 Finally she had selected a den in Iromar. It was a rather small, inferior kind of living space but she dealt with such things as she has always done. With a practical and firm mind. Since declaring it her own - not that anyone was fighting over the abandoned thing - she had set to work digging it out into a wider space. The heat in the swamps was no fun to say the least. Each night the past week she had collapsed into the construction site with a heavy sigh and weary legs. The muscles in her forelegs were strong, as her entire bodice, but even they could not condone such lengthy periods of exertion. The paws of her feet were raw and she felt as if the dirt that had nestled between her toes and clung to her claws would forever stain her. The white on her paw was practically invisible beneath such grime. It reminded her somewhat of Malikye's unkempt state when he had come running out to murder her before deciding, quite suddenly, to quench his thirst elsewhere. What a strange creature he was and often in the past week or two her mind has drifted to him as she caught the fading stench of his body in the expanse of Iromar. The bogs seemed to quell the scent markers left by others rather quickly but at just the right time of day with just the right amount of breeze, the grimy smell of swamp dissipated long enough to get a clean lungful of air. Today she had arisen from her deep slumber with dry, itchy eyes and the intense feeling that fleas were crawling through her pelt. Normally she was a clean wolf; her white patch always shined so bright against the ebony of her chest, yet when one had to deal with such laborious activities for so long the one became so tired as to not bath. Not to mention there was very few spots in Iromar where the water wasn't a murky color and didn't carry a nasty taste. Bathing there seemed almost impractical though she was sure the others had to do it sometime. Well.. maybe. So she stretched her legs, feeling them quiver beneath her as the sore muscles pulled, and headed out of Iromar for the first time since she had come to the bog. A nice bath in the river she had seen before would set her straight and if she was lucky she'd stumble across a fattened hare. She had begun to survive mostly on the birdlife that nested in reeds and the fish that relaxed in the shallows. It seemed many of the rabbits in Iromar simply left or were hardy enough that she never saw them. No matter - there was much land out here. The Aithne that moves through the trees and blessedly solid land is not the same female Malikye met not too long ago. Dirt is dried through her fur, matted into the white and splashed up the sides of her legs and across her belly. There is a tiredness to her face, the combination of a good days hard work - or week in her case - but she is still filled with life. As she nears the river she can hear a splashing as well as growling and the sound of bones, fragile, snapping beneath some onslaught. When she finally emerges it is to see a rather clean figure going to town on a pile of fish. For a moment she does not recognize the male for this figure is nothing like the crazed one that had met her in Iromar. She intends, initially, to walk past the male and simply take a dip into the water, but as she nears him Aithne freezes in shock. For Malikye, with his bright eyes, stands before her. Such a situation it is - she is like he had been, nasty *perhaps a bit smelly too* - and he is clean cut. He is rather fetching too. A sardonic smile twists across her tired face, her emerald eyes filled with wary amusement. Well... maybe you aren't cursed after all." A I T H N E Fallen for the fear and done some disappearing; bow down to the mighty _______________________ |