Whitewater — [AW] Chasing a dream

“Fat rain,” Quinn complained to the forest at large, his muzzle creasing as he dodged a generous drip that the canopy had failed to catch. He didn’t know why it made sense that there was fat rain and skinny rain. It was something he’d often heard from his siblings in the days before they’d scattered; it was possible it only made sense to him and his kin. That was a thought Quinn tried to veer away from before it could affect his mood - but the rush of nostalgia, punctuated by the dull pang of guilt, made him squeeze his eyes shut and take a deep breath at exactly the wrong moment.

Sploosh.

“Perf - wow - absolutely perfect,” the feathered wolf snorted through a sudden snoutful of water cold enough to make his teeth clash. It wasn’t often Quinn resented Ohr’s bounty or questioned his endless compassion but, as he furiously blinked rain out of his eyes, his hackles lifted. The feathers that lined his nape and tail flared and he raised his head, his jaws parting in a challenge to the insistent weather. With his vision obscured, it took Quinnat a few blinks to realise that there was something beyond the downpour.

A tall, still figure watched the wolf from a cluster of greenery, unmoved by the steady torrent hammering at his hide. Droplets clung to the ridges of the stag’s antlers like jewels. Its pelt was so white that Quinn could only stare for a few moments before he had to avert his eyes.

“Ohr.”

As if it had been the wolf’s gaze pinning it there, in the second he looked away the stag took off.

“Wait!”

Quinn sprang after the near luminous figure, paying little attention to the sharp slope he was hurtling down.

Ohr was unkind this day. The fat, splashing droplets mostly slid off Urna's oiled fur, but she still had to screw her eyes shut against the insistent, pinging spray. She should come back another time. Rainfall swelled the whitewater, sure, and often revealed interesting treasures long buried in the banks—but there was little use hunting for them while the water was still high. Her search for food had gone poorly, too; the abundant prey of the alpine forests must've been hunkered down (like she should've been), or hopelessly shrouded by the downpour. It was hard enough to even see through the rain, let alone smell or hear.

Urna ducked under the low-hanging branches of a conifer and entered the dark and mercifully tent-like space beneath its boughs. it was drier here, and quieter. She took the opportunity to shake out her coat with an unpleasant wet slapping noise. The tentacles on her back curled close against the chill.

Now, to press on homeward, or wait here for the rain to stop? She'd just started to circle the trunk, testing the spongy needles around its base—when a sound caught her attention. Urna lifted her head, her broad ears swiveling. ...Hoofbeats? Barely. It could have just been the click of branches in the wind.

And a voice. Maybe there was something interesting out there, after all. The hyena pushed her head back out through the damp fir branches and cast her eyes upslope—just in time to see a brightly-plumed wolf hurtling downhill towards her. With a snarl, she scrambled to get out of the way. "Watch where you're going!"

Urna rolled the dice.

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Character Diceroll 1: Successful
Diceroll must be above 500 to be successful.
0 was added for Dexterity.
533 was added for Level 2.
0 was added for A. No Enchantment.
9 was added for B. Homeland Buff.

Quinn’s paws joined the song of the rain at almost the same tempo as the torrent itself. He recalled running like this as a child, always keen to keep up with his siblings; he’d forgotten the thrill of it. Why hadn’t he run with abandon in what felt like years? Had there simply been nothing worth chasing? The Noble might’ve reflected on that more but his mind was working as fast as his limbs as he tried to figure out what he’d do if he actually, somehow, caught up to the gleaming-white stag.

“Woah - agh!!”

Quinn’s mind veered sharply off course as he galloped down a slope lined with firs. His legs followed suit a breath later, helping him skitter out of the way just in time to avoid a collision. But it was too late to prevent startling the figure camped out under the boughs and her snarl could’ve been a blade, it so effectively distracted the sprinting wolf from his pursuit of the pale stag. “Ah - I’m sorry - I’m just - it’s Ohr!”

At such a speed, putting a paw wrong had a knock-on effect which meant that to stop, Quinn had to throw his weight backwards. His claws slid against wet rock, sending a shudder down his spine, and still he hadn’t quite managed to halt. His feathers flared in an attempt to further slow him as the wind threatened to whip the pine boughs into his face.

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Success: avoids the branches
Failure: gets smacked in the face by a branch

Quinnat rolled the dice.

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Character Diceroll 1: Unuccessful
Diceroll must be above 500 to be successful.
0 was added for Dexterity.
479 was added for Level 2.
0 was added for A. No Enchantment.
6 was added for B. Homeland Buff.