OOC

AW — just outside Avon territory/nearby the border

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Montrose was on the hunt for a very particular, very slimy toad. He'd seen it most days, hopping in and out of puddles to keep its warty skin hydrated. Why did he want this toad? Well, ever since Mariposa had decided that she wanted a second skin, he had been observing the many fauna that inhabited Avon's territory. A determination to please her burned deep within the pits of his little chest.

The skin needed to be unique. But it also needed to be something he could feasibly catch with such small paws and even smaller teeth. Baby teeth were still sharp within his maw, though some of his adult dentition had finally begun to erupt.

Killing the toad would serve a couple of purposes.

A skin for Mariposa.

A teething toy for Montrose.

So he walked. And as he did, he hardly noticed that his hunt had taken him far farther from the dens than he'd intended. But soon, between the waving red flowers, he saw it. The toad, perched upon a rock in the direct sunlight, warming its ugly, warty skin.

Montrose would dip down, the red wine of his coat blending nearly seamlessly into the field of late-blooming florals. Tufted ears pressed forward, long canines softly bared as he began to creep forward. He moved as slowly as he could, careful on the loose terrain so that he wouldn't make ... a single ... sound ...

And those eyes, dancing with the pearlescence of the land's magic, would lock in on the toad.

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OOC

Leona —

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The wolf was as still as he could be, rose-gold pelt camouflaged so perfectly against the rows of crimson grass. The boy let his breathing steady — in and out, in and out — as his eyes harkened upon his warty nemesis.

It was all going according to plan.

Until something (well, someone) knocked into him. The force of the collision surprised him, a startled yip slipping from his jaws as he was shoved out of his hiding spot. The boy almost hit the ground, but managed just barely to get his feet beneath him in a scramble. The toad, of course, would notice the commotion and hop away, disappearing into the shallow stream and making quite an anticlimactic escape.

A childish snarl left his lips, dark edges curling into a harsh frown. His head would whip around, ears flat atop his dome as he gazed at the girl. Fire-and-ash danced across her pelt in a fascinating array of colors. He would have been impressed if he weren’t so irritated.

What was that for? He was frowning, turning to face her and puffing up his chest. They were about the same age, but she was clearly just big enough to be a klutz. You ever walked before? Sheesh. Montrose’s ears splayed to the side, gaze turning back for a moment toward the stream where his prey had disappeared into.

He sighed softly, gathering his composure before slowly turning back toward the girl. Silently, he sized her up, running his tongue over his little lips. Perhaps she could still be useful.

Seems fair you help me find another, don’t you think?

Finally, his tufted ears lifted, flicking toward her.

It was more of a demand than a suggestion.

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OOC

Leona  —

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The other child challenged him, rising in turn to her full height. A little growl escaped her lips, mirroring his own. She was a bit taller than him — (why was she so big, anyway?) — but that did not deter him from the challenge. If she thought that she was going to scare him, she had another thing coming.

The boy rolled his shoulders, flicking his nose in the air at her defiant “No!” The fire-coat showed her true colors, taking a bold stride toward him. Montrose did not back down, his own heat matching hers as he lifted his little hackles.

“It was an accident. You ever heard of it?”

She shook her head at him, like a disappointed adult.

He grimaced at the boom of her voice, still annoyed.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’ve… Never been here before…” The fire-marked would continue, and the apology caused Montrose to soften slightly, the edges of his hard lips melting. The boy decided to bide his anger and recalibrate his approach. S’okay, ye didn’t hurt me, he’d tell her once she’d finished her long-winded explanation about how bad she was at walking.

Been tryin’ to catch that frog for a bit is all, he admitted casually, flicking his ears backward toward the small stream. His hackles fell, his mouth moving into a more neutral position as he waved his tail. My sister’s been wantin’ one. She had sisters, right? She’d understand why he was so disappointed.

Who are ye, anyway? Montrose knew they had family to the North, but it did not cross his mind that this could be one of his kin. The boy often kept to himself, and he was plenty satisfied with the company of his sister and mother. Even the arrival of Fable’s new children did not excite him much.

The wolf would relax further, sinking into a gentle sit and wrapping his tail neatly over his paws. There was a regal air about him, despite his age and size. The sound of the trickling stream in the background was the only absent reminder he had about his lost prize.

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