Post by Dante on Apr 19, 2009 4:19:22 GMT -8
Splish.
Splish.
Thump.
The sound of rough breathing.
"Dammit. Still bleeding." A quiet growl.
The massive Shire craned around to look at his wounds. Low on his barrel were numerous scratchy-looking tears in his hide. They bled profusely, sending livid scarlet trickles down his legs. For all their drama factor, they seemed dwarfed on his huge frame- like they were trying to start a soap opera with a complimentary bar from a hotel.
The Shire groaned and rolled his eyes. The wounds were superficial. And annoying. The deadpanned disgust in the gesture would have made a teenager sick with envy.
With a staticky sort of growl that suggested swearwords, Dante heaved himself off the rock. He was a minstrel and merrymaker who wandered from place to place; the rock was a humongeous hunk of slate, rounded at the top, that emerged through the edge of a small pool. He stood in the pond, almost up to his knees, dripping ripples across the surface and bleeding.
Beautiful place for one of those days.
With a sigh and a grudge, he trudged- out of the water and onto the land. Before him, the mountain valley rose, emerald and flawless, into sternly majestic steel peaks. The delicate sky beyond (pristine blue with dragon's-breath clouds wreathed across it) came to perfect rest on the surface of the pond. It reflected like a cobalt mirror, now that the last of his ripples had raced across it.
Dante turned, and sighed again. It was not a "breathless with the beauty of it all" sigh. It was an "I am so tired I'd rather settle this quietly than go psycho on your ass" sigh.
It was also one that really did not expect that to happen.
He gave -the forest, it happened to be: a blanket of pine falling away down the lowering ground- the eye one more time- one last chance to meep and scuttle off to somebody else's problem. Then he stalked forth to wreak havoc.
Suzuki collapsed, sweaty and panting. The coffee-and-white she-wolf cut a shamefaced glance at Tekeyo, the beta; he caught her eyes, then looked away. The lean white wolf was stoic and prim normally- with the failure of the first hunt since his promotion, he was practically frigid with unease. Suzu slumped further, burning with misery. She'd wanted to help him. She knew that, to the young orphan, honor and prestige meant everything. She'd wanted to make him look good.
His gold eyes flickered to hers momentarily, then returned with apprehension to Anderson. The alpha was making a stand, about to address the pack. He stood on a stray boulder in the woodland, the bottom boughs of the pines barely a handspan above his ears.
"My people, we have met with failure once again." Anderson's voice had the quality of an old commander's- hoarse and carrying, not beautiful, but with the strength of an orator. The wolves below him on the needles squirmed. No one liked to disappoint Anderson. There was just something about the grizzled wolf- made you swell with pride when he smiled, laid you lower than a worm when he scowled.
"We cannot do this much longer. Maia's pups must eat. Rabbits and quail may tide them over for now, but they won't forever. We need another big kill. Now."
Anderson's gaze roved over the hunting detail. No one met his gaze.
It didn't take a genius to read that popular opinion. Anderson sighed. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. Irascible, absolute, but forgiving.
"All of you are on half rations as of now. There'll be another hunt tonight." He paused, waiting. A shiver went around the circle; haltingly, Suzu and some others looked up to the unyielding figure on the rock.
Shocked silence. A few dropped jaws.
That wasn't the reaction he expected.
"What are you staring at...?"
DOOOOOMM.
There was an all-encompassing silence, as wolves stared at horse and horse at wolves. It seemed to stretch for an eternity.
Then Dante stuck his neck out and grabbed Anderson by the scruff.
"MY LOR-!!" 'Keyo snapped out of it first. Horrorstruck visions flashed before him. Anderson, beaten against the trees. Anderson, spine bitten through. Anderson, thrown as far as the stag could reach. He bolted to his feet.
But could do no more. The stallion stood -perfectly- -still- an echo of the alpha who hung, flabbergasted, from his jaws. His eyes burned. Roved- from each wolf in the circle, to the white beta at the foot of the rock. Condemned.
You have earned what will happen next.
Doom settled upon them. The end...
Then Dante turned.
And absconded.
...Anderson in tow.
[[LOL. I've been wanting to do this since forever. The wolves are evolving... XD *sweat* I hope nobody minds. They're public domain, NPCs, so take 'em and use 'em like you will. This is just Dante's introduction to the site, so don't bother replying. ;D By the way, what he's doing now is taking Anderson (and the rest of the wolves, hot on his tail) on a high-speed 'tour' of the Mountains.
(He lets 'em go, eventually.)]]
Splish.
Thump.
The sound of rough breathing.
"Dammit. Still bleeding." A quiet growl.
The massive Shire craned around to look at his wounds. Low on his barrel were numerous scratchy-looking tears in his hide. They bled profusely, sending livid scarlet trickles down his legs. For all their drama factor, they seemed dwarfed on his huge frame- like they were trying to start a soap opera with a complimentary bar from a hotel.
The Shire groaned and rolled his eyes. The wounds were superficial. And annoying. The deadpanned disgust in the gesture would have made a teenager sick with envy.
With a staticky sort of growl that suggested swearwords, Dante heaved himself off the rock. He was a minstrel and merrymaker who wandered from place to place; the rock was a humongeous hunk of slate, rounded at the top, that emerged through the edge of a small pool. He stood in the pond, almost up to his knees, dripping ripples across the surface and bleeding.
Beautiful place for one of those days.
With a sigh and a grudge, he trudged- out of the water and onto the land. Before him, the mountain valley rose, emerald and flawless, into sternly majestic steel peaks. The delicate sky beyond (pristine blue with dragon's-breath clouds wreathed across it) came to perfect rest on the surface of the pond. It reflected like a cobalt mirror, now that the last of his ripples had raced across it.
Dante turned, and sighed again. It was not a "breathless with the beauty of it all" sigh. It was an "I am so tired I'd rather settle this quietly than go psycho on your ass" sigh.
It was also one that really did not expect that to happen.
He gave -the forest, it happened to be: a blanket of pine falling away down the lowering ground- the eye one more time- one last chance to meep and scuttle off to somebody else's problem. Then he stalked forth to wreak havoc.
Suzuki collapsed, sweaty and panting. The coffee-and-white she-wolf cut a shamefaced glance at Tekeyo, the beta; he caught her eyes, then looked away. The lean white wolf was stoic and prim normally- with the failure of the first hunt since his promotion, he was practically frigid with unease. Suzu slumped further, burning with misery. She'd wanted to help him. She knew that, to the young orphan, honor and prestige meant everything. She'd wanted to make him look good.
His gold eyes flickered to hers momentarily, then returned with apprehension to Anderson. The alpha was making a stand, about to address the pack. He stood on a stray boulder in the woodland, the bottom boughs of the pines barely a handspan above his ears.
"My people, we have met with failure once again." Anderson's voice had the quality of an old commander's- hoarse and carrying, not beautiful, but with the strength of an orator. The wolves below him on the needles squirmed. No one liked to disappoint Anderson. There was just something about the grizzled wolf- made you swell with pride when he smiled, laid you lower than a worm when he scowled.
"We cannot do this much longer. Maia's pups must eat. Rabbits and quail may tide them over for now, but they won't forever. We need another big kill. Now."
Anderson's gaze roved over the hunting detail. No one met his gaze.
It didn't take a genius to read that popular opinion. Anderson sighed. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. Irascible, absolute, but forgiving.
"All of you are on half rations as of now. There'll be another hunt tonight." He paused, waiting. A shiver went around the circle; haltingly, Suzu and some others looked up to the unyielding figure on the rock.
Shocked silence. A few dropped jaws.
That wasn't the reaction he expected.
"What are you staring at...?"
DOOOOOMM.
There was an all-encompassing silence, as wolves stared at horse and horse at wolves. It seemed to stretch for an eternity.
Then Dante stuck his neck out and grabbed Anderson by the scruff.
"MY LOR-!!" 'Keyo snapped out of it first. Horrorstruck visions flashed before him. Anderson, beaten against the trees. Anderson, spine bitten through. Anderson, thrown as far as the stag could reach. He bolted to his feet.
But could do no more. The stallion stood -perfectly- -still- an echo of the alpha who hung, flabbergasted, from his jaws. His eyes burned. Roved- from each wolf in the circle, to the white beta at the foot of the rock. Condemned.
You have earned what will happen next.
Doom settled upon them. The end...
Then Dante turned.
And absconded.
...Anderson in tow.
[[LOL. I've been wanting to do this since forever. The wolves are evolving... XD *sweat* I hope nobody minds. They're public domain, NPCs, so take 'em and use 'em like you will. This is just Dante's introduction to the site, so don't bother replying. ;D By the way, what he's doing now is taking Anderson (and the rest of the wolves, hot on his tail) on a high-speed 'tour' of the Mountains.
(He lets 'em go, eventually.)]]
