[PRP] Wind on the Waters

[Anhelisk]

Winter had come and gone, and with the frozen water melting everywhere, the swamp was every bit as wet as the waterfall-haired acha remembered. He'd been languishing for months now, and his attempts to find that fetching doe that he'd been seeking had been stymied time and time again.

He was ripped by his train of thought as a gust came down through the trees, making the rivulets of water around ripple and cutting his poor, damp hide to the bone. Life was unfair! Everything was cold, and lonely, and miserable, and even his sand dog didn't forgive him for the trek they'd taken back to the swamp.

"It'll be all right, girl. I'm sure we'll find someplace dry eventually...." He tried to muster every bit of cheerful enthusiasm and good-natured sincerity he had left.

Apparently, though, his emotional reserves were in a sorry state indeed. The dog snuffled, seemingly unconvinced, giving a paw at her nose and a sneeze before she continued to walk off.  

[Anhelisk]

It wasn't too often that the sand dog picked up initiative all on her own, but when she did, well, there was no stopping the independently-minded creature.

"Nemnee, dearest, where are you going?" He followed his pup, completely heedless of the doe they were approaching in his concern for the more immediate surroundings– especially the ones around his dearest Anemone.

He heard that crocodiles could get twice as long as kin! That they could snap up foals in only a few twisting bites. His precious pup wouldn't stand a chance against them, so he had to be constantly vigilant!  

[Anhelisk]

The buck turned his head as he heard a crunching noise in the snow. It was rhythmic– it was a doe!

"Hello," he ventured, careful not to shout too loudly. He'd found that the swamp was far less friendly towards the Acha proclivity for boundless enthusiasm. Or boundless volume, at least!  

[Anhelisk]

The acha giggled a little nervously. "Isn't it? I was told that when we come here, we can't leave," the buck said, a little hesitantly.

"But I do agree that I don't look quite at home yet. I'm used to dry cold! Dry cold that gets hot in the day." He walked forward as he saw his puppy start to step forward towards her, wiggling excitedly at the new person.

"It looks like Anemone likes you," he chirped in amusement.  

[Anhelisk]

The acha chuckled at the questioning tone.

"Ah– she's my little flower. I'm sea of Butterflies, so she's my anemone?" he explained, flushing slightly as the sand dog promptly started licking. It would almost seem that she tried to aim specifically for the nostrils, though that would only be fanciful imagination.  

[Anhelisk]

Sea of Butterflies cleared his throat, dancing a little on his hooves before he tried to answer her question. "Well, keep in mind that I haven't actually seen one– except in my dreams," the buck admitted, a little nervously.

"But I was told that's what it was, so I'm fairly certain of what anemones are. They're these beautiful little living flowers of the sea, that open little crowns of tube-shaped petals to the sea and that swell and bob like grasses in the wind," he described, almost reverently.

"And when my darling isn't damp and limp, her fur dances in the wind like plants in the water, yes it does!"

He smiled at her introduction. "Whispers of Death. Hopefully good ones. Peaceful ones," the buck said, "Though I suppose any whispers are better than no whispers at all. Are they warnings, or farewells?"  

[Anhelisk]

A blink. She was a strange one, this Whispers of Death was. The buck gave a light shrug at her strange statement, then turned around to look at her.

"Do you know if there's anything that's good to eat around here? I've mostly been eating twigs but they're... sad." Sad was the best word for them, really.  

[Anhelisk]

The buck made a happy little skip as she mentioned food– real food! Maybe he could learn this year, for next, how to find tastier things in winter than... ugh, twigs.

"So, what have you been eating lately?" the buck asked, happy to follow behind her.