No Postcode Envy

Gargoyle shook his head again, spattering the nearby plants. "Yeah hi," he muttered. Normally he was more curteous, espically where females were involved, but not today. Today he really just wanted to be left alone. Alot had been happening in his life these days - some wonderful, some terrible. He had the love of his pack, yet the fates seemed to be against them all. Glaciem or Glacias or the current Tortugas or whatever they were supposed to call themselves now had been forced out of one home after another ever since the beginning - whether it was due to fire, disappearance of prey, the earth spewing out it's insides through the top of a mountain, or some ambitious challenger with a lucky snag to Gargoyle's arteries. He'd never show it before his packmates, or even his mate if he could help it, but there were times when the dark thoughts took their toll on the giant. Sometimes he just needed to get away for a bit. Things were so much simpler when it was just him and his infuriating excuse for a mink, Frisk, traveling the world, like a couple of kick a-- bachelors.

But no, no that was glorifying the past. At the time things had been horrible. He'd been running from the monster he'd become; from the mob where he'd learned to kill and enjoy taking his time while doing so. He didn't want to go back to that. Not even if he'd been stronger back then. ...Right?

Gargoyle decided that he didn't care if there was another wolf around, he was going swimming, he needed to cool off. It was nice little creek - in some places it ran only a foot or so deep over smooth stones and fern dotted banks, but in other places - here being one, it created a pool both deep and wide. The water was a bit murky from the bankmud, but it smelled clean and wholesome. Gargoyle stepped through the tall plants that littered the bank and started wading his way in. As the water level rose he looked something like an aligater - just his head, then water, then his shoulers, then more water, then his black rump. But he was so tall that he could touch the bottom even in the very middle. Only by bending his legs and ducking his head could he immerse his whole form in the creek, and it was wonderful to feel the pull of the current against his fur.

Of course it was while his head was under water that the cotton mouth who'd gone slithering by before, started coming back up stream, right towards were Gargoyle had disappeared under water. And when his head did come back up again, he was facing the wrong way! He didn't see the serpent winding his way and he was about to turn around keep splashing.