For a brief moment, Delta swore he heard a sort of caw, like that of a crow, but upon flinching and scanning his gaze up and down the horizon, he spotted nowhere to perch and no black shapes dotting the sky. It was the closest noise he could link the sound to, but whichever bird or beast that made it eluded his vision. He flared his nostrils, but paired with the strong fragrance of the flowers in his jaws and the breeze blowing upwind, no unfamiliar scents came to him. A familiar anxiety twinged in his chest, and the safety of the water called to him as he shuffled closer to the bank with nervous, hurried steps.
He was not fast enough however to outpace the sudden thud of paws behind him, and the spike of adrenaline which coursed through his little body was only amplified by a sudden call which rung unrecognizable in his panicked mind. The instinct to escape flashed to the forefront--underwater, he would have kicked off the bank and pumped his fins to catch the current downstream, but such instincts proved less than helpful on land. Muscle memory had him kick off the gravel in an undignified hop, stumpy limbs flailing out in all directions as his tail lashed uselessly and his fins flapped against the air. It was more of a full body spasm than anything, and he stumbled to catch himself in a clumsy landing with his mouth agape and little fangs bared towards her. His bundle of flowers now laid haphazardly scattered around his paws, and he arched his long body and let out a gurgling, high-pitched hiss.
It took a moment for his eyes to catch up with his thudding heart, but when they did, he recognized the large shape as something wolf-adjacent. It was bright and warm, like sunbaked clay, with strange tentacles writing across its haunches like stinging anemones and hot light flashing through its chest. It looked of soil and earth, and its low voice, her low voice, now that he parsed her words, rumbled like a tremor through the dirt. Delta nearly didn't recognize that she'd spoken, but through the fog of fight and flight, it proved a tiny relief that it wasn't some mindless beast who'd caught him outside the water.
That wasn't to say that the experience still wasn't terrifying.
"Um," Delta sputtered, struggling to be polite because she'd asked him a question, but also battling the urge to shriek as loud as he could as he had done with predators in the past. If he screamed, perhaps it would distract her enough for him to break for the water and dive to safety; but would she attack him? She was confronting him, yes, but if she could speak, then she was like him. Would she still eat him if they were the same in that way? Slowly, he took a shaky step back towards the water, not taking his eyes off the stranger. In any case, he needed to be back in the river.
"I am River Delta," he answered shakily, very obvious in his attempts to shuffle backwards towards the water's edge. "I am--are these your flowers?"
He was not fast enough however to outpace the sudden thud of paws behind him, and the spike of adrenaline which coursed through his little body was only amplified by a sudden call which rung unrecognizable in his panicked mind. The instinct to escape flashed to the forefront--underwater, he would have kicked off the bank and pumped his fins to catch the current downstream, but such instincts proved less than helpful on land. Muscle memory had him kick off the gravel in an undignified hop, stumpy limbs flailing out in all directions as his tail lashed uselessly and his fins flapped against the air. It was more of a full body spasm than anything, and he stumbled to catch himself in a clumsy landing with his mouth agape and little fangs bared towards her. His bundle of flowers now laid haphazardly scattered around his paws, and he arched his long body and let out a gurgling, high-pitched hiss.
It took a moment for his eyes to catch up with his thudding heart, but when they did, he recognized the large shape as something wolf-adjacent. It was bright and warm, like sunbaked clay, with strange tentacles writing across its haunches like stinging anemones and hot light flashing through its chest. It looked of soil and earth, and its low voice, her low voice, now that he parsed her words, rumbled like a tremor through the dirt. Delta nearly didn't recognize that she'd spoken, but through the fog of fight and flight, it proved a tiny relief that it wasn't some mindless beast who'd caught him outside the water.
That wasn't to say that the experience still wasn't terrifying.
"Um," Delta sputtered, struggling to be polite because she'd asked him a question, but also battling the urge to shriek as loud as he could as he had done with predators in the past. If he screamed, perhaps it would distract her enough for him to break for the water and dive to safety; but would she attack him? She was confronting him, yes, but if she could speak, then she was like him. Would she still eat him if they were the same in that way? Slowly, he took a shaky step back towards the water, not taking his eyes off the stranger. In any case, he needed to be back in the river.
"I am River Delta," he answered shakily, very obvious in his attempts to shuffle backwards towards the water's edge. "I am--are these your flowers?"