8 hours ago
It has occurred to her - perhaps once or a billion times - in the past few days that she had not an inkling of how to find her family.
She did not even know what they looked like; Ffionn entertained the idea that Fleta would be her mirror image, though likely with a more sunny outward disposition compared to herself. But without a large reflective surface, she really couldn't even see what she looked like... so how was she supposed to know Fleta if she saw her?
Moreover, it mattered little if she died of dehydration or hunger first.
Her mouth was tacky and Ffionn's stomach long gave up on its complaints for sustenance. Luckily, she had some familiarity with edible plants and managed to find meager offerings to keep her from succumbing entirely to lack of food. Truthfully, she hadn't tried to hunt because she had yet to come to grips with the mouth-watering desire for blood that flew in the face of her vegetarian lifestyle prior to appearing in Mythris. A distant, nagging part of her mind knew she would eventually buckle to baser instincts, but she was intent upon fighting it every step of the way until that point.
In her ill-fated trek through the dappled woodlands, Ffionn caught the sound of running water, though its whispered babbling suggested it was not an impressive body. But most water led to a source, unless it was underground and, at this point, she would take any water at all. Maybe she could find where it emptied out and its delta would offer her more tubers or other plants she could eat.
She just had to follow it, right?
On paws that remained ill-fitting in their newness to her, Ffionn plucked along a trail at the water's edge. She clumsily navigated undergrowth and vegetation that sprawled into her path, somehow managing to slap herself in the face with almost every branch or creeping vine she passed. It was an art form, really.
By the time the sound of the other wolf's footsteps reached her ears, it was already too late. She crossed the next tangle of roots and newly sprouted trees who chose their homes poorly and, unwittingly, stepped right into the splash zone for the stranger's impromptu dip in the creek. It wasn't a gargantuan amount of water, but the shock of it left her standing stiff-legged and her dripping face morphed into wide-eyed shock. Tufted ears, sodden edges flopping over with the weight of their watery passengers, were held to the sides of her head as confusion wove itself through her.
Her breath stalled briefly before she recovered in bits and pieces.
Ffionn's eyes landed on the other and she slowly maneuvered the scene's fragments around the metaphorical board, determining something close to a story.
Clearly, the other wolf was swimming, but they didn't notice how shallow the water was.
As soon as the words left her, she felt waves of embarrassment roll over her. Of course they could tell they couldn't swim in that - anyone with any sort of clarity at all would know.
Her throat bobbed nervously. She had to fix this - she could definitely socially finesse her way out of this. Ffionn's gaze was still round and glued on Orpheus, though not with fear.
She nodded mechanically, perfunctory, as if to double down on the observation even as the familiar keening buzz of anxiety rang in her eardrums.
She did not even know what they looked like; Ffionn entertained the idea that Fleta would be her mirror image, though likely with a more sunny outward disposition compared to herself. But without a large reflective surface, she really couldn't even see what she looked like... so how was she supposed to know Fleta if she saw her?
Moreover, it mattered little if she died of dehydration or hunger first.
Her mouth was tacky and Ffionn's stomach long gave up on its complaints for sustenance. Luckily, she had some familiarity with edible plants and managed to find meager offerings to keep her from succumbing entirely to lack of food. Truthfully, she hadn't tried to hunt because she had yet to come to grips with the mouth-watering desire for blood that flew in the face of her vegetarian lifestyle prior to appearing in Mythris. A distant, nagging part of her mind knew she would eventually buckle to baser instincts, but she was intent upon fighting it every step of the way until that point.
In her ill-fated trek through the dappled woodlands, Ffionn caught the sound of running water, though its whispered babbling suggested it was not an impressive body. But most water led to a source, unless it was underground and, at this point, she would take any water at all. Maybe she could find where it emptied out and its delta would offer her more tubers or other plants she could eat.
She just had to follow it, right?
On paws that remained ill-fitting in their newness to her, Ffionn plucked along a trail at the water's edge. She clumsily navigated undergrowth and vegetation that sprawled into her path, somehow managing to slap herself in the face with almost every branch or creeping vine she passed. It was an art form, really.
By the time the sound of the other wolf's footsteps reached her ears, it was already too late. She crossed the next tangle of roots and newly sprouted trees who chose their homes poorly and, unwittingly, stepped right into the splash zone for the stranger's impromptu dip in the creek. It wasn't a gargantuan amount of water, but the shock of it left her standing stiff-legged and her dripping face morphed into wide-eyed shock. Tufted ears, sodden edges flopping over with the weight of their watery passengers, were held to the sides of her head as confusion wove itself through her.
Her breath stalled briefly before she recovered in bits and pieces.
Ffionn's eyes landed on the other and she slowly maneuvered the scene's fragments around the metaphorical board, determining something close to a story.
Clearly, the other wolf was swimming, but they didn't notice how shallow the water was.
Ye can't swim in that,she offered in little more than a mumble, but the words weren't spoken in judgement or any sort of duplicity - they were earnest, if hesitant.
It's too shallow.
As soon as the words left her, she felt waves of embarrassment roll over her. Of course they could tell they couldn't swim in that - anyone with any sort of clarity at all would know.
Her throat bobbed nervously. She had to fix this - she could definitely socially finesse her way out of this. Ffionn's gaze was still round and glued on Orpheus, though not with fear.
Those are nice feathers,she blurted, trying to divert from his lack of swimming prowess, or at least which waters were good for swimming, and instead remark on the feathers stashed in his paler fur.
They're... feathery. Very nice.
She nodded mechanically, perfunctory, as if to double down on the observation even as the familiar keening buzz of anxiety rang in her eardrums.
Very cool,she hastily added.