&NotSoBad?

[Willow]

Summer had come and gone, and now fall was here. Such a betrayer, fall. The warm weather--Poof! And now so many leaves, to rustle and crackle as one stalked, betraying the predator to prey.

Perhaps prey deserved a chance, but Malko certainly didn't think so.

The brute had given up and was now gnawing at an old deer bone, feeling the calcium crack under his teeth. Bright blue eyes were hazed with sleep, and Malko wondered if he could chance a doze. Hallow had disappeared about twenty minutes ago, and Malko didn't doubt that, if he chanced his nap, she'd play a trick.

Fall brought breezes, too. A crisp, sharp breeze fluffed up the cinnamon fur along his spine, and his ears swiveled forward. Malko had gotten distinctly untrusting after the White Witch. Some people just didn't trust the wolves anymore, even the ones that hadn't been involved. That wasn't fair, either, Malko thought.

But someone was coming, and life just wasn't fair. He supposed he would have to deal with it, if it came to that. The brute rose onto all fours, tail swinging down to one side, the leg bone dangling from his mouth. It hadn't been a talking deer, Malko just wasn't like that. Hallow would eat the talking creatures if she was hungry enough, but Malko couldn't bear to hear their screams.

Screams didn't matter if you didn't really understand them.

[Kelila]

((YAY, NARNIA! =D Imma gonna use my two faun characters, even though I usually use them for pre-Golden-Age roleplays. ))

It wasn't one being that approached the place where the wolf stood, it was two. Two sets of cloven hooves shuffled through the accumulating piles of brightly hued autumn leaves, producing soft crunching and shifting sounds as they walked along. The hooves belonged to two fauns, friends Desiderius and Velunus. They were laughing and chatting as they strolled along through the woods.

Desiderius, the oldest of the two with dark brown fur and goatee, was trying to be patient with his younger friend. "Come on now, Vel, you know that in a normal year winter has to come around again sooner or later," he sighed, smiling. "It's only natural."

Velunus, whose fur was a glossy black and face still smooth, replied, "Well, all I can say is that I think it's come too soon. We've all just gotten over it, after all! In my opinion, summer should be much longer. Much, much longer," he gestured with a broad sweep of his arms. "What fun is winter? Nothing but snow. Brr." He mock shivered.

Des whacked him playfully on the head with a book he was carrying. "Have you already forgotten the Snow Dance? We always have fun with that." He paused to leap over a fallen tree, and Vel followed in his characteristic acrobatic style. "Dances always liven things up. Don't worry. It won't last as long as last time, that's for sure."

Vel was about to answer with a sarcastic comment when he suddenly stopped in his tracks, his ears standing straight up, his eyes wide with surprise. He was completely frozen in fear. Des stopped as well and looked at his friend confusedly. "Vel? What is it? By the Lion's mane, you've gone white as milk." He touched Vel's shoulder and found that it was trembling slightly, but Vel remained fixed in his place, barely even breathing. "By Silenus, Vel, what is it?" Des asked.

Vel raised a trembling arm and pointed off into the woods a little distance, his mouth slightly open but no words coming out. Puzzled, Des turned to look, and the color drained from his face also, his ears drooping slightly. "Oh, dear. Wolf."

[Daeiel]

Florin was risking his luck, he knew that.

His paws trotted carefully over the crackling leaves, his tail held high, his head hunched. He barely made any noise, but barely was over what he was used to.

A stray leaf whirled casually down, catching his back as he moved along. He twitched, shaking his spine, and the thing fell off, gracefully floating down to the leaf-covered floor. He shook his head and spat a little. Leaves were stupid things, especially dead ones. Why did the Lion make them?

Florin wouldn't ever know, he supposed, as he gathered himself and leaped.

He remained in the air for what seemed like a minute, a calculated soar into the uppermost reaches of the Oak tree, gripping it with his claws as he continued to pull himself upwards.

"Watch it," moaned the voice beneath him.

"I will," hissed Florin, "I promise."

"You always say that," whined the Dryad, "But you never mean it."

"I do too," countered Florin, his claws still out and still sinking into the tree's bark.

His fur was glossy, well-groomed, and ragged in some patches that he did his best to conceal. Dark brown in colour, he matched almost perfectly with the dying vegetation as he continued his scamper up to see what was to be seen.

Wolves were in the Lantern Waste, he'd heard. He wanted to see for himself. There hadn't been wolves in Narnia since before the Golden Age, and his curiosity was determined to get the best of him.

Reaching the crown at last, and putting the poor Dryad all out of sorts, the Talking Cat crouched down to wait.

[Willow]

ooc- Sorry it's taken so long, I haven't quite gotten back into the ritual of checking Toborri.

bic-

The fur along Malko's black spine bristled, the brute feeling more than a little nervous. Centaurs would fire arrows for less than a sharp word, nevermind trespassers. The wolf spotted the two fauns as they broke the treeline, and cinnamon tipped ears flew back on his head.

One of them was pale as snow, like he'd been dipped in the stuff. It didn't take long for the other to drain of color in his face, his buddy's shaking finger pointed in Malko's direction. Others were in the woods, besides the fauns.

Malko winced at the creature's comment. Great. Hallow would probably have just snapped at them, scared them away. But Malko was trying to erase bad tension for the wolves, not enforce it.

He managed a weak wag of his tail. Fauns were harmless, he knew that, but the White Witch had been horrible to them. They weren't likely to be thrilled.

A short burst of anger drove his first comment from his muzzle, teeth flashing in the dim light. "Going to holler for your buddies, string up the big, bad wolf?"

The fury died away as suddenly as it had come. Malko trotted a short distance away, stepping over a bone of some kind. Great for his appearance, he thought bitterly. The soft growl that had come with his voice faded away. "I don't eat things that talk."

What was that other scent? Some sort of cat, but....Hmm. He couldn't see it. Malko wrinkled his nose, annoyed, and plopped down on a log, sighing.