llegada -- Arrival [Tree Rat/Open]

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How long had it been? How long had it been since he left the forest? He didn't know. Maybe he'd started counting the number of times the sun rose and fell but now he didn't know. It'd been too long. So long that the pup lost count. Time really just blended together. He would be up to one thing and, before he knew it, the sunlight would fade. All that would be on his mind then is hiding. Sometimes he found a place to sleep, sometimes he didn't. He would spend some night running. Running from the shadows, even if they were the ones he cast on his own. Time wasn't an issue, survival was.

Orro's soft whimpers carried within them yearning. He wanted to go back. Back to the black tree trunks of the forest, tall, never ending columns in the haze. He wanted to feel the cold under his paws again. He missed the soft snow and how it went crunch, crunch, crunch as he walked. Or, the times it would fall from the sky, how he would snap at the flakes as if he could catch each one. He wanted to go back to his mother. If only he knew where she were or why she'd left him. Orro's little paws couldn't carry him fast enough. He was looking for her. That's why he had left to begin with. He was tired, though, very tired. Would she be mad at him if he gave up?

"Tired...tired...tired...", Orro whimpered as he trotted on.

This journey of his had taken quite the toll on him. Just looking at him, any wolf could tell that this young one had traveled far. He was on the verge of becoming a walking skeleton. His bones protruded from beneath his coat of dingy tan. Vibrant orange eyes now lacked luster, they lacked the fire that illuminated them. Orro hadn't eaten in a while. He just couldn't catch anything. As hard as he tried, the only thing he could catch were insects. They almost always seemed to make him sick, however. Energy was wasted on catching them, ground was wasted during the times he spent sick from consuming them. Whatever battle he was fighting was a tough one. The stubborn little wolf was determined to win but sometimes that wasn't enough. It wasn't enough. He was tired. He wanted to stop.

Orro fought that urge to rest. He could do so later. He was going somewhere now. He wasn't exactly sure where "somewhere" was but he was going there and he couldn't stop. He smelled something. The air was full of funny smells, really. He was most interested in this one thing, though. Subconsciously, he followed that smell. Squeezing under logs and through bushes he let his nose lead him. Soon enough, the smell was accompanied by a sound. It was water.

He perked up ever so slightly. Orro was suddenly aware of how thirsty he was. His throat burned with the need for water. He bounded forward and through the brush. What he saw made him gasp.

Wide eyed, Orro stood out in the open, looking out across the delta. It was like the water never ended. He looked and looked and looked for the peak of land but could find none. Was this the end of the world? It had to be! Orro bet that if he swam all the way out to the edge, he'd fall off into nothing.

"Amazing..." he yipped with wonder, the majesty of it all momentary breathing life back into him.

Orro bounded to the edge of the water as fast as his little paws could carry him. He greedily lapped at the water, gulping down mouthful after mouthful. He'd never tasted anything better, nothing more refreshing than this life giving liquid. It was amazing how badly he'd needed this. He drank and drank until it felt like he could fit no more in his little tummy. Panting, he drew his head up from the water. Where was this place? Why was so much of it comprised of just this river? What a strange land he had now found himself in. And the water...well...there were things in it.

Orro had looked back down, preparing to take another drink until he saw the swish of a tail. It looked at him and Orro looked back. Fish. He'd only ever seen a few and they were extremely small and extremely dead, succumbing to the cold of the White Forest. This one was big, very big, maybe even as large as he was and the pup was really just staring at it. Curious as it was, it took him a moment before he realized that he could eat fish.

He tried not to give this brilliant little idea away, he didn't want his lunch to get away from him. Closer and closer he inched, the fish totally unawares.

"Wait for it....Wait for it...." he repeated to himself, crouching , "Now!"

With a splash Orro lunged forward. But he kept falling forward. The water was icy, cutting through his fur to the skin. The sting was all too familiar but this feeling was not. He kicked his paws but it was like nothing was underneath. Sounds and everything were distorted and his vision clouded. A lot of good it did him not knowing how to swim. He broke through to the surface only to fall back underneath. He was able to steal a breath or two but sputtered, nose filling with water.

"H-help! Help me!", Orro yelped above the commotion of his splashing.

He wanted to yell for his mother but it was like some instinct told him that she would not be the one to rescue him. Who then? Who would hear his cries? Were they in vain? Orro struggled against the water. The shoreline was right there if only he could reach it and drag himself up. This couldn't be the end. Not after he'd come so far and been through so much. It couldn't end like this....it just couldn't.

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» Fall was ending and the first chill winds of winter were beginning to move off the ocean and condense over the delta. Soon that would mean rain, but for now it just meant cloudy skies that threatened ominously. It also meant that the water on both sides of the delta were cold. Normally the briney ocean water was a little warmer than the ice melt that formed the river, resulting in a nice temperature gradient, at least during the summer. Now that was gone and all that was left was cold water. Tree Rat sighed. Even with his heavy, grey and orange coat it was difficult not to feel the chill of the water creeping in. Especially when traversing his lands really just meant swimming in between patches of mud. Despite the cooling weather, Tree Rat was actually happy for the first time in many months. With the cold weather on the way, the bears that flocked to the delta for salmon were retreating into their caves to hibernate. Good riddance. They had killed his whole family but Tree Rat was absolutely determined that they would not harm his new pack. It felt almost like lying to call it a pack, even in his own mind. Four other wolves now resided within his borders. Two, Bahali and Swoop, were good wolves and he was glad to have them as part of his new family. Nico and Xanthus were monsters. They were not even truly part of his pack, thankfully as far as Tree Rat was concerned. It had been a mistake to allow them to stay in the Delta but with one wolf against two, there had been little he could do to stop them. »  The male paused for a moment and sighed loudly at the thought of the two brothers. Something would have to be done about that. First, though, he would finish patrolling his borders, a task he had been neglecting for months. Now, with wolves living in the delta, he had finally taken up that responsibility of an alpha. Tree Rat continues, his paws squelching in tick mud. It was an inescapable facet of his swampy land. Honestly, though he would never tell a soul, he loved to roll in it, coating his coat with the smell of home. It made it much easier to catch those crafty otters and beavers too. As Tree Rat came to a large channel he paused. Sure, he could follow the exact line of the border and swim through the channel, but it would really be much easier for him to walk around. What were the chances that something dangerous would choose this place to enter his realm? Suddenly a thin, high-pitched yelping silenced the marsh birds.  Sound traveled well over water, meaning Tree Rat could clearly hear it was a pup in distress. It would have to be swimming. Powerfully he leaped into the water, landing with a mighty splash that scared away any fish for miles around. Immediately he began swimming, his powerful legs carrying him easily through the water. He had learned to swim almost before he had learned to walk. The fall, and the salmon run, had been good to him as well. His coat was thick and shiny, but the body it covered was as even better specimen of good health. Lean muscles ran across his wiry frame - the product of eating fish rather than deer. Those same fish had given him a good layer of fat though, which kept most of the cold out. Most of it.  »  At last Tree Rat saw the pup. The little tan creature was thrashing around, bobbing down into the depths of the water for a disturbingly long time before he managed to pop himself up again. Tree Rat redoubled his efforts at the sight and was soon beside the little pup. Without a moments thought he grabbed the scruff of his fur and began to drag him to shore. It wasn't far away, so the rescue was quick. As soon as Tree Rat stood on solid ground he carefully set down his dripping wet burden and stared at worriedly. While he had never been a father, he had been an uncle many times over. That pup did not look good. Not only was he absolutely sopping wet, he was incredibly thin. His ribs and hip joints stuck out from his frame, stretching his skin too far. Tree Rat laid his tall from beside the little creature and began to lick him, hoping to stroke some warmth back into his limbs. "And just who are you?" He said between licks, tone concerned, if slightly amused. "A scout for an invading army?" If his experience as an uncle had taught him anything, it was not to fuss with small children when you had just saved them from certain death. Most of the time they didn't realize how close they had come to disappearing from this earth and it really didn't do to upset them. Still, Tree Rat couldn't help wondering just who this pup was. His scent was unfamiliar, which meant he probably hadn't simply wandered away from Shore Woods, the closest pack territory. Where were his parents? Why was he so starved? It reminded Tree Rat forcibly of the last pup he had cared for. His niece had been much younger, still dependent on her dead mother's milk. Tree Rat had watched helplessly until she wasted away. He couldn't let that happen again, even to a strange a pup. notes » some minor (major) powerplaying for the rescue- let me know if you'd like me to change it!

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Orro was too young to be this familiar with loss. He was too good a friend with struggle and knew suffering far too often. His was a hard lot in life and yet he clung to it. Orro fought with all the energy he had left. He'd made some unspoken promise to himself that he'd come out of this. He'd come out better, smarter, stronger. Failing now would be such a disappointment. But with each kick his muscles burned. Every breath only invited more water into his lungs. Maybe he would lose this. Orro went under the water one last time and just couldn't find it in him to break back through.

He closed his eyes, thinking he might finally be able to sleep. Then he heard a splash. Even underneath the water he could hear the stroke of strong, sure legs. He was moving then, some wolf's teeth clamped gently about his scruff, dragging him to the air and out of the water.

With a little 'oof', Orro was plopped down onto the shore. He coughed ferociously, his tiny lungs trying desperately to expel all the water that had entered them. He was numb and senses came to him one at a time. His lungs burned as he was able to take his first proper breath. Ragged as they were, the pup greedily gasped in the cool delta air. The smell of some strange wolf hit him hard. Orro then became aware that someone was fussing over him, licking him in an attempt to get him warm. The pup should've been thankful but he was nothing but scared.

"No! No! No!" Orro yipped.

He tried to scurry away but only succeeded in rolling. His paws seemed to fall out from underneath him and he was back on his belly only paw steps away from this strange wolf. With a frustrated little growl, Orro made it back onto his paws. He faced his strange hero. He was very big.

It didn't take Orro long to realize that creatures bigger then he was could, and generally wanted to, hurt him. This wolf must've been the largest he'd ever seen. Much bigger than his petite mother, Orro was immediately intimidated. He couldn't run, though, he didn't have the energy. The cold sucked every ounce of heat from his emaciated body. He felt like his heart barely sustained the will to beat, all his blood frozen by the frigid water. Shivers wracked his little frame. He was cold and standing was a struggle. His legs would surely give out any moment. Had he been saved only to become a snack?

Orro postured defensively. His tail tucked between his legs and ears pressed to his head, he tried to hide his fear. His growls were half hearted and just for show, really. He was still in the process catching his breath so between intermittent snarls were his ragged gasps.

"A-army...?" there was confusion apparent in Orro's voice.

Adults could be so odd sometimes. What could this guy possibly be talking about?

The pup swallowed thickly, "A-are you g-going to eat m-me?"

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» Tree Rat hadn't been able to lick the pup for more than a few moments before he hopped up and scurried away. The poor thing was not only starving, but also absolutely terrified. He cowered against the ground, pressing his belly against the ground as much as possible. Tree Rat rose to his feet and cocked his head to the side, wondering what could cause a little pup to react so strongly to another wolf. What had the little creature seen that made him so resistant to strangers? Rat was no youngster, at five he was certainly in the prime of his life. To him, puppyhood felt like so long ago that it was mostly a dream. The creature certainly was small, perhaps the older wolf was a little intimidating. Rat tried awkwardly to hunker down and make himself smaller as the pup tried vainly to be aggressive. His growls and yelps were actually so pathertic that Rat tried to cover up the grin » Two » Three » Four notes » I will finish this soon;