Delta had never swam this stream before. The water here was clear, at least; much clearer so than the muddy rapids further east.
It was a little thing, probably no more than a trickle when the summer heat came to sap its strength, but the rains of autumn had fattened it to a proper channel which snaked off from the main southern river and allowed the aquatic feline further access inland. The few fish that followed its sluggish current were translucent and tiny, hardly more than mouthfuls for Delta as he snapped his jaws around their sparse schoolings. Occasionally he'd beat his fins and push off from the stream's bottom, peering his eyes over the water's surface to catch glimpses of starlight between the tall tree branches. Previously, he'd only caught sight of the brightwood's southern edge from safety in the water, but an nervous excitement squeezed in his chest as he slid further into the unfamiliar territory. Perhaps he'd risk a little more time here to see it during daylight when the colors really shone.
Whatever thoughts he had on the matter were swiftly interrupted by a heavy rustling; not from the foliage far above, but down to the ground where he'd be in danger. Instinctually he dove, vanishing beneath the dark water with only a flash of his dorsal fins to betray him. The earth was unforgiving and cruel, even more so than his home in the open ocean; on land he was practically defenseless. He hoped Tsillah found pride in his cunning adapting to the inland rivers instead.
For several minutes he stayed under again, slinking along the stream's bottom and stretching his gills with fresh, icy water. In the dark he was safe, but he saw nothing of the beautiful forest around him. The dim moonlight which glinted off the waves above betrayed no shadows looming overhead, and his paws itched to push off the mud and rise to glimpse the silvery trees again. He chewed worriedly at the inside of his cheek, whiskers waving and feeling the current of the stream as he fought between the urge to peer above the water again, or to stay hidden.
Slowly, Delta rose again and unpinned his rounded ears. He swiveled them back and forth between the burbling brook and wind whistling through the branches above, but the rustling was gone. He breathed in relief, eyes slowly adjusting to the moonlight as he flared his nostrils and forced the water from his airways with a huff. It smelled of old leaves and birch, sweet and airy compared to the ocean's heavy handedness. The air carried scents so differently, it could be hard for him the parse the more distant ones. Perhaps that was why it took him so long to catch the faint tang of blood.
It was sour and stale, and almost mistaken for the rotting of logs as Delta opened his mouth and tasted the air for a better grasp of it. The closest he could link it to was rot, but it wasn't putrid, and the wind carried it in such a way it seemed to be in motion. He almost dove beneath the water again when movement twisted further in the trees, and the fur along his haunches spiked as the current drove him closer and the scent of iron only grew stronger. It moved as if it were hurt, strange and jerkily, with some sort of strange, dirtied masses dragging alongside it. It looked almost like a sort of giant bird, enough so that Delta reached towards the bank and dug his claws into the soil to keep himself from getting closer.
The smart thing to do would be avoiding it entirely. The land was full of strange, hungry creatures that had certainly attempted to snap him up on more than one occasion. But they'd never smelled so...
...it smelled of wolf, not of bird or beast. Delta didn't speak much to wolves, not at all really, but they were not wild creatures. They thought and worshipped and lived, not as monsters, but as creatures like he and that of the ocean. And this one, from what he could smell, and from the motions of its strange silhouette, had something wrong with it. Still, all Delta could see of it was a flitting shadow moving further from the stream, and a shudder rolled down his fins at the thought of leaving the water's safety to venture after it. His curiosity was peaked, and if it were hurt-well he was no healer, but perhaps he could sooth its journey to Tsillah.
Delta hesitantly sunk his other paw into the bank, digging his claws in and giving a sharp pump of his fins for leverage as he heaved his upper body out onto the gravel. His gills sputtered, a cough breaking through his lungs as his body instinctually forced water out in favor of air. Such a call to attention was dangerous, but he was already going to make himself known so it may be for the better.
"Wolf," he garbled, voice strange and nasally. He strained himself to be heard above the faint stream, though his legs tensed in anticipation of having to throw himself back into the water's safety. "Are you hurt?"
It was a little thing, probably no more than a trickle when the summer heat came to sap its strength, but the rains of autumn had fattened it to a proper channel which snaked off from the main southern river and allowed the aquatic feline further access inland. The few fish that followed its sluggish current were translucent and tiny, hardly more than mouthfuls for Delta as he snapped his jaws around their sparse schoolings. Occasionally he'd beat his fins and push off from the stream's bottom, peering his eyes over the water's surface to catch glimpses of starlight between the tall tree branches. Previously, he'd only caught sight of the brightwood's southern edge from safety in the water, but an nervous excitement squeezed in his chest as he slid further into the unfamiliar territory. Perhaps he'd risk a little more time here to see it during daylight when the colors really shone.
Whatever thoughts he had on the matter were swiftly interrupted by a heavy rustling; not from the foliage far above, but down to the ground where he'd be in danger. Instinctually he dove, vanishing beneath the dark water with only a flash of his dorsal fins to betray him. The earth was unforgiving and cruel, even more so than his home in the open ocean; on land he was practically defenseless. He hoped Tsillah found pride in his cunning adapting to the inland rivers instead.
For several minutes he stayed under again, slinking along the stream's bottom and stretching his gills with fresh, icy water. In the dark he was safe, but he saw nothing of the beautiful forest around him. The dim moonlight which glinted off the waves above betrayed no shadows looming overhead, and his paws itched to push off the mud and rise to glimpse the silvery trees again. He chewed worriedly at the inside of his cheek, whiskers waving and feeling the current of the stream as he fought between the urge to peer above the water again, or to stay hidden.
Slowly, Delta rose again and unpinned his rounded ears. He swiveled them back and forth between the burbling brook and wind whistling through the branches above, but the rustling was gone. He breathed in relief, eyes slowly adjusting to the moonlight as he flared his nostrils and forced the water from his airways with a huff. It smelled of old leaves and birch, sweet and airy compared to the ocean's heavy handedness. The air carried scents so differently, it could be hard for him the parse the more distant ones. Perhaps that was why it took him so long to catch the faint tang of blood.
It was sour and stale, and almost mistaken for the rotting of logs as Delta opened his mouth and tasted the air for a better grasp of it. The closest he could link it to was rot, but it wasn't putrid, and the wind carried it in such a way it seemed to be in motion. He almost dove beneath the water again when movement twisted further in the trees, and the fur along his haunches spiked as the current drove him closer and the scent of iron only grew stronger. It moved as if it were hurt, strange and jerkily, with some sort of strange, dirtied masses dragging alongside it. It looked almost like a sort of giant bird, enough so that Delta reached towards the bank and dug his claws into the soil to keep himself from getting closer.
The smart thing to do would be avoiding it entirely. The land was full of strange, hungry creatures that had certainly attempted to snap him up on more than one occasion. But they'd never smelled so...
...it smelled of wolf, not of bird or beast. Delta didn't speak much to wolves, not at all really, but they were not wild creatures. They thought and worshipped and lived, not as monsters, but as creatures like he and that of the ocean. And this one, from what he could smell, and from the motions of its strange silhouette, had something wrong with it. Still, all Delta could see of it was a flitting shadow moving further from the stream, and a shudder rolled down his fins at the thought of leaving the water's safety to venture after it. His curiosity was peaked, and if it were hurt-well he was no healer, but perhaps he could sooth its journey to Tsillah.
Delta hesitantly sunk his other paw into the bank, digging his claws in and giving a sharp pump of his fins for leverage as he heaved his upper body out onto the gravel. His gills sputtered, a cough breaking through his lungs as his body instinctually forced water out in favor of air. Such a call to attention was dangerous, but he was already going to make himself known so it may be for the better.
"Wolf," he garbled, voice strange and nasally. He strained himself to be heard above the faint stream, though his legs tensed in anticipation of having to throw himself back into the water's safety. "Are you hurt?"