desperate measures
#1
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Muscles tensed as she perched on the edge of the overhang, tawny fur teased by bouts of cool summer wind. Here on the mountain, the air was more brittle and cold, but she had long learned to ignore the feeling. She came from a short distance north of ’Souls, in fact—not to the point where everything was polar ice caps or tundra, but where she was used to the weather anyway. Besides, loners didn’t complain. She had chosen her life, had suffered through colder weathers, and had come out unharmed—at least by the weather.

Blue eyes were feral and large ears twitched as she skulked around the side of the ledge, her mind set on the small cluster of mountain goats milling below. She trotted stealthily down a slope, hidden in the shadow of the mountain, too tiny a shape to be concerned with. Luck was on her side, and with her coat more or less blending in with the paler parts of the rock and dead shrubbery, she managed to come close to the herd.

As expected, they sensed her and scattered, but Vesper leaped and grabbed the leg of the nearest animal. It was a young one, but that didn’t blunt the stabbing of its sharp dewclaw as its other leg went back to hit her. As the area below her chin was struck, the coywolf released her catch, but the kick had compromised the kid’s balance. It fell, but another goat caught it with its body, and soon the loner found herself facing a row of horns and hard black eyes.

Vesper scowled. There was nothing that she could do; she was small, and these animals were in their element. But it had been a long while since she’d eaten—she was desperate.

With a snarl, the tawny female rushed at them again, skidding short and watching them break apart—some running, some reforming. She drove at them again and again, growling, waiting for one to slip up—while completely aware the first one to trip could be her.




This is a really terrible starting post; I'm sorry if it doesn't give you much to go off of. xD Basically she's being crazy and running around some mountain goats? Also, would you mind if I back-dated it a couple of days? :3 Whichever would work better for you. I'm planning on having two other threads set on the same day in the same place, so this would make more sense for the date to be moved.


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#2
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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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#3
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Vesper was not having any luck.

She snarled and charged again, but the kids were protected by the close cluster of adults. A couple of the males even charged back at her, short dark horns scything through the air, but the coywolf kept easily out of their range. The problem was that this was a total stand-off; she was better at chasing and bringing animals down with speed, but against a metaphorical brick wall like this, she was useless.

She paused for a moment and huffed, eyeing the mountain goats resentfully. As surefooted as she liked to think herself as, one wrong pounce could send her skidding down the cliff—and she didn’t have a mother goat to catch her.

The scent of blood was suddenly sharp in the air, and the loner froze. Her chosen targets caught wind of the scent and shuffled anxiously, but none broke from the tightly-packed circle. She had to admire their resilience if nothing else—but right now, her attention was on the blood permeating the thin mountain air.

A more skittish canine would have avoided the smell—because blood, even that of a goat, often meant that some other predator was in the area. However, she knew that this could be her only chance for a meal today, and if it was another scruffy loner, she’d have no trouble fighting them off. She trotted quickly in that direction.

And then she came upon the kill. Light blue eyes widened, quickly passing by the crimson-throated goat to the creature crouched over the body. While she had seen luperci before, rarely had she been so close to one—and anxiety was creeping in, an anxiety common with approaching something new and unknown.

The luperci was a male—that much was obvious from scent more than the lack of certain defining features—and clad with jeans. She looked at the pants only briefly before becoming more interested in the blades he possessed. They looked unnaturally sharp, and the knife matched the wound in the throat of the animal.

Vesper padded into view and stood uncertainly, her ears slightly angled back and her tail low. All thoughts of fighting a scraggly coyote for a meal had vanished from her mind as she faced the man.




Poke me if this isn't enough to reply to, since she didn't say anything. And maybe he has a goat-sensing knife. Big Grin *lame*


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#4
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WC: 431
Sorry for taking forever, bogged down with work and internet issues >.<


Blue eyes glared down at the very dead and rather bloody corpse before him; he couldn't help but simply and clueless stare at it, in a state of shock and lost for words. The blood from it's throat had begun to seep into the dirt beneath it, the wind not that strong but no doubt carrying the scent of death to those nearby. Irritation surged through him and he ran a hand idly through his scruffy hair; the mess had been hastily pulled back into a ponytail that morning so that it would be out of his way. Never before had he managed such a fluke-like kill and the fact that the knife had connected and seriously wounded the goat disturbed him as much as he took pride in the kill. With a grunt, he brought himself up into a standing position, dusting his hands across his jeans, blue eyes remaining cast down onto the dead creature. Out of habit, he slid his thumbs into his jeans front pockets, his arms bent and relaxed as he found himself now frowning, still deep in a mental debate whether to leave the kill or drag it back to the howling caverns.


It was a stupid and utterly pointless debate, but he was too lazy to carry the creature but his love and loyalty to his pack told him that he should donate the kill to the pack stores. Decisions, decisions... a heavy sigh escaped his lips and he began to turn away from the goats slowly cooling corpse, having decide to catch a smaller critter on his way back home. A soft breeze caressed his retreating form and he slowly turned his head, blue eyes scanning the immediate area around him. It was then he noted that he was no longer alone.


Scrunching up his nose, his tail failing deadly still, he tested the scent once more, surprised to find that his company was not a luperci. Once, a seemingly distant time ago, his father had mentioned such creatures, but he had never came face to face with one. Curious thing, isn't she? The though filled his mind as he contemplated reasonable reasons as to why one would choose not to be a luperci, but he found none. To him, it seemed foolish to restrain oneself to a single form when having multiple came in handy.


“You're abit on the small side, ain't ya?” he spoke the thought allowed, the sentence coming out more of a question than a statement, his eyes flashing down to the corpse and back to the small coyote.


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#5
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It's perfectly fine! I was really busy at that time anyway. xD Sorry for the shortness...

The smoky grey male sniffed in her direction, and she wondered what exactly she was gathering from her scent. He smelled strong and of a pack, which twisted the odds even more against her, though she knew she should be fine as long as she didn’t try anything foolish. She hadn’t smelled any border markings in this part of the mountains, anyway.

Vesper stood still, allowing him to speak first. When he did, however, a smirk danced across her lips. The tenseness that had pervaded her small body began to fade, now that the silence had broken with conversation. As aloof as she acted, she liked talking to others from time to time.

“I prefer the term compact,” the coywolf said, flashing her teeth in his direction playfully. “You’re quite tall, but it’s probably just a matter of your form.” She gave her tail a quick flick, almost like wag, to show that she wasn’t offended and didn’t mean to offend him. She hated canines who read too much into every little remark.

She fell silent then, and while the silence was comfortable now, she could feel an aching in her stomach. Her nostrils flared as she took in the scent of the dead goat, and she did her best not to look like she was straining forward it. “Is that for your pack?” She went onwards, not quite giving him enough time to answer, as her eyes darted to the knife. “Did you kill it with that thing?” The concept was strange—using something other than your own teeth to kill. Ingenuity was one thing; she understood using the environment, but not the glittering silver thing he’d had in his paw.

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

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#6
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WC:397+ - Could finish this up with her
taking the goat and Key leaving? Trying to cut back on my amount of threads @_@

An single eyebrow rose slightly at the girl's smirk, a confident expression considering the difference in size and her lack of weapons, in return a smile crept it's way into his expression; foolish bravery was something he respected greatly, having done, or well, attempted many stupid feats and acted confident regardless of a situation or whom he was in the presence of many a time himself. With the others surprisingly witty comeback his smile deepened, the grey coated male liked canines like her, those who would willingly banter with him and weren't intimidated by him. “Ha, compact, huh? That's definitely one way of putting it” he shook his head slightly, black hair spraying out behind him and waving with the movement. “And I can ensure you, i'm quite tall regardless of my form, among many things...” he smiled smugly down upon her, shifting his posture so he stood just that little bit taller. Shows of pointless male bravado and pride were like a game to him; he'd keep doing them till someone caught him out, like Jace managed to do more often than not... but then, that's why she was one of his few friends.


When the girl spoke again, his attention was drawn back to the dead goat. The corpse still posed as a problem to the lazy male and he hadn't yet decided what exactly he was going to do with it. “That is a good question” the response was more a thought allowed than anything else, but before he could ponder further what to do with the dead goat the hybrid posed him another question, “This?” he held the knife up, grip relaxed around the blade, “Yeah, threw it at the lot of them. I'd love to say it was a skill shot but it was a total fluke” a grin fell upon his lips, a spark of pride at his lucky kill still remained. Pausing once again, he looked at the girl and an idea formed within his mind. “Ya know what, it's too much of a hassle to carry this back. I'll catch something closer to my pack to put into storage, you can have it if you want. Heck, you look like you need it more than me” his words were teasing, but he stepped away from the corpse so that the woman knew he was being serious despite the teasing.

Image courtesy of all-i-oli@Flickr; Table by the Mentors!

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