down they forgot, as up they grew

It's a gorgeous day, Olive couldn't help but inanely muse upon as she returned from a run amongst the prairie grasses of the plains. The verdant area they inhabited, moistened & fed by a waterfall, was a lush place she was lucky to experience certainly — but the woman was a lithe, energetic things, and she found it to be a declaration of self-love whenever she leaned into such inclinations. Self-love was godly-love, her family had always taught her, so in a way, her happiness was a form of deep prayer. Who was she not to indulge?

So Olive returned, and she descended, oxygenated blood still thrumming through her mind and body, providing clarity that she so often was desirous of. It was funny, to have come to the north on a whim, to have now found a home and a group who held her attention. However, the woman had been a nomad for as long as she could remember, and she took to loneliness as fish took to water. Even now, with a pack that numbered many, she did not seek out any of the others. She remained in her seclusion, delighted with her own company, picking at weeds and taking note of what grew around them.

One day she may bloom as a social butterfly, but it would likely be forced out of her by another, more extroverted individual. Olive was fine with her gods, and her plants.

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a smart mountain lion would not risk such a brazen entrance, but benry, by no means stupid was not much for critical thinking. he...really didn't reflect much in his actions except when being talked to, all things considered. he had...schrodinger's cat's consciousness.

but he just followed whatever nerve firings determined that walking into the canine-scent ridden sinkhole was a good idea. and he felt all the sensory highs that the sinkhole brought to him.

his head turned to the sound of..uh, foliage being torn out of the ground. it's a really specific sound. he perked up at the sight of another being, letting out a little prrt as he did. “yyyoooo,” a faint smile graced his lips. “you, uhmmnuhhh, growin that dank kush? that, um...good...oregano...?”
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Olive was not totally unfamiliar with non-lupine creatures, but she wasn't a great expert either. Most of her knowledge and stories came second-hand, with her immediate experiences having to do with plants and spirits and far less corporeal creatures. So when the cougar appeared and spoke words at her, words she understood, Olive did her best to quell the over-beating of her heart with several deep, belly breaths. Cats were not known to respect canine territory claims, just as wolves were known to strongly defend them.

Perhaps this could be figured out civilly.

Pawing one diminutive, milky foot at the earth, Olive averted her gaze. "Me? No, not yet..." she felt, suddenly, like a wisp; the wind taken out from beneath her wings, and aware of her small-ness, and her alone-ness. One sound, she assured herself silently, and my pack will be at my side. This thought bolstered her, and her tail began to sway, even though she kept her gaze pointed firmly at the ground. Olive didn't know what dank kush was, but if it was an herb that grew in humid environments, then it would surely thrive in the Hireath. "There's a garden here, somewhere... the tiny, shrouded woman wondered aloud, willing to go fetch this cat some oregano if it meant it might leave, without bloodshed.

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he blinked, owlishly at the wolf. part of him registered that her actions were strange, but thought little else of her movements than that. “aw, serious?” he chirrped. “you grow that stuff? thought it wasssa...illegal. we in colorado?” he didn't know what colorado was or even where it was located, but he knew that it was the weed capital of the world. not that he really even knew what weed was, truthfully.

benry didn't know a lot of things. but he was happy.

“you willin' ta share?” he cocked his head.
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In her fear of the cat's sudden appearance, Olive hadn't thought her decision through entirely. Now the he had eagerly accepted her suggestion of the garden, Olive felt almost immediately at an uncomfortable impass. There was nothing she wanted less than to allow him deeper in the depths of the hireath, where he might rain chaos upon their unsuspecting heads. Not when her alphaess was pregnant, and not when they had so recently suffered a breech in security.

"I already said that I don't," she snapped at his suggestion that she grew this plant, which she might have actually encountered once or twice in her life; she would never know. A witch like herself encountered many different ritual ingredients, and used different herbal remedies which were often called a myriad of names, unique to their culture and heritage. All Olive knew was that the garden which grew here wasn't hers, and she was not willing to lead this stranger to it.

Realizing that her stress was not going to make the situation any better, Olive did her best to soften, rolling her willowy shoulders up to her ears and long down her back. She took a deep breath. "I know plants, and I don't know what that is—" the woman attempted to state calmly. "My pack, they play dirty... but I don't believe they deal in the illegal trade of, what did you call it?" The woman paused, her snowy ears flitting forward with sudden, innocent curiosity. "Dink Kash?"

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“calm down,” he bristled, his casual demeanor melting away. he stared her down, watching her until her stress seemingly melted away.

he laughed, wild and sudden. “nno, yyyou, fuckin narc,” he cackled. “wwweeeed.” he said in earnest, drawling out the word more than his usual cadence allowed. “yer supposed to show me your, your badge. you got it?” he looked her over, walked around and sniffing her. “your badge?”
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Oh, now he was laughing at her. At least it was better than maiming her to death, or something similar. Olive didn't do well with jokes being made at her expense, especially when she was not a willing participant, but it truly was better than any other alternative. At him calling her a narc, her feathered ears swept back and she managed a nervous chuckle. It was clear to both of them that she knew naught of what he spoke, and the feline continually poked fun at it. Now, no wolf had ever described Olive as being a funny or silly individual, but she would try for the sake of Little Haven's sanctity.

"No..." she murmured as the cat circled around her. If she wasn't in the midst of convincing herself that he meant no harm, this action might have been taken as threatening. But Olive swallowed the knot that lay rooted in her throat, and lifted her head to engage in banter — perhaps, even, learning a thing or two more about this mysterying catweed. "Why would I need a badge?" the woman inquired, her tail restlessly dancing around her willowed ankled. "I've never needed a badge to handle weeds before— " Her eyes narrowed. " —not even for my best poisons." Certain plants required an experienced handler, but she was always up to task. The little witch practiced and practiced with her herbs, generally on herself, before administering care to any other person. Even with this, no badge came as a reward for her efforts; only a sense of pride, and godly understanding of how the energies of the earth worked together. With this thought lighting her next movement, she stamped a fiery paw a single pace closer to the cougar, who seemed to glimmer as he prowled in the dappled sunlight.

She might not know weed, but she wanted to.

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he squinted at her, puzzled at her confusion. pretty good for a cop, but not great. “cuz, cuzzz yer a narc. cops gottaaa, gotta, uhm, show their badge. when you ask.” he tacked on 'helpfully'. he was just playing with her, but he could never stop of his own volition. he'd keep this 'narc' thing going for as long as possible, since it would still be hilarious, especially when it got old.

“ohhh, what? police brutality? you, you uhhh, slippin' poison into drug-dealersss, uh, stash?” he accused, wide-eyed. “gonna, gonna reaaallllly need yer badge now. yeah. report you to, tooouhhhh, see-an-end — CNN.”
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Slowly but surely, Olive's apprehension was melting away. It was slowly becoming clear that this cat was not toying with her in a way that was supposed to drive her truly batty, or harbored intense ill will towards the wolves of Little Haven. As Olive continued to observe him, he simple seemed like a silly, inconsequential presence — not one that she would ever let her guard down around entirely, but she could find away to enjoy this interaction and touch a part of herself that she rarely got to explore: the silly, make-believe, imaginative part of herself.

The suggestion that she was going around poisoning drug-dealers was not too far from the truth. It's how she fancied to think of herself, oftentimes — an unsung heroine, doing the Gods' work. "Perhaps I do," she chirped, a wisp of a smile gracing her finespun maw for the first time since she had come upon the golden interloper.  "I believe that might be less police brutality, and more of being an effective narc." the woman began, tipping her head towards him, ivy-crawling gaze tracking his every serpentine movement. Then she lifted her head and ears brightly, suggestively.

"Are you sure you want my weeds now?"

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slowly, benry came to the pleased conclusion that she was playing align with his ill-defined game. he squinted at her. “naah, this.. uh, this ain't judge dredd, yknow? cops, s'they just catch'em.” the cat stepped forth, breaking the invisible barrier that had laid between them and towered over her, eyes burning with illegible intent. “yer just, just reaaaaal bad cop right now. boo, go directly, rectly to jail, pig. ay, cab. — ACAB” if he was trying to be intimidating it was all ruined by his peculiar expression: his ears splayed to the side and his tongue sticking out. but it was usually likely that he wasn't.
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Honestly, Olive didn't know half of what this cat was talking about. It almost like he was speaking another language — in fact, the witch assumed he was — so Olive nodded vigorously at all the words he said as if she understood perfectly. One didn't need a common language in order to play; in fact, it was one of the few things in life that transcended that need entirely. That consideration alone prevented her nervousness from rising once again as he stepped forward and over her, with a demeanor that did not entirely read threatening.

The little witch shifted her weight to the back of her carriage, bending at the knee so that she shifted downwards mere inches, affording a minimal amount of space between them. The gilded feline was so close that, if she wanted to reach out and touch him with a paw, she could; and perhaps a braver wolf would, but Olive dared him with her ivy-eyes wide, and a quiet "Are you gonna make me?"

—which was then followed by a small, sharp inhale as Olive instantly realized she regretted having said that.

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benry's eyes dilated with a speed that was abnormal for him, turning his gray-green eyes into spheres of black ringed by a sliver of color. his tongue retreated back into his mouth, a lazy grin replacing the previously dopey expression. “yeah man, citizen's arrest.” it was the only warning he gave, something that would be understood by a fairly different crowd, but certainly not this wolf (though she had done a good job at fooling him so far). rearing back on his haunches, his paws came up to pull the woman's head into a headlock, his claws barely sheathed.
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It was strange how, in a flash, the cat's expression and demeanor changed. Olive, ever-perceptive as she was, noticed how his pupils dilated rather dramatically — her hesitation after her risqué dare had done well to prepare her for his next reaction. Then suddenly, it was as if Olive had entered some small trance state, only in that her ability to sense energy was heightened; and this cat's electricity sparked so fiercely, so instantaneously, that the witch's intuition immediately reacted. The shrouded woman shimmied — nay, scurried — backwards, letting out an audible gasp as the feline's embraced closed upon nothingness, and bumped up against a back wall of the subterranean Hireath.

Olive scrambled to cover up her immediate alarm. "Oh, sir— there is no need..." She wasn't yet certain he was an imposing threat (she had been tempting him, had she not?) but the woman could not help but become increasingly agitated at the cat's incidental familiarity. Still, she didn't want to antagonize him, or cause alarm within Little Haven for a situation which still might end peacefully, and without fracture. Olive managed a twist of smile, which she still felt was genuine. Still, she carefully regarded him, the howl for assistance beginning to coalesce in the back of her throat, ready to be loosed should the situation continue to get out of hand. "I have freely admit my crimes," she said cooly with a downturn of her nose — but her eyes were ever-watchful. "Don't I deserve parole, for good behavior?"

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“oh whoops” he said when his paws met together on open air. he wobbled a bit, falling forward heavily on his front limbs. “booo, plea deal,” he stuck his tongue out once more, this time more obviously in disgust rather than...emptyheadedness. he stepped forward, crowding her space even as she began to flee him.

he thought for a while, blinking slowly. his pupils slowly returned to their normal radii, revealing his eye color once more. he smacked his lips together. “yeah, but uhhsssomeone's gotta be yer, yer parole officer. i'm, im gonna have to follow you, 'round.” his tongue slid out to lick his nose, then his chops. he began to speak before he finished the action, adding more awful lip noises to his words. “mmmake sure you don't break parole.”
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When she scurried backwards, the cougar did not seemed to take offense or be alarmed, but he did move upon her once again; and it was at this moment that the shrouded sylph realized the earthen wall behind her, and she hunkered down in her haunches one more, subtle shrinking as the howl in the pit of her throat roiled deeper, turning into the smallest vibrato of a growl. "I suppose that's true," she answered, her voice sounding airy at his suggestion that he be her officer, of sorts.

Olive had a difficult time ascertaining his degree of seriousness, as she had throughout their entire interaction, but she knew immediately his suggestion was an impossibility. The relationship between cats and wolves was far too contentious, as they did not abide by the same laws; already, if any other member of Little Haven had stumbled upon this interloper, it might have manifested far differently. Still, the witch continued to play along, not exactly sure how or when to stop. "If you are to be my keeper, then what's your name?"

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he nodded with rare sincerity. “gotta, mmm, gotta make sure you keep on your best behavior,” he swished his tail behind him, still keeping his towering posture above her. he seemed to mold himself into the 'officer' role, with square shoulders and a rigid neck. had someone walked in now, he'd look genuine, a far cry from the (would-be) stoner slump he had donned just previously.

“benry,” he said flatly, like a soldier answering a drill sergeant. then he grinned, cackling at a joke in his head. “parole officer benry. wha...whaz yer name?”
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Like any man with a job to do, the cat buttoned himself right up — but did not relent in his elevated posture, and neither did Olive with her (somewhat submissive) one. They just looked at each other down the barrel of their muzzles, introducing themselves in a way that goaded Olive to believe that, no, there was no way this cat meant ill-will. Whether or not it caused ill was still to be seen; but if it did, it would be an accident, and not because either of them willed it. That, at the very least, was clear.

"I am Olive," the woman returned sweetly, appreciating the simplicity of his moniker. It seemed to match his personality — or whatever aspect of his personality she had glimpsed here today. "I fear that minding me might be an impossibly boring task," she offered him an obvious out, if he found himself dug a little too deep. Certainly, he must still be play and mustn't actually be serious. " —all I do these days is hunt, sleep and tend to my medicines." Besides being hyperbolic, a smidgen of the truth colored her words. With her joining Little Haven came a ceasing to her adventures, to which Benry had provided a nice interlude.

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olive. “like the...uhhh....” he blanked out for a moment, unknowingly droning as his brain buffered. was an olive a fruit? “plant? ttrrree?” she'd probably know more about that than he did. she was obviously the alchemist here, with all her knowledge of poisons and illicit drugs.

he said nothing to this last ditch effort to get rid of him, only stuck his tongue out once more and let out a dismissive “pfft!” he finally broke away from her space, walking away from the stone wall before throwing his head back (in a vertical parabola, rather than turning side to side) and fixing her with his glare. “you do whatever, i'll make sure you, you don't kill no one.” he suddenly winced, letting out a quiet “ow” as he righted himself and turned his whole body to her.
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Olive could not help but stifle a giggle as the cat broke away and cut a silly figure — all in an attempt to keep an eye on her, for sure. " 'tis a bitter fruit," the medicine woman made sure to clarify, regarding her namesake. "yet, the olive tree still represent peace." The meaning of an olive branch would change depending on who extended it, and often gave Olive much to ponder; yet, it was a funny reality that she had been named after the jade color of her eyes, rather than the magical meaning of the tree and its fruit. Perhaps her mother had named her for one; but Olive far preferred the other.

The woman smiled as a thought came to her. "You intrigue me," she commented, turning her cheek to the side, peering at him from the corners of narrowed eyes. "but I must attend to duties beyond The Hiraeth," she fibbed, gesturing with her gaze upwards towards the mouth of the sinkhole, where the day's luminosity managed to peer through in strands big and small. Then her gaze fell back upon Benry, who was facing her once again. "I suppose my parole officer must accompany me?"

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“bitter. is it poisonous?” he frowned at her, though it looked more like an incredulous pout. “don't mean to profile, buuuuuuttt, i'm gonna write that down. reasonable doubt.” he rolled onto his side, his pale belly fur pointing towards her. he leaned so that his head and shoulders were up, the rest of his body flat on the ground, though one paw was curved skyward, revealing his toe beans in all their glory.

his gaze followed her, back the way that he had come. benry slowly came to his feet, stretching momentarily before humming quietly — “mmhm,” — and lapsing off into silence, becoming her silent, unnerving shadow.
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