The bright side

POSTED: Wed Apr 19, 2017 9:21 pm

There have been a number of casualties in the form of wildlife. Enlist a packmate to keep the territory free from the bodies of these unfortunate victims of disease.


Word Count → 247 :: Out of Character text
The rain had been bad enough, the Vela male being forced to allow the Vulture inside his house, less neighbours or his sister start accusing him of somehow abusing the creature. Thankfully he didn't actually have anything in his house that he cared for all that much, so having a frustrated, oversized bird of prey sulking about and taking it out on the furniture wasn't completely the end of the world. But of course, that clearly was not bad enough, for it seemed a disease was starting to spread among the livestock and potentially some of the members of Kroakar.

At least he'd gotten the vulture in early on, for he wasn't sure if birds could be effected, but one thing he did know for sure was that with all the dead animals, from small rodents to rabbits, the bird would have been chowing down without thought on all of the disease riddled corpses around the place.

Not that he cared, nor was the vulture his responsibility or a pet. He was only trying to save the bird from itself because everyone seemed to expect him to sort it out; it wasn't like he'd asked or forced the vulture to come to these lands with him.

With a sigh, he scooped up another of the mice corpses, flinging it onto the large fire he'd fought to get going. There was nothing else to do but dispose of them, even if it wasn't the most glamorous of jobs.

Art by Remarin

Do you think there's something wrong with me?
Do you wanna stick around to see, how bad a boy can be
Krokar
Magnate
User avatar
Kitty
Luperci Falconer, Scavenger, Lookout Krokar's First Mate

POSTED: Fri Apr 21, 2017 4:07 am

00+ I hope you don't mind Myrkr because he's going to be absolutely useless.

See galleries for credit.

Word of sickness passed through Krokar, and Myrkr fretted -- transforming into a paranoid being who squinted and sniffed at each wolf that walked by (but don't sniff too hard, you'll breathe in all that sick breath) and avoided those who showed any semblance of symptoms like -- well, the plague.

But he could not entirely abandon his duties, and while he didn't go to the paddocks with the sick sheep, he did prepare shearing tools for when the rain and the illness passed. He hunted, too, for a while -- until he realized that many of the rabbits and squirrels he ran across were exhibiting symptoms, too. Resigned to starve before he let himself end up dying of fever or vomiting or suffocation or whatever other nefarious fate he could imagine, he spent most of the time outside when it wasn't raining instead babysitting his cat, Caleb.

Who did not have the same instinct for self-preservation as Myrkr did, apparently.

No no no, don't! the thin coffee-colored wolf shouted when the tabby-and-white tom pounced after a scurrying mouse. Confused, the young cat stopped in his tracks and peered back at his owner with a plaintive meow. That one was probably sick, okay. Its... its scurrying was too erratic for my liking, it was probably delirious. He gripped his pendant hard for the comfort of its wooden edges digging into his palms, and Caleb fanned out his ears grumpily.

I'll feed you, promise, Myrkr added, though he had no idea how he'd accomplish this. Hours of observing one animal on end, probably. It was no different than how he usually hunted, though sometimes with small prey he took their health for granted and ambushed.

He grimaced, then shuddered bodily. He would never do that again.

Unallowed to hunt -- none of the other mice they crossed paths with were suitable for consumption either, in Myrkr's opinion -- Caleb grew bored and began to wander, twitching his brown tabby tail. When he spotted a fire he crept closer, remaining a safe distance, and flashed golden eyes shyly at the short, mottled dog flinging small corpses into the flames. Confounded by this, he watched for a while -- until Myrkr caught up.

What are you doing? the dark wolf asked, and smiled quizzically. His voice was high and friendly and a little amused, his approach the usual -- but a moment later he recognized the blackened bodies and immediately swept his ears back, reaching down to scoop up the cat and cradling him protectively close. Are you sick? he asked, his voice jumping higher.


Krokar
Greenhorn
User avatar
Raze
Luperci

Krokar