Where Do People Like Us Float? [Bog]
After their strange encounters with the glowing fish in Auster, Bog had thought it best to return home. A trip south could wait until next winter, for now he wanted to be at home until all of these strange happenings blew over. Bug was brumating in his mud puddle, which left little options for social interaction. Bored and groggy with the unending night, he decided to hunt down his new companion. The pale girl had been doing a good job of fitting in with the rest of the swamp dwellers, and soon he thought he would seek out Mud and ask her guidance about her further induction into the Family. He'd already taken to calling her Hoarfrost, as though she were actually part of the Family already. Nimble paws carried him easily over the familiar roots of the mangrove trees, following the fresh scent trail that meandered through the crisp winter air. Without the sun to warm the ground and stave off the chill of winter, frost had settled on many of the trees and a thin layer of ice tended to cling to the shorelines of the mangrove. It was unusual, and he didn't enjoy the implications of another frigid winter. When the mud hued wolf finally stumbled upon his much larger companion, she was leaning against a tree and poking at the clusters of glowing mushrooms that were climbing its trunk. A choked exclamation caught in his throat, and he found himself picking up his pace. A patch of frost forced him to stumble as he closed the gap between them, and only served to drive his concern into the realm of genuine irritation. "Hoarfrost, be careful!" he warned, bounding onto the roots beside her. "We don't know if they're toxic or not, what if the spores suddenly got int'yer nose or eyes?" as soon as the words escaped, he regretted them. Bog was not her parent, he shouldn't be chiding her or anything of the sort. He sighed softly, ears folding against his head. "Sorry, I shouldn't 'a said that." the healer said quietly, and verdant eyes found themselves falling upon the mysterious fungus instead. Their glow flickered and thrummed like the beating of a heart, the their caps slick with the humid air of the mangroves. |