Veratrum album

@Daighre

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Oleander took a sip from the pool before them, the cool water refreshing them and helping the clean off the blood from their previous hunt. After they finished, they looked outwards and took in the sights all around.

It was quite a scenic view, with the clear water that appeared almost pristine. Trees loomed over and surrounded the lake, which were reflected in its even surface, almost like a mirror to another world. It was quiet, aside from the calls of various birds in the distance and the autumn winds causing the branches of trees to sway and shudder every now and then.

Somewhere nearby, they saw a wolf they recalled encountering some moons ago. The one that gave them the nickname blue balls of all things. The memory still tickled the raven a bit.

The male intrigued Oleander. They thought it was very amusing how snappy he was, always having that sour look painted on his face. Something told them that he'd be very entertaining to rile up. They'd just have to carefully figure out how to push the right buttons.

"It's nice to see you again." the raven purred, their tail gently swaying. "How's life been treating you?"

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Ugh.

It was him.

Again.

His hackles bristled.

He slouched and stared.

”Fine.”

He wanted a fucking drink, not whatever fucking brand of crazy fucking blue balls fucking was.

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Oleander calmly stared back, unaffected by the way the male's hackles raised. Such an irritable one that he was. Their smile widened as they relaxed and sat down on their haunches.

"That's nice to hear. I'm doing quite well myself." The raven responded with a nod. They looked up to the heavens, noting the scattering of white clouds occasionally floating on past the sun. It most likely wasn't going to rain any time soon. 

Their crimson gaze darted back over to the other once more. "I never got your name last time. You can call me Oleander."  

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”Daighre.”

He didn’t give a shit about what fucking Blue Ball’s fucking name was.

He passed by him to the water’s edge to get a drink.

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Oleander chuckled. "Daighre, huh?" they spoke, testing the name on their tongue. After relaxing a bit more, they settled down on their haunches. "Well, it's quite a pleasure to meet you, despite how prickly you are."

Judging from Daighre's attitude, he'd most likely rather be anywhere that isn't around the raven. So, they decided they would make it much more miserable of an experience for the male. All for their own enjoyment. It was simply just something that helped the time pass by quicker.

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He grunted.

His head down.

His ears matted back.

---

He drank.

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No response.

One of their ears flicked as they stole a glance at Daighre, his ears pinned back against his head. It was working somewhat, they were sure of it. Things like this took time. They sat there as they wondered what the other would say or do next.

After a stretch of silence, Oleander spoke once again. "It's a beautiful day, is it not? Sure, it's getting chillier. But, a little cold never did hurt anyone." they let out a gentle sigh, looking out over the lake. "I could weave so many poems out of such a captivating view."

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Heavily and greedily, he drank.

His head down.

His front paws at the lake’s edge.

The water was cold and cool against his tongue and against his throat. It dropped and dripped and spilled from his lips down onto his muzzle and chin and then down onto his neck and chest.

He swallowed and stepped back.

He licked his lips.

“I don’t give a shit.” He grunted.

It was a body of fucking water surrounded by fucking dirt and dead grass and dying trees.

None of it fucking mattered.

None of it fucking meant anything.

He was just fucking crazy.

He shook himself dry.

“See you the fuck around, Oliver.”

He bared his teeth when he passed.

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