I'M ON A BOAT (lupus mist)

[Sivoncé™]

At the heart of a gently swaying field of sweet herb and wolfnip, the guru sat in a relaxed, serene pose of meditation. In a soft, feathery whisper, he murmured soft words on the wind. "Let the powers of Lupus invested in me show me the Waaayyy to happiness and wonder! Let us take the journey to candy mountain CHARLIEEEE! COME WITH US TO THE PLACE FILLED WITH MAGIC AND CANDY AND WONDER!"

Nearby, Fertile Crecent watched with wide eyes and a plump preggo belly. She gazed at it fretfully every now and then, and then turned her eyes to the guru. "Sandbox, what do you mean? I want to know if the birthing will go smoothly! We can't take any journeys until I pop these babies out!"

Mesopotamia rolled her eyes at Fertile Crecent. She looks like a freaking oompa-loompa.

[Destiny]

"The apparently all-knowing Sandbox appears to be communicating with some spirit known as Charlie. It is not yet apparent whether or not the information will be useful, however. Fertile Crescent, still preggo, appears somewhat distressed that the guru has yet to determine whether or not her birthing will go smoothly." Narrator was looking from one wolf to the other, whilst speaking in a classic t.v. announcer style voice. "Meanwhile, Mesopotamia, resident Diva, seems to be thinking something probably snide about Fertile Crescent. More updates with that soon."

[Sivoncé™]

( LOL!)

Fertile Crecent's ears flicked towards Narrator. Her eyes widened at the commentary and she turned to Mesopotamia with an expression of surprise and hurt. "Why would you do that? I'm bearing little lives in my belly! There's nothing about me that's worth a snide comment from you! Think about m-my HORMONES!" She burst into heavy sobs.

Mesopotamia rolled her eyes and muttered something intelligible.

Meanwhile, Sandbox was having some sort of seisure....or, erm, commune with the spirits.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

(( xDXD Wonderful. And Lucifer must come here ))

Plush grass bending under the superior weight of treading paws, two wolves loped calmly across the summer field. Two and a half, actually, if you count the bundle that the female carried between her jaws. And in that grasp, King George began to squirm, but neither of the adults paid any heed. They were heading for the cluster of wolves in the center of the meadow, where two looked particularly… odd. And the others were as “normal” as “normal” could be.
Which wasn’t saying much.
Finally, Wolfie halted, dropping King George at her paws. Denmark mimicked her movements, dropping the elk hind leg that he had been dutifully dragging along. Looking to her sibling, Wolfie murmured, “I think Sandbox is in one of those trances.” Lifting her head, she called to the guru. “Any new messages?”
“Ya know, one day the ol’ guy will actually be having a—oh no.” The color drained from Denmark’s face, if that were possible. “Hormones! HIDE ME!” Denmark immediately barreled straight into one of the few thickets that littered the clearing.
King George simply rolled his eyes and sat beside Narrator.
Wolfie yawned. "Has anybody seen Atlantis around?"

[Destiny]

"It would appear that Fertile Crescent is having a bit of a break down at the moment - are hormones to blame? She seems to think so. I, the Narrator, prefer to think that she is simply being over-sensitive. Don't tell her that though; her 'hormones' might send her into a raging fit." Narrator cleared her throat at that, and bent down to snap up some wolf-nip she'd hauled over earlier in the morning. She'd been taking a little bite every so many hours, so that the feel-good feeling could last all day long! Genius, no? "Mesopotamia is still being a diva, but now appears to be speaking with herself. Perhaps she has miraculously developed the ability to talk to spirits, like Sandbox! Speaking of which, our knowledgeable guru is in the middle of a commune by the look of things. I can't wait to see what he has to say today. ."

A few moments later, Narrator turned to see an adorably fluffy King George at her side, and grinned in the broadest of manners. "My good friend King George is back from. . Where-ever he was! I shall now ask him about such." She dropped the tone, and slipped into her natural voice, which was a fair bit higher than the announcer-style one. "Hey Georgie! Where have you been?"

"DAMNIT DENMARK!"

The 'yell' came from the thicket that said cursed-out wolf had come running into. There was a fair bit of rustling, a spot of black tail visible out the other side, and with a lot of shaking and growling crookedly a black wolf backed himself out of it. "Watch where you're GOING for Lupus sake." Atlantis gave a cross snarl at the thicket, and then glanced around at the gathered wolves.

[Sivoncé™]

Fertile Crecent cursed under her breath and snatched Narrator's wolfnip away from her. She munched moodily on the sweet, juicy leaves while glaring steadily at Narrator with revulsion. "You're just a sick-minded heartless cockroach, Narrator. I can't believe you would say that to a pregnant lady!" Meanwhile, she looked around for Denmark, frowning when she couldn't see him. "Hey honey? Come here and pick out names with me!"

"So demanding!" Mesopotamia rolled her eyes once more at Fertile Crecent, then strutted over to Atlantis with a flirtacious smile on her lips. "Hey there."

Suddenly, a loud groaning noise came from Sandbox. Enormous, thundering snores racked through his body. Ooops -- that wasn't a vision/seisure, he just fell asleep during meditation.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

I hate it when they call me Georgie…
Quietly, he stifled his protests, and smiled his acknowledgement at Narrator. Lifting a paw, he motioned toward Denmark, and then to Wolfie.

Wolfie, noticing the attention, laughed and seated herself beside the two wolves. “He was observing us—for hunting tips, I’d gather.” She then returned to the carcass and dragged the elk leg into the center of the huddle. “Feel free to dig in people—Atlantis! There you are!”

Denmark stumbled out of the bushes, casting a small scowl at his packmate. “Well, then, someone woke up on the wrong side of the den. And, uh…” He cleared his throat, hesitant. “…erm… y-yes, babe. Coming…” Dragging himself to Fertile Crescent’s side, he settled beside her, sending several miserable prayers to the heavens to save him.

Wolfie bypassed her brother, oblivious to his suffering, and gave Atlantis… a hug, of sorts. “Atlantis, where’ve you been? We wanted you for the hunting party this morning, but I couldn’t find you!” And by that, I mean that you left me with Denmark, you son of a—

“Hey, it looks like Sandbox is going deep into the zone,” Denmark noted, creeping forward to nibble on the edge of the corpse. “Must be important.”

[Destiny]

Either she was to zoned into George to notice Fertile Crescent, or she simply didn't care enough to respond. Narrator made a sort of 'ooo' sound, though, at the explanation. It was about time Georgie got to see some real action around this place! She wagged her tail slightly, tongue lolling out of her mouth, to far into stupid wolf-ish-ness to narrate at the moment. Suddenly - "HEY!" Gaze swept over the ground frantically, and she scowled. "Where did my wolfnip go?! Who hath STOLEN IT?!" Idiot.

Atlantis just sort of, well, stared, at Mesopotamia, for a second. Then he put on his most suave smile, and flicked her across the ear with his tail. "Mornin'." Attention shifted over to his Alphess, though, when he was addressed. Gulping quietly, he dipped his head forward in silent apology. "I was out patrolling our land last night in case of intruders.. Didn't get back 'till early this morning, and then I just sort of passed out in the bushes to sleep." Eheh..

[Sivoncé™]

Sandbox continued to snore =P

Fertile Crecent nibbled dejectedly at her wolfnip. "You liked me so much more before you went and got me pregnant," she grumbled. Her eyes were sad and cryish, so she focused on munching her wolfnip. Worriedly, she blinked at Sandbox. I hope this isn't a bad sign.

Mesopotamia took her share of the meal, eyes still flickering towards Atlantis now and then. With Denmark preocuppied and Sanbox...well...doing his weird guru thing, Mesopotamia had dubbed Atlantis her new "project". "That was awful brave of you -- staying up all night just to protect us," she barked to him with a wag of her tail.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Before Denmark could confirm Fertile Crescent’s suspicions, Wolfie swung a tail into his face to prevent him from speaking. She then sighed heavily, putting a paw on Atlantis’ shoulder, and sort of leaning on the far taller male. “Good. For a while there, I thought you had gone and died,” she murmured seriously. “Do you have any idea how hard it would be to replace you? DO YOU!?”
She coughed, wiping the foam from her maw with her forelimb. “Ahem, anyhow… I do hope Sandbox wakes up soon. He’ll miss dinner… breakfast… lunch-ish… food.”

At Narrator’s panic attack, King George raised a paw and pointed at Fertile Crescent.

[Sivoncé™]

Fertile Crecent took Denmark's silence as confirmation and cried softly. Though, she managed to deliver King George the death glare before continuing to cry. At least it wasn't a noisy cry.

Sandbox suddenly blinked open his eyes and sat up quickly, rubbing his head and muttering something intelligible. "I....I had the strangest dream..."

[Destiny]

A 'brow appeared to raise in the direction of the Diva, and a sort of handsome-gentleman's-type-of-grin pulled up half of his muzzle. He couldn't help it! He was, after all, a studly charmer. Or, at least, that's how these ladies kept making him feel. Woohoo for being a stud! "Why thank you, Mesopotamia. It's nice to know how much you appreciate me." A half-assed but still lovely wink was given in her direction.

Narrator looked, wide-eyed, at Georgie, and then swung her head around in the direction of Fertile Crescent. "You BITCH! .. Well I suppose technically you are a bitch.. But. Still. You BITCH! You could have at least ASKED! I NEED THAT TO STAY SANE YOU KNOW!" The poor thing's fur was all on end and everything. Aw. Poor wolf.

Atlantis puffed out his chest in the direction of the Alphess, and gave the fur a quick lick to straighten it up. He was absolutely loving this extra attention, what could he say? "Well, I suppose it wouldn't exactly be easy. . I'll try to let you know before-hand next time I'm out all night, of course, Wolfie."

There was a just sort of delirious howl from off in the bushes somewhere. Had someone else gotten into the wolfnip? Lawdy.

[.Rabid Lycan.]

Georgie rolled his eyes slightly, but opted to humor the near-rabid femme. The pup padded all regal-like up to Narrator and nuzzled her stomach fur with his tiny muzzle. He offered a small, comforting smile. Aw.

Denmark grudgingly flattened his ears, and mumbled a hardly incomprehensible message under his breath. “That’s not true… you’re still mah babe.” He then buried his head in the meat of the elk remains and nommed noisily to himself.

Wolfie nodded approvingly to Atlantis and Denmark in turn, only to swivel about—thoroughly on edge—at the sound of the alien noise. “WHATWASTHAT!?” Not waiting for an answer, Wolfie slipped off to investigate the said “delirious howl”.

[Sivoncé™]

"MAN, HOLD UP!"
Sandbox got to his paws and moved to the middle of the group, panting heavily. "I....I....HAVE SEEN SOMETHING!"

Fertile Crecent ignored Denmark completely -- he was in the dog house right now as far as she was concerned She also ignored King George and Narrator -- effectively delivering the cold shoulder on three fronts. She continued to munch dejectedly on the stolen wolfnip. She gasped loudly as Sandbox made his announcement -- the half-chewed leaves of wolfnip feel from her astonished mouth. Between the mysterious howl and Sandbox's vision, a panic had formed in her gut and was galloping into a squeal of scaredness very, very quickly. But suddenly, it occurred to her that Narrator had just called her a bitch. She glared coldly at Denmark -- busily nomming on elk -- then flashed her teeth at Narrator. "Well, you are a butthead!"

Mesopotamia nodded cooly in return to Atlantis, but was distracted as Wolfie ran off. She took a half-step after her alpha, but the sounds of a sprouting bitch-fight made her turn away and sit down eagerly to watch.