Cecil \o/
I know its not technically a Western film and neither Nate nor Cecil are French-speaking Canadians but im using this movie as my thread title anyway ok there will never be another opportunity

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How hard could it be to catch a giant wolfeating frogthing, anyway?

Nate was utterly, enthusiastically, irrationally determined.

There's a story my Eduda told me. About how when the sun goes dark, y'know, an eclipse? He looked over his shoulder briefly at Cecil to check they were still listening, before returning to his stalk of the shoreline. Well, it's because a great big giant frog is trying to eat her. So we all have to holler and shout and bang on drums to scare the frog into spitting her back up, and bring the light back.

A somewhat more comical tale than that of the Redbird. But he had room in his heart to be endeared by both.

Nate pressed down a bunch of cattails, nose wrinkling and, Phthewy-ing as their tops brushed his muzzle. Only little croakers scattered into the lake, songs ending with little plunks as they escaped into dark waters.

He pulled back, shaking cattail fluff and grasshoppers off his fur. His tail was wagging. So, y'know. Maybe this is that frog. Stranger things have happened.

Everything you write is so immersive im just klsdjhflkjhsad <3

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Could be! Nate replied, face lit up like a kind of sun itself when Cecil joined in the theorizing. You know, it tried to eat the moon when I first woke up here, too. He skimmed over the worst day of his life with euphemism, unwilling to surrender to brooding when there were, potentially, giant frogs running amok to be found.

That bit of trivia was the main reason for Walosi's name. His first impression of Mythris — overambitious amphibians. When he'd told Chakliux that would be the name of the village, Nate still hadn't really given serious consideration to a village ever forming. He'd offered it as half a joke. And now — Now they were the Frog Tribe.

Eduda would have laughed.

A lubber landed on his nose, bright red. He went cross-eyed admiring it. Right, so uh, no eating the giant tadpoles then. Giant tadpoles, now there was something else to look out for!

Catholics got a Flood story, too. No horny toad mentioned specifically, but God was mad at all the evil in the world and sent water to wash it clean. Had Noah, only good man left alive, make a great big boat to save a few of every animal, and remake the world after. Nate's lip twisted. He shook the lubber loose, off into the grass.

Where he landed between the lessons Pa and Eduda had taught him was hard to place, most days. He avoided thinking on it too hard the way he avoided anything that required blatant vulnerability regarding his old life.

Here in Walosi, everyone seemed to think something different. Nate wanted all the stories. Maybe none of them were true. Maybe all of them were. He was pretty sure he was the last wolf alive with any right to be deciding what the One Truth was regarding Divinity.

So, I dunno. Maybe God is also a giant frog. And He was living in their lake.

;A; <333

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Chucking, Nate high-stepped through the deeper water, abandoning a pretense of stealth. Maybe it could blend into the bank like a chameleon, and if he startled it, they'd see it jump! Y'know, the Good Book wasn't very specific as to what was wicked.

His Pa had maintained some opinions. Namely the sin of intermarrying with savages which, well, sort of left Nate in a bind as the fruits of such an unholy union. Evil by design.

He tried to be generous. Cato had made a single mistake and for that, lost his priesthood and the esteem of his brothers. Orders came down to marry the girl he put child in by men closer to God than he. His penance was to be raising a good Christian son from the black of sin. So really, Cato had done the best he could, and how could you not expect a little resentment?

Nate knew he'd never make his Pa proud.

But after a year of living among the wolves, where blood mattered less than character, and for some reason folks saw fit to call Nate a chief — he was realizing how exhausting it had all been. Going into everything knowing he was destined for defeat. Hearing and seeing and feeling, from near every face he met, that he was less than. Or worse, something to be pitied.

Nate had a sense that hating himself hadn't really brought him and closer to a connection with the Divine. But being here, among friends, and loving and caring for them all — that was starting to feel sacred.

I think there's a few choice verses about how important it is to seek God, though, so... really we're just doing what we oughta. He chuckled, pausing to squint at a dark blotch in the water before deciding it was just an algae-coved rock. I was thinking of calling this the Walosi Frog, though, actually. 'Cause it's, y'know, the frog. That lives in Walosi.