muddy paws

Ophie's healing prowess hadn't gotten much better, or worse really. It just remained stagnant and still, not really going anywhere as she slugged through the seasons. Each day more dull than the last. It wasn't as if she had a lot to complain about, her life hadn't caught fire and everything seemed to be right and good within the Armada. It was just...she felt like she ought to have accomplished more by now, you know? Her siblings were mighty warriors, had left to explore the world and Briar was gonna get married, become a queen! And what was Ophie doing? Not a lot, to be honest. Same old, same old. Nothing new here.

Rising from her wallowing puddle, she was more of a hippo than a wolf these days, she ambled her way towards the long grass of the plains. Strangely for this time of year there was a sweet smell wafting on the breeze. She'd caught it earlier but had wanted to nap, but there it was again, tickling her nose as it invited her to seek it out. To see what all the fuss was about. It had rained the other day and the mud was thick and churned, sloshy between her toes as she pressed further into the territory. She had always liked it out here, enjoyed the sense of aloneness, like no one could ever find her.

It didn't take her long at all to find the plant that caught her attention as it stood out plain and clear amongst all the greenery. The plant itself was about medium in size, with lilac flowers that had long and thin petals that branched out in all directions. Like a sunflower...but obviously not. It smelled really good and sweet though, like a pretty perfume that would cling to an equally beautiful wolf's pelt. Obviously not hers. It would suit Briar, she decided and might even make a nice wedding gift. Something Ophie wouldn't eat and let it go to waste.

She didn't want to just pluck one flower and call it quits though, it just didn't seem enough and was very low effort. So what about...the whole flower? All potted up and pretty, ready to be planted wherever Briar wished. Now that sounded like a good idea to Ophie, if she did say so herself.

Rushing back into the communal area of the territory, Ophie plunged herself head first into the stores. She rummaged and dug about, making a right mess of things as she shoved stuff aside in the hunt for the perfect pot. There were a lot to choose from, too many really but in the end she chose a wide clay pot. One that would provide the flower with plenty of room to grow, but not too big and ungainly to carry about. A happy medium.

Thumping her way back out to the field, Ophie began to carefully dig out the plant. Her paws scratched at the earth, clawing and shoving dirt aside as she did her best to avoid the roots and greenery. It was a lot easier said than done, required more finesse than Ophie had at her disposal, but she tried her best all the same. Plopping it into the pot was a task in and of itself, dirt snowed everywhere as she gently took a hold of the plants stems and lifted it up with gritted teeth. Plopping it down she hurried to scoop mud into the container to fill the gaps, to pat it down and give the plant what it needed to settle into its new home. For now at least.

Worry furrowed her brow. It looked...bendier than before, slanted to the side as though it was sad and dejected. She hadn't ruined it, right? Maybe it would have been better to just leave it be, to take one flower and call it quits but... Well, what was done was done, she'd carry it back to her den and give it lots of TLC. Give it time to regain its strength and grow some more before the wedding finally took place. But what of the trip to Auster, what if it it got even more damaged on the way?

Oh man. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all. Too late now, she supposed. No going back when the work was done, as sloppy as it was.

Plopping it to the side of her den entryway, she took a moment to angle it towards the sun. For Autumn it was still quite warm and sunny, hopefully the winter that followed wouldn't be too rough. Nothing like the winters that came before at least. Till then, she'd just wait and see, hope the pretty purple flower got better, well enough to be a perfect present for the perfect sister.

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