Sooner or later

Was this death? Red eyes peeled open to a distant light shimmering through a fractured mirror-like surface. The wave moved and stirred like a living body and it surrounded her very being. She thrashed around in a panic, uncertain of what was happening or where she was. Realisation zapped through her like a static shock. It was not some ethereal ocean carrying her through to the next life. Delta was in the water. She was being carried somewhere, but she yet lived. She felt the burn of water stinging her nostrils as she fought of air, debris scratching and snagging at her fur. The more she panicked the more water that she swallowed. Her head breached the surface of the river, but she plummeted beneath the depths once more as her legs struggled to keep her afloat. 

Her strength was sapped by the force of the rapids, small limbs ineffective as paddles to steer her towards safety instead she was a free floating body being thrown around by the whims of the river. A hoarse gasp passed through her lips when she once again surfaced, dots dancing in her vision. She was quickly losing her fight for survival.
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Resting alongside cool grounds, the ever-moving lull of summer waters pulling his brazen furs into their melancholy grasp--Flynn remained unbothered. He could be found with his lids closed gently over mossy eyes; head craned upward as if any moment, he would split that thick muzzle of his in song. Alas, there'd been no such noise from his liquored mouth... No howl, nor whine, not even a hum. That was, until, an all-too-loud yowl-of-a-yawn exited from between darkened lips, leaving a cloud of condensation in place of silence.

The young buck was tired, no, he was bloody exhausted. Reasonably, so. The amount of wolf-folk that he had encountered during his outings, the sparring, the worry of children, put a damper on everything. The stragglers were so vain, so doubtful. Some of them thought of themselves too high, whereas others swung low upon the whispers of death itself. Whether it be the current mood that loomed like smog over the heads of these oblivious people or the destruction it uplifted along the way; there was no doubt challenging times were upon them, even less doubt in what he was going to do.

Nothing.

As much as he hated to admit it, the boy had no power over the outcasts. He'd merely arise every morning, scout out the land, and return to his Queen to aid her bidding. Though, of course, the tides of today splashed him differently... And with a single, faint sound those sleepy ears of him caught a bit too well.

Atop damp legs did the prince rise; a crown of innocence and boyish wonder blinking from behind heavy lids. He desperately tried to regain himself at the sounds of a stranger, scampering around like a dazed fawn. He'd give himself a rough shake, marching outward from which he slept to cast slumbersome eyes around at nothing in particular.  

“H...Hello?” His faint voice was dwarfed by his sudden shock, a jerk of nervousness flooding over him just as tired optics flashed open. He could see her now. “W-Wait! Hold on, I'm on my way!” Struggling in the current he'd been so lazily resting by. “Just, uh, try to grip onto something! I'm coming!” How had he been so blind? But now, fogged eyes saw clearly, and how swiftly did supple legs run.

The stag accelerated gracefully, dipping along hills, jetting from corners and edges, anything he could to match her pace. He'd never done something like this before, diving headfirst into a raging river... but it was exactly what made him so well-equipped: he cared not about his wellbeing. Though this nature was not without fault, quickly finding his way over to the damsel but failing to notice the trail of crimson he left behind. It didn't matter now, he was so close. “I-I'm here! H-Hey, I'm going to grab you, um, just hold still... Uh,” He'd inwardly scold himself for making a dumb request, teeth aimed to latch onto her scruff.

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Her awareness dimmed, her own heart beat felt a distant drumming in ears that did not belong to her. The numbness flooded her body and she was barely conscious of the water. It was almost like she was floating. A warm heaviness sank through her limbs, pulling her down like chains wrapped around her paws. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to just close her eyes for a little while. Red eyes fluttered, head rolling upwards, gaze half closed staring blankly at the world as it blurred around her. She thought she heard a voice. Perhaps it was her own, but it was so faint she could not perceive if words were spoken to her or by her.

A cloudy thought tickled at her mind. The softest touch of a warning, that sleep would mean death if she truly was alive at all. But questions of her apparent mortality were premature in light of the danger that could potentially end her existence. She jerked her head upright and greedily sucked in a gasp of air. Movement stirred in the greenery, disturbing the plant life. The voice called again, pricking her dark ears with its urgency. Was someone out there?

Delta tried to call back, but all she managed was a hoarse gasp that erupted into a coughing fit. Her paws kicked to life again, splashing futilely at the water. Something was streaking through the riverside, almost as if racing against the river itself. She bobbed under again and was pushed back by the river. Something solid entered the water and was closing in on her. At first she feared that the sudden waterborne creature was coming to finish her off. Her waterlogged ears could not understand the words being spoken. His voice was a rumbling distorted bass. Teeth pinched her scruff and she tried to thrash like a fish out of water. Memories of white hot pain and the iron taste of blood oozed to the surface like pus from an ugly wound. Her attempts were feeble and she soon grew still in his jaws, resigned to her fate.

The teeth did not tear into flesh, they merely gripped it. It held her in place like an anchor or a fish on a hook. Regardless, her small body was not drifting any longer. Was he helping her? She could not believe someone would risk themselves to save her. It didn't make sense.
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Despite the newly formed laceration upon his forearm, his pace remained steadfast; ample energy expelling with each graceful kick that sliced through the water. Unbeknownst to the nearly lifeless body that dangled from his maw, the young buck had not a single clue what exactly he was attempting to save. His chocolate audits had received her call, yes, but he'd heard many now, deer included, who held the ability to speak Wolfish. It didn't matter though, as he'd already made a silent commitment to protect her, even if that meant diving headfirst into the topping depths.

“Ust... Ust a 'lil closer,” British tone muffled by wet fur and an unhealthy amount of fluid, legs now kicking frantically as he began to reach the riverbank. Truthfully, the boy had only gone swimming a few times in his life, and most of them were due to him slipping and falling on his lanky ass and narrowly avoiding eating shit. If anything was learned here, it was that those times had paid off, because sure enough, he'd made it to the edge, gently tossing what he now realised was a... Coyote...? Dog? Chupacabra? Well. He'd saved her now, so whatever she was, he was happy she was alive.

She... Was alive, wasn't she? A nervous whimper touched his lips, a wiggling nose finding itself inching ever closer to the woman before snapping his head up to look around. She certainly had picked an interesting spot to almost drown, as there wasn't much for miles but the two of them, but he was proud to say that at the least she wasn't alone. “Miss, are you alright? Please wake up... I can take you somewhere safe, just, please wake up.” Worry littered him, body dripping, fur ruffled, yet his attention remained on her. He'd thought of a few options as he stood there, and as he leaned in to lick her muzzle, he wondered if he'd picked the right (or worst) one.

—

 

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Exhaustion filled her body with a leaden heaviness as if she weighed much more than 30lbs.  Her limbs flopped uselessly against her chest, dead weight resistant to her will for them to move. A toe twitched in response, but all the fight had left her. She managed to crane her neck to look up at her rescuer? Kidnapper? Half closed crimson eyes rolled up to catch sight of a wolf tugging at her scruff before squeezing tightly shut again. She felt his voice rumble through her neck, muffled by the ruff of her neck. Flicking her wet ears she understood enough of the mumbled words to assume that he was reassuring her they were close to safety. The pressure against her neck pinched a little harder and then it was released as she was suddenly tossed albeit gently on to dry land. 

It was a softer landing than she expected, falling on her side without so much as a grunt. Her sides heaved with exertion and her lungs burned from the amount of water she’d swallowed. The voice pleaded with her to awaken and she gently stirred, black pointed ears twitching. Her return to awareness was sudden and jarring when she felt a warm fleshy wet thing touching her mouth. Her eyes snapped open, catching sight of a face hovering over hers and a tongue lapping at her muzzle. Shocked, she sucked in a breath and a coughing fit followed. Delta managed to roll on to her stomach before she threw up a bellyful of river water.

Flustered beyond words and shocked at her near death experience she gaped at him, trying to make sense of what had happened. Her thoughts were a scattered mess. River. Death. Tongue. Mouth. She tried to prioritize what she was most upset about. Almost dying won. She lifted her head, and nodded shakily. “I-..I’m fine,” she managed to speak, but her voice was hoarse. 
 
Where was she? Delta’s eyes grew wide as she looked around at their surroundings. It looked nothing like her home. There was far more greenery and trees than the plains of her homeland. Trees and vegetation overlapped, growing from every inch of soil. Moss grew from the trunks colouring the brown bark green and the only familiar colour was the blue of the sky. She let out a whimper and her head sank between her paws. Black ears flattened miserably against her crown. 

Swallowing she tried to moisten her dry mouth and soothe some of the burning in her throat. She became aware of the scent of blood and her eyes homed in on the red forming on his foreleg. It was a fresh wound obviously inflicted during her rescue. “You-You’re bleeding…. Why? Why would you-” she trailed off, unable to finish the thought. Why would you risk yourself for someone like me?
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She... She was alive. Heaving out an ungodly amount of water, but alive. Whether or not she could hear his visible excitement, along with the sudden fascination it brought, he didn't know, but nevertheless, he was beyond excited to see her... Seething in emotion. She appeared... shocked, disappointed? Cheeks of cherry causing his own to flutter in guilt and embarrassment. He supposed he had kissed her, but it was less of smooch and more um... The breath of life? Something about that made it seem as though his breath smelled horrible, but still, she was up and going.

“I... I apologise for the rude awakening, I'm not trained in mouth-to-mouth.” Chuckling, attempting anything he could to bring a cheer to her expression. Of course, he hadn't been expecting her to be jumping for joy, but depressingly, he wondered if he'd done her a disservice. The Prince wasn't one to loom on heavy thoughts, but it wasn't as if he had the faintest idea of what she had been doing moments before her rescue.

The woman hadn't struggled against him, not a single protest had left her lungs from the time he scooped her up from the time he'd placed her down. With all things considered though, she had what looked like an entire gallon of liquid swirling about her gullet... He wouldn't have talked, either. “If you don't mind me asking, what were you doing back there? Did you fall in? Trying to fish? You don't look...”

He held his tongue, head shaking lightly at the notion in his mind. It was never kind to insult a woman, especially those he'd recently met. It didn't make him any less correct in thought; she did, indeed, look scrawny, and now she looked even more disturbed than before. “Oh? My leg? Don't worry about it, Rosemary will fix me up like he always does when I topple over.” Speaking in which, she needed a doctor. “Um... I'm Flynnigan of Elkshire, most know me as Flynn, though. Would you like... To maybe get something to eat?” That might have meant he'd have to take her back home, but she didn't have to know that just yet.

—

 

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Delta’s gaze was wide and glassy, still recovering from her near death experience. Her mind could not make the connection between her last memory and waking up in the river. The voice of her mother begging her to run was more like a hazy dream than the reality she had known. She remembered teeth tearing into her flesh, but she was not bleeding. A quick look over her sodden body uncovered some superficial scratches. No deep punctures. The pack that had descended upon her like a swarm of hungry piranhas, she wondered if it was a nightmare. There was no evidence of an attack. Still it didn’t explain how she had ended up here or why the pain was more vivid to her than what she felt now. Cold and achy. 

The man who had saved her from the river realised that she was alive and he seemed… strangely happy about that. He obviously had no connection to her kin, the ones who had tried to hunt her down. He apologised for startling her awake with his attempt at mouth to mouth. The stiffness in her posture eased when she realised that his explanation for licking her muzzle made sense. Even if it was embarrassing. Only her mother had touched her so affectionately and only when she was a child. “It’s fine,” she muttered, avoiding his gaze until the flush in her cheeks cooled. 

He then asked the obvious question. Why was she in the river? Silence followed as she struggled to form an answer that wouldn’t make her sound crazy. “I..I don’t know,” she was forced to admit. The struggle to remember caused her brow to scrunch up forming a ripple of wrinkles between her eyes and the top of her nose bridge. “I was running… but they caught me,” she realised and jumped to her paws in a sudden panic. What if they were still chasing her?  Like a new born fawn her knees trembled and buckled beneath her. It wasn’t like she could run anyway. “Maybe they put me in the river,” she suggested as it was the only thing that made sense. 

Her concern for his injury was waved away with an assurance that he had someone called Rosemary to attend to him. Oddly she was envious. She didn’t have anyone like that. He was lucky, but she didn’t say that aloud. Her saviour introduced himself as Flynnigan of Elkshire more commonly known as Flynn. She didn’t presume to be one of most so she took the cautious approach with his moniker. ”Delta,” she offered her name in return, knowing that it was the least she owed him for saving her life.

 “Thanks for… ” she began and broke off, shaking her head. It was hard for her to show appreciation. It was like admitting that she owed him which in her heart she felt to be true. How could she repay a life debt? “You know,” she added, nodding at the river. 

Flynnigan offered her food and once again she was dumbstruck by his kindness. She was about to insist that she was fine when her stomach loudly growled, announcing to the world that she was starving. Heat flushed her ears, embarrassed by how obviously helpless she was. She nodded in response, giving up on resisting her stomach and holding on to her pride.
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