desperate measures

Alaki · 09-05-2011, 03:01 PM

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WC:800+ - Whenever works for you (Date wise ^^). Annd, man!! how did this turn into an essay o.o Sorry; don't worry about matching length, i don't normally write that much >.< And yah, Alaki's a lucky idiot; throw a knief and kill a goat.... don't ask ¬.¬ I'd say he's pretty near her now?

As of late, he hadn't been what one would call a 'social butterfly', for he had chosen to keep his head down and away from everyone and anyone... aside from his mate and his 'family'. All his time was dedicated to the simple act of refining his combat skills; he was young, brash and often foolish and so isolating himself in such a way and dedicating time to sharpening his skills was a productive way of making sure his foolish actions didn't get him kill, for a wolf of his mannerisms always attracted trouble. Slowly he brought the slime coated rag down the length of his blade, treating the metal and leaving it clean, his mind drifting away into deep thoughts of recent events, changes and other matters that simply floated around his mind, begging to be pondered about. Beyaz stirred from his slumber, the white bird was rested in some branches above the tree the dark male rested against. “Pfft, hard life as a bird...” he muttered, his eyes looking upon his companion who was so completely at ease outside of his home territory. Although not far, it was a fact that he was outside of Anathema, but still upon the mountain range of which he was familiar, take your small comforts where you can... taking in a deep breath, he made a low 'whistle' like sound to call the bird from it's slumber and proceeded on his travels.

It had been a long time since he'd ventured outside of his home borders, the last had ended in a dramatic and bloody fashion, but then, he'd been more out of his mind than his usually was. Keeping his head up, with a level look upon his face, he steadily made his way forward with no real destination in mind, just aimlessly wandering and taking in once more the repetitive sights of the mountain range. The thing with mountains; they were downright boring. Lotsa rocks and trees... and then more rocks and trees... if one was lucky they may encounter the occasional pool of water, a stream or some romantic like setting along those lines, but the true treasures of the mountain lay underground in the Marbas's opinion.

The muscles in his legs tensed and flexed as he hoped from one rock to another, reaching a higher vantage point. As he jumped about his assortment of weapons jangled and bumped against him from their holds, his katana knocked the back of his knee and almost threw him off balance. Sliding a few fingers around the leather attachment he shifted it so that it wouldn't effect his balance again. The cold wind wrapped itself around his tall form, familiar and biting to his upper torso; over time he'd learned the benefits of clothes, but he could only stand to wear jeans, or anything more felt restraining and uncomfortable to him. Nothing of interest caught his attention, aside from an odd scent. Pausing, he lifted his head an tested the air, unsure whether to go through the effort of tracking the source or if he should continue on his way. A small part of his mind was ever curious and before he'd thought things through, he was tracking the stranger."Way too much time to kill... should find something productive to do..." he muttered under his breath.

Beyaz flew above him, low in the air so that he stayed below the tree branches and within his owner's sight, catching the bird's attention he signalled for it to land on his shoulder and so the white pest reluctantly obeyed and landed with little grace. Other scents, the scents of the species that prowled the mountain accompanied the stranger's and his mind did the maths; whomever it was was most likely hunting. Pulling out a short dagger, he secured his hold upon it's leather handle, tilting the blade forward ready to strike anything that came his way.

Pounding of hooves on stone reaches his ears before the scattering animals came into view, quickly he switched his hold on the blade and kept his eyes focused; there were only a few, probably those whom had fled from the main heard. Without bothering to aim, he threw the blade at the approaching animals as if it were some game. He heard the blade connect with something and then simply stared ahead at the downed goat with a blade in it's throat. Grinning like a fool, he ran up to the goat like some pup on it's birthday. Pinning the dying creature beneath himself, he twisted the knife and finish the goat off. "Do i or do i have the devil's luck!" he asked the bird, not expecting the pest to answer. Staring down at it's corpse he considered what to do with it; he wasn't particularly hungry, nor could he be bothered to carry it back to pack storage. Heck, he hadn't actually expected to his anything with such a half-heartedly throw and so he found himself in a situation; what to do with a dead goat.

Image courtesy of crowolf@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

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