I look back down at Oizys.

"You sure you wanna go help now?" I ask, trying to make the best of a truly appalling situation with humor.

[ OOC: As promised, a random roll for a small artwork by me was done, as the opening post for this thread was Rikyn’s 475th! Oizys rolled for the win. Congrats Snow. :DDD ]