fragile existance
#1
Zana had been sitting in her tree stringing the tails of the rattlesnakes high in the branches, the trill of the rattles in the winds was slightly creepy to a bystander but to Zana they were a sound like no other, a warning and a threat just the same. Her ears alert to the area as she flicked one of the rattles with a claw, the rat-a-tat sound that echoed in the breeze bringing a grim smile to her lips as she put away the string and small knife before raising her eyes to gaze at the woods about her.

The smallest member of the clan had little reason to leave her den today though she knew that soon enough she would need to to walk the borders. She almost thought it a joke that she should have anything to do with the protection of the clan. She was a mere morsel to the eyes of a wolf, her small stature and lack of knowledge in fighting making her seem even more pathetic than she already felt. The only weapon she had was the small set of darts and her collections of poisons. She knew that they made her a deadly enemy but she was still tiny in their eyes.

The little girl had slowly taken the knife out again and had removed one of the pieces of the whale's ribcage that she'd removed a few days past. She smiled as she began to crack a large sliver out of the bone to begin to widdle down to a slim sleek needle, a new dart for her wooden peashooter. She was beginning to contemplate hollowing out a new shooter as well. She knew it would be a lot of work but she had all the time on her paws that she handle.
#2
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     Since Siobhan’s departure, Ezekiel had completely cleaned out his den. Any and all trace of the white coyote were gone. Now it was lined with tall grass and items stolen from the mansion—a set of knives, a blanket, and the collection of books he had long-been acquiring. Though he was trained and built for the Hydra position, Ezekiel continued his medical practice diligently. He was not able to work on much, but did what he could. These things kept him content when the solitude hit. Perhaps for this reason he worked himself to exhaustion.
     After crisscrossing the areas that he expected to find Cwmfen in, only to turn up empty handed, he was returning home. His stomach was rumbling, and he intended to find some source of nourishment. This plan was interrupted by a peculiar noise, one that made his ears swivel to the top of his head and the fur along his shoulders to stand on end. Except the sound was unnatural, and not similar to the one that rattlesnakes actually made. The wind, after all, was not strong enough for such a thing.
     What he found was a sight that made his head cock almost humorously to the side. The girl he had found months ago was carving a piece of bone amongst hanging rattlesnake tales. And, perhaps most curious of all, she had barely grown since he had seen her last. “Zana?”
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#3
The small rusty gold yearling had been busy sharpening the small bit of bone into a deadly tool when the sound of her name caught her attention. Pausing in her work she placed the needle and knife down upon the ground and peered over the edge of the sturdy limb as she caught sight of Ezekiel. Her ears pricked forward in interest she called back. "Ezekiel, what do you want?" Her voice not at all hinting at annoyance. She disappeared for a second, quickly gathering her things up in the sling she wore across her chest before scaling the tree almost squirrel like before landing on the ground beside Ezekiel.

The dusting that swirled around her when her small delicate paws landed upon the ground settled on her fur as she now peered up at the male who had found her on the borders of the lands. One ear ticked slightly as she realized how much larger the family member before her was than she. Wringing her hands slightly she asked, "Where Siobhan?" she had not seen the girl in a while and though once they had been at eachother's throats in time that had ended an a timid friendship had begun.
#4
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     The girl moved like an animal who had evolved to live in trees. This was not surprising—her size was, though. She looked no different then she had the day he had found her on the beach. Except, for perhaps, the viciousness that now lingered in her face. Of course, a ferocity that was overpowering and terrible overcame his own at the mention of Siobhan. “She left,” he nearly spat, and could not hide the growl that rumbled deep in his throat.
     “What are you doing?” It was obvious she was working on something, but the shape was still far from finished. The red-streaked male settled onto his haunches, scarred eye squinting as the sun broke through the clouds.
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