2/7/2025, 2:11 AM
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Title: 'Treehouse' — Alex G., Emily Yacina
Skill: N/A
Title: 'Treehouse' — Alex G., Emily Yacina
Skill: N/A
The world appeared to be dramatically larger and far more daunting when you were a young pup. Lugh had hardly ever put himself in another's shoes, let alone into one of a young canine—to be thrust into the point of view of a little wolf was jarring, to say quite the least.
Round eyes filled with guarded curiosity, Lugh stumbled about through the frost-laden woodlands on his stubby limbs. He would never stray far from Epona , of course—but as if it were made out of magnets, his nose was tugged towards the forest floor with an unneglectable desire. The young boy snuffled around the leaf litter, short ears swiveling like radars on his head. Finally, as he sauntered to the edge of the clearing, Lugh found a curious scent along the forest floor.
His legs gained an itch to run, the fuzzy tail by his rump began to wag to and fro with rigor. His instinct could not be fought against, as much as his intuition screamed at him—and as quickly as his little legs could carry him, Lugh began to gallop away, following the scent trail into the forest—and further from his mother.
His high-spirited running eventually slowed to a halt, and Lugh was out of breath. Jaw hung agape, his tongue lolling out from between a set of razor-sharp teeth as he panted heavily to regain his composure. The smell was so strong now—and rather abhorrent. The pup's muzzle creased along the top with an indignant huff. Whatever he was following, it must be nearby—and very stinky.
A mere few steps was all that he needed to find out that he was right. The source of the smell was nearby—a scrawny creature, holding the limp form of a vole. Its beady eyes turned to look at Lugh, and the youth froze. The only sound he could hear now was the accelerating beat of his heart.
A coyote. Far smaller than his mother, but much larger than himself. A short, uncertain whine tittered in his throat. Lugh began to fearfully shuffle back, stumbling on occasion between his little steps. The creature was daunting, with big sharp teeth and a long thin snout.
The tawny canid was disinterested—but Lugh didn't stay long enough to make such a discovery. Before the coyote had a chance to react much the pup's appearance, he high-tailed it out from the thicket, running who-knows-where in who-knows-which direction. Wherever he went, he prayed that there would be no coyotes.
Much similarly to moments prior did his pace fall from over-exertion. He slumped upon his haunches, flank heaving with deep, sharp breaths. It seemed there was little to worry about now, only—
...where was Mother?
Lugh rose back up, scrutinizing the area for the somewhat familiar meadow. His crown canted back and his nostrils twitched, seeking out the comforting aroma of his dear mother—but nothing. Nothing save for the unfamiliar stench of local flora.
Lugh was lost in this unknown realm. Without his mother, without his father—with nothing of any sort of familiarity. His breath hitched and tears burned his eyes. 'No, I'm too tough to cry!' He scolded himself inwardly with a futile attempt to stop the droplets that threatened to fall from his eyes. Lugh curled up into a tight little ball, flank pressed against the broad trunk of a pine tree, and sniffled piteously.
Round eyes filled with guarded curiosity, Lugh stumbled about through the frost-laden woodlands on his stubby limbs. He would never stray far from Epona , of course—but as if it were made out of magnets, his nose was tugged towards the forest floor with an unneglectable desire. The young boy snuffled around the leaf litter, short ears swiveling like radars on his head. Finally, as he sauntered to the edge of the clearing, Lugh found a curious scent along the forest floor.
His legs gained an itch to run, the fuzzy tail by his rump began to wag to and fro with rigor. His instinct could not be fought against, as much as his intuition screamed at him—and as quickly as his little legs could carry him, Lugh began to gallop away, following the scent trail into the forest—and further from his mother.
His high-spirited running eventually slowed to a halt, and Lugh was out of breath. Jaw hung agape, his tongue lolling out from between a set of razor-sharp teeth as he panted heavily to regain his composure. The smell was so strong now—and rather abhorrent. The pup's muzzle creased along the top with an indignant huff. Whatever he was following, it must be nearby—and very stinky.
A mere few steps was all that he needed to find out that he was right. The source of the smell was nearby—a scrawny creature, holding the limp form of a vole. Its beady eyes turned to look at Lugh, and the youth froze. The only sound he could hear now was the accelerating beat of his heart.
A coyote. Far smaller than his mother, but much larger than himself. A short, uncertain whine tittered in his throat. Lugh began to fearfully shuffle back, stumbling on occasion between his little steps. The creature was daunting, with big sharp teeth and a long thin snout.
The tawny canid was disinterested—but Lugh didn't stay long enough to make such a discovery. Before the coyote had a chance to react much the pup's appearance, he high-tailed it out from the thicket, running who-knows-where in who-knows-which direction. Wherever he went, he prayed that there would be no coyotes.
Much similarly to moments prior did his pace fall from over-exertion. He slumped upon his haunches, flank heaving with deep, sharp breaths. It seemed there was little to worry about now, only—
...where was Mother?
Lugh rose back up, scrutinizing the area for the somewhat familiar meadow. His crown canted back and his nostrils twitched, seeking out the comforting aroma of his dear mother—but nothing. Nothing save for the unfamiliar stench of local flora.
...mama?his voice was quiet, but quivering.
Mama?He meandered about the area, gaze flicking back and forth. The volume of his voice rose with a sharp crescendo.
Mama, where are ye'? Mama!!He wanted to run, to sprint through the woodlands and find her again; but his legs were already aching from the little escapade, and his eyes rose to make the harrowing discovery that the sun was beginning to set.
Lugh was lost in this unknown realm. Without his mother, without his father—with nothing of any sort of familiarity. His breath hitched and tears burned his eyes. 'No, I'm too tough to cry!' He scolded himself inwardly with a futile attempt to stop the droplets that threatened to fall from his eyes. Lugh curled up into a tight little ball, flank pressed against the broad trunk of a pine tree, and sniffled piteously.