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 Posted: Wed Mar 17, 2010 6:01 pm
 As dusk began to fall over the land and the sun bade farewell for the night, a sliver of moonlight peeked through the trees, setting the forest in a soft glow. Compared with the rain that had soaked everything under it the day before, even the darkest night would be a welcome change, as Sorcha well knew. Between the downpours and Spring's welcome arrival, most of the snow had melted away to reveal a very muddy Earth below.
And so, schlopping and squishing her way along, Sorcha trenched through the muck, sending splatters of sticky dirt every which way with each step. And, though it was a little known fact, mud+Faeghan was not a match made in Heaven. Though, anyone who could see the bright green female at that moment could figure that out well enough for themselves. She was a sorry sight, as bits of dried up leaves and twigs stuck themselves into the mud covering most of her lower body. So far, this was NOT the kind of Spring she had been looking forward to through the cold Winter months.
"Ooof... ew... on no..." and so on could be heard muttering amongst the trees as she made her way towards a sight for very sore eyes; the lake. Her whole face lit up as she could see the moon reflecting in the water up ahead.
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Posted: Wed Mar 17, 2010 6:34 pm
 On the other talon, some Eoghan were made for mud. One particular Eoghan tromped through the mud easily, skidding and sliding around when he had room to do so between trees with a happy crow. Dunkirk's dappled grey fur was caked by now since he had been splashing around in the mud for the better part of the afternoon and evening, and he was on the edge of being truly exhausted, but he was reluctant to stop just in case the sun decided to come out the next day and dry up the mud. Dunkirk stopped to catch his breath after one particularly slippery slide that nearly sent him careening into a tree and took a moment to shake off the wettest mud. He flicked his tail and glanced around when he noticed he'd slid his way to the edge of the forest near the lake. Well, that worked out - he was tired, and while he loved splashing in and sliding over the mud, sleeping with it caked in his fur and on his paws and talons was not the most comfortable thing in the world. A quick wash would be just the thing to end a perfect day, so, with a grin, he took off running from the treeline to dive in so the shock of the cold water would be over quickly.
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Posted: Thu Mar 18, 2010 5:58 pm
Sorcha breathed in deeply as she approached the lake's edge, smiling. The air was crisp and refreshing, but not so cold yet as to be uncomfortable. Spring nights didn't come any more perfect than this one was. She would have preferred a summer night filled with crickets and fireflies, but a Waxwing's faint song in the distance filled the space quite nicely.
As she looked down at the lightly rippling water, a chill ran down her spine. All the snow melt-off and water that had run down from the mountains had made the water level higher than usual, and assuredly, much colder than she would have liked. Her face scrunched up unhappily, as she puckered her beak just thinking about submerging herself into the icy bath.
But still, mud vs cold water. She definitely knew who the winner was in THAT fight. Even if it was the case of the lesser of two evils.
Sucking in a deep breathe, she held it as she slowly began to dip a paw into a shallow area of water.
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Posted: Fri Mar 19, 2010 1:20 pm
Dunkirk splashed around at the water's edge for a few moments to shake loose the worst of the caked-on mud - he could do a more thorough cleaning in a moment. As he was splashing, though, he turned and caught a glimpse of bright colors shimmering in the moonlight - too bright to be normal at this time of night. Curious, Dunkirk tromped closer until he could recognize the outline of another Eoghan. Someone else washing off the mud before they sleep, he guessed, but whoever it may have been was just prolonging the discomfort. "It's easier if you just jump in and get it over with!" he called as he continued to wade closer, and as he did so, he noticed this Eoghan's wings were...odd, a type he had never seen before. Of course, Dunkirk was also an oddball since he had no wings, but his curiosity was fully kindled now, and he continued closer to get a better look.
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Posted: Fri Mar 19, 2010 5:41 pm
As Sorcha swished her paw a bit in the water, trying to get a feeling for the temperature, a voice came ringing out from deeper in the lake towards her. So startled was she by the sound, that she swallowed the breathe she'd been holding deep and hard, the air moving down her throat like a huge bubble. Letting out a strange cross between a yelp, cough and hiccup, Sorcha jumped back from the water, stumbling back onto the lake's bank. She quickly looked up across the water, squinting against the dark backdrop and bright moon's reflection.
For a moment, the green female frowned a bit, tilting her head in confusion. A wingless male was wading in her direction, apparently the one who had spoken.
Without the visual cue of wings, she was unsure whether or not to think of him as an Eoghan, or a Faeghan. But she supposed it didn't really matter. Ever since she and her brethren had begun their massive migration from the south, many had learned to inter-mingle with the locals quite nicely.
Shaking her head a bit, Sorcha came back from her own thoughts, blinking in the male's direction. "Well, y-you see... I can't, really. It would be kind of... bad if my wings got wet, you know."
And beside that, the water was really REALLY cold. Ugh.
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Posted: Tue Mar 23, 2010 7:28 pm
The closer Dunkirk waded, the better he could see, and he tilted his head curiously when he got a good look at the Eoghan's odd wings. "Never seen wings like yours before," he admitted once he was close enough that he no longer had to yell. She looked pristine compared to himself - he was still caked with mud from head to paw, his dappled coloring hidden by the dirt. He almost felt out-of-place - almost. "Where 'ya from?"
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