Until It's Gone

Aoife bustled industriously across the moor, looking for a convenient hidey-hole to tuck her latest creation. She wasn't finished working on it, and wanted to be able to bring it out fully finished as a surprise, so she couldn't store it back at the family den. And if she was all the way out this far, she wouldn't need to worry about anyone hearing her practicing it while she got it right, either. After all, she couldn't just put it together and expect it to sound right without testing and adjusting it, and she wanted to make sure she had a song that fit the instrument for when she made the big reveal. Maybe she could make a bonfire outside of the ravine and make a little mini-festival for the pack. She'd need to ask her dad for help with the food though, or maybe she could keep it as a surprise and ask Domari, who seemed pretty nice. She'd need to make sure to clear a big area of grass so that the fire wouldn't light the grass, of course...

Midthought she paused, her eyes drawn to a rough den that had appeared through the fog. Ah HA! It was perfect. Not only was it large enough to tuck away the instrument, but it was big enough for her to even fit comfortably with it so she'd be able to work on it right there in bad weather, when she couldn't really be doing anything else anyway. She dove quickly and happily into the den, not paying any particular attention to the scents that laid lightly over everything in it as she immediately set to work digging little cubbies for the instrument and her crafting supplies she'd need for it.

She was so caught up in what she was doing that she almost missed the sound of something snuffling around the entrance. When it happened again louder, she paused and began to turn, but midturn something larger than her threw itself into the den in a fury. Instinctively she finished her turn towards it as it slammed her back into the den wall. Something snapped with a discordant crash. She slashed out with her bared claws. More kitten-like than her brother's, they were nonetheless very sharp and left lines of red across the thing's nose. It backed off enough that she could drop down to her paws and brace herself, tucking her head down so that her raised crest of quills pointed menacingly at the creature. It charged back in, not recognizing the crest for what it was - while it knew porcupines, she smelled like a wolf pup, and wolf pups did NOT have quills. Well, this one did, and the creature bellowed as small barb quills pierced all along its face and chest. Snarling and swiping at them it backed rapidly out, and Aoife followed just as rapidly. Out in the sunlight, without the creature's body blocking the light, she could see it was a badger. It was furious, but the painful quills hurt with every movement and she could see it was quickly losing the will to keep going for her. To hasten it on its way, Aoife raised her crest again and swiped towards him with unsheathed claws as she snarled as fiercely as she could modulate her voice.

The badger charged again, but she'd lowered her head and the sight of the raised crest made the badger check itself. Too close, though - she slapped out with her paw, more claw marks showing red with slowly beading blood on the badger's cheek. The powerful digging claws of the badger swiped back at her, and she was quick to jump back. The squat bodied badger didn't have her reach or her speed though it was much larger and heavier than the pup was right now. If it could pin her on her back it could hurt her badly, so she'd need to be really careful not to let it knock her back again like its first charge. She'd be able to get her back claws up to tear up his belly, maybe but if she couldn't then she was toast. It made sense to use her agility to her advantage and keep out of it's reach, but eventually all that bouncing around was going to tire her a lot faster than the badger's stolid charges, and then he'd have her. That's probably what he was expecting her to do, wily old creature. Well, she'd just end it sooner then.

With a wild yell she threw herself forward, long fangs bared to bury themselves deep into the badger's shoulder, claws digging as deep as they could to his chest, and she went into a power slide like she'd grabbed a pole while sprinting, so her backlegs slid right under him. Now she clung close, too close for him to use his claws without hitting her quills, and she raked long furrows into his wide belly with her hindclaws, her foreclaws scrabbling at his chest, shoulders, face, everything she could to keep him from thinking enough to crush her.

It seemed to work - the badger backed away rapidly, shaking his heavy body to try to rid himself of her. Aoife obliged, rolling out from under him and lifting her clawed paw again threateningly but he'd had enough, turning to lumber away to deal with the claw marks and quills that hurt so much. Aoife didn't follow and watched him go with a faintly troubled air now that the adrenaline of the battle faded. Oh - this must have been his den. She was the one at fault, and guilt clutched at her, guilt that was rapidly subsumed by the memory of that discordant twang when the badger had attacked her. Oh no! Her instrument!

She dove into the den, only to see the twisted remains of the instrument. She cradled it tenderly. There was no fixing it - she'd need to start from scratch. She was puppy enough yet that her lower lip trembled as she looked down at it, but then it firmed. Well, this was karma for her being awful enough to chase that poor badger out of his winter home. She'd just have to start over.

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