The owl turned and wandered off, a strange grinding sound coming from her as she seemed to stare at the walls. ...Why was she staring at the walls?

Is she sick?

The thought, though it came without words, drifted through the dingo's mind, bringing with it both concern and confusion--and a spark of curiosity. But the owl didn't seem sick. She was shuffling along, peering over the markings on the wall, and at length Feral crept up behind her. She wasn't prowling, exactly, not stalking the owl--she was just trying to avoid being attacked. So she came up quietly, still sniffing in silence at the owl's back, ears pricked up--body tensed down and ready to leap away, every bit the hesitant puppy.

But the owl didn't do anything. The eye on the back of her head stared--at least, Feral assumed it was an eye--and the dingo kept her eyes on it as she slipped closer.

Suddenly willow turned her head, staring at her, and Feral froze, blinking; but she wasn't hunting, and it showed, and soon the owl turned back away.

Being boring. Being bland. What was it? How could she find out?

At length--her attention fully on the moving, fluffy, breathing owl, and not the boring motionless wall--she lifted one oversized paw.

She hesitated. But the owl wasn't moving, much. So she decided--in her instinctive way--to paw at it. Why wasn't it doing anything?

She brought the paw down lightly, pulling it over the owl's back, pawing at her. Staring at her, expectantly.

________________

The wall relaxed the owl in a strange way. Following the patterns and trying to figure out what could possibly be under the deep scratches in the wall, filled her mind with child-like wonder. Because of this, she was certain she could watch the wall for hours, absorbing every carved curve and-...

The dingo had followed her. She turned to look at her, but assumed she came to see the wall. So, she turned back to stare at it once more. Not even three seconds later there was a paw on her back, causing her to flinch and stand, looking at Feral.

"What is it?" she asked, blinking.

________________

The dingo flinched for a moment as the owl turned to her, again speaking. And then--in the manner of every curious or playful puppy ever--immediately opened her jaws to try and fit the entire owl's back into them.

She wasn't biting--not yet--just... nomming.

Gently.

The dingo seemed incapable of speech--at least for the time being. She was, however clearly capable of instinctive reasoning, and she seemed to have decided that Willow was either potentially dangerous prey to be tested out, or a new playmate to wrestle with.

________________

Oh dear.

The owl was silent as the dingo seemingly decided to use her as a chew-toy. For a moment, she was still, before she very gently twisted her head to lightly peck at Feral's mouth, though in no way with an intent to cause the pup pain. "Now now," said the owl, as soft-spoken as ever. "Let go. If you are hungry we can hunt."

She'd have to teach the pup to hunt, it seemed, else she'd be the meal for her. Which she felt would be unsatisfying - as Feral could probably feel, she was nothing but a whole lot of fluff and some bones.

________________

A beak pecked her mouth and she froze, blinking and staring at the owl.

Then she sneezed.

A sudden surge of playfulness filled the pup. She began twisting every which way, pawing and yelping and nipping, spinning and dashing away and then back. Twice it seemed she would simply bolt off out of the tunnel--and then she'd come rocketing back, all lopsided and gangly, oversized paws, panting and yipping. Her pupils were dilated, the energy that filled her play bordering on dangerous. It would only take a half a second of intense nipping for the playfulness to bubble over into predation.

Luckily, it didn't seem that this would happen--not now, anyway. Not this time. For now she simply came surging in a full puppy gallop back toward Willow and threw herself into the air, all wild grin and flapping ears, seeming to slow into slow motion as she came careening down toward the poor owl.

It'd be easy enough to move to avoid her, but clearly she was fully willing to body-tackle her new... sister? Owl-sister?

Clearly, the dingo was a little confused about what was friend, and family.

(exit willlow)

---

RE: Feral - Feral - Aug 28 2015

The dingo watched as her newfound companion swept up and into the stone wall.

She waited for her to come out.

When Willow didn't, Feral then began to prance, one paw to the other--and bark, yipping, then waiting. She got no response, and so she tried again, loudly and repeatedly filling the tunnel with deafening barks, yips, whines, yowls and howls, in a cacophony that could send any Gembound--let alone the extremely sound-sensitive owls--mad.

Finally, swept up in her own bundle of sudden energy and forgetting why she was barking to begin with, the pup turned and ran in a rocking, clumsy gallop directly out of the tunnel--and away from Willow, promptly forgetting her--for the time being, at least.

The scents, instead, of Eridanus called to her: the odor of plant, of rich earth, and the distant scent of something more... edible, within.

She barked the whole way out.

(( ooc -- exit Feral ))

---