a place to fly and a place to land
#1
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Super short! Lupus form, Moonstone Lakes. Sorry for taking forever to get this up. ;__;


The vanilla-tawny coywolf dipped her muzzle into the small pond, closing her eyes as she lapped up water to soothe her dry throat. The summer had its stormy days, but a few times the heat and dryness was more than she could deal with. Luckily, her coat was thin and scruffy (compared to most coats of her parent species), and she knew the lay of the land well enough to find water whenever she needed it.

In this case, it was a cluster of lakes south of the cavern-dwelling pack, connected by spidery streams and edged with blueberry bushes. Some of the foliage hid surprises—a foundation here, a rusted husk there—but this was one place where the wilderness had reclaimed all the relics of rural humanity. Although she’d gotten used to the sight of roads all her life, she preferred her woods unpolluted by the trace of man. After all, they were dead, and by that logic, their crap should stay dead too.

Vesper had ceased exploring the homes sheltered by their leafy integuments, and now she reclined on the pebbly beach of the pond she drank from. On the other side of the water, she could see some ducks bobbing for food, but otherwise there was not a soul in sight. She stretched her forepaws out and let her toes rest in the water, her thoughts smoothly sailing away.


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#2
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We Get Back Up Again…


Out of vacation mode and stoked for this thread! *game face* lol


Optimism – that was the one thing Ester’s mother had taught her she needed to always have with her. ‘Hold your head high,’ she’d told her, ‘and always believe that Fate is on your side, because eventually it will be.’ Of course, it was hard to be optimistic when she never knew where her next meal would come from or if the weather would let her have one more night of peaceful rest. But she held her head high nonetheless – she was too short to see anything if she let it sag anyway.

At least, Ester thought, she’d found herself in a beautiful crook of the forest that morning. The lakes stretched across the land in glittering patches, some tapering off to babbling brooks and others swelling in size until they tumbled over one another and formed tumultuous rapids. She could at least stop to get a drink here and perhaps snatch up a fish, or…was that duck she could smell through the tall grass?

As her jowls trapped enough saliva to fill a tub, Ester padded toward the smell for a closer look. Her tail twitched energetically behind her, and her warm eyes darted about as if they were racing to find the birds before she did. A nasally ‘quack’ tugged her in the right direction, and in her excitement she lunged blindly from her cover in the grass. Her slim body flailed before plopping into the lake like a heavy stone, and the ducks disappeared in a flurry of feathers and frightened cries. A dripping, cranky-faced Ester suddenly poked her head above the surface and began paddling toward the shore that stretched before her, grumbling curses under her breath. It wasn’t until she staggered onto land, sheepish and shivering, that she noticed the other she-yote lounging merely a stone’s throw away. Wonderful, she thought, first I lose my lunch, and now I get to pray that this canine didn’t see me make a fool of myself.


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#3
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Welcome back! And I'm lazy, so this is short again. >>


Blue eyes half closed, and a narrow muzzle succumbed to gravity until it rested on scarred legs. Only an occasionally twitching ear showed that the coywolf was still alert, but for all intents and purposes, she might have had dozed off. Truthfully, this was about as close to sleeping as she’d allow herself in neutral territory; she didn’t think, only lay and observed, felt the sunlight on her pelt or smelled the grass or heard a splash in the lake ahead.

Vesper lifted her head, her ear swiveling forward as she watched ripples spread out from where the group of ducks was flapping for safety, quacking and squabbling as they transitioned from water to sky. Amused, she drew her forelegs underneath her and sat up, leaning forward slightly as she saw a drenched tan head bob up from the water. The failed hunter paddled forward, and quickly the scarred hybrid reclaimed her casual posture, lolling half on her side and pretending that she hadn’t noticed as the stranger—a coyote—pulled herself onto the shore.

“Nice day for a swim?” the Centurion asked, not even looking at the other. A smirk twitched her lips and threatened to betray her laughter.


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