[M] bloody horse
#1
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WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.
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The Redblade had drifted in from New Brunswick having had just finished a set of armour that would have rivalled those of the medieval ages. The luperci that had requested it had been a mercenary with a hobby of collecting old weaponry and armour, using it on his victims or to collect dust amongst his collection. It had been made out of iron plate, which the customer himself had collected, fit to the form of a luperci's body, so light weight that movement was not unbearably impeded and inlaid with a filigree design. Kargek had spent months on it and all for what was between his legs at that moment.

The gelding was a beautiful creature, a draft horse with a dappled grey coat and pristine white mane and feathered legs, all the equine was missing was its tail which Kargek made up for with his long plume. The luperci himself was intimidating to look upon, standing above seven feet tall with a largely muscular body, covered in brown and dark cream fur save for his head, which was pitch black. Various tools bounced around his toned waist as the gelding trotted across the plains of Drifter Bay ears back complacently for his masters commands as the Redblade rode bareback upon his steed, a rusted blade strapped across his back. Suddenly the dappled equine came up short, ears twitching towards something hiding amongst the brush. Kargek looked in the direction with his brown and hazel eyes, only to be met by the sight of three bandits. "That stupid creature gave us away," the tallest of them remarked, clearly amused. The other two; a short, plump luperci with a scowl in place and a younger, skinnier lad with shifty eyes didn't seem to share their leaders amusement.

Kargek, not one to run from anyone or anything, used his knees to guide his gelding about to face the small group. "Wha'dya want?" He grumbled, none to impressed by the interruption. "Ah, y'know," said the obvious leader of the group. "Just curious as to where you're off to, we saw them blacksmith tools," Kargek lay a hand on them mindfully, an ear flicking back to rid it of a fly. It was turning into an increasingly hot day. "Halifax," he replied tursly, putting pressure into the gelding's side to turn him so they could be on their way. "To bad you won't make it that far," Kargek turned his head with bared teeth when everything went black. The young, thin boy of the group had thrown a large rock at the Redblade's head.

After a time the man began to sway in and out of consciousness, catching tidbits of what the bandits were saying. "That bloody fucking horse took a chunk right out of me," one of them said in a deep, gravely voice, most likely the plump one. "Leave th' beast then, we'll just take his belongings." Kargek groaned and started to push himself up and with a shrill "shit!" he was out cold again.


The bandits were long gone now, the Redblade unconscious amongst the dry grasses and wildflowers, his steed agitated and pawing at the ground dangerously close to the mans head. He was weak as a kitten, something he hadn't been since he was a mewling pup at his mothers teat. If he had been awake then he would have been a raging storm, a fury on his steed chasing after the bandits whom had robbed him of all of his possessions save for a loincloth around his waist, they had even taken his fathers rusted blade, so dull it was worthless save for sentimental value. The day carried on as if nothing had happened though, the birds chirping their songs and the sun rising and then falling into early evening.

Those bandits would not live long.


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#2
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Word Count → 469 :: tell me if I should change anything

The young hybrid saw the horse before she saw its fallen rider. She might have thought it was one from Salsola's or Inferni's wild herds, if it wasn't for the tack it was wearing. It was also far larger than she remembered any of the horses being. Ataxia gave a small, pup-like noise that conveyed curiosity. Who would be so stupid to leave their horse alone, so close to Salsola's borders?

The girl urged her own horse - a silver dappled black stallion - forward to get a better look. Her ears stood straight, alert for signs of a trap. Her sense of smell told her something was wrong before sight did, as tall wildflowers concealed the ground. Her horse flared his nostrils, and stopped ten feet from the gelding. Both horse and rider detected the odor of dried blood. "Hello?" She called out, and gave another glance around the area. It would be just her luck that someone attacked her the first time she traveled outside of Salsola since the Boreas war.

Cautiously, she slid down from her horse. Her hands passed over the dagger sheathed at her side, but she did not pull it out for fear of frightening the gelding. He was obviously agitated, and the gleam of metal in her hand might cause him to become skittish. The situation was odd enough that she considered calling for others of the Kingdom to help - they were close enough, they might hear her - but that was also out of the question due to the unknown temperament of the horse. "Hey," The dark hybrid said as she approached, talking in a calm, even manner. "What are you doing out here?"

Ataxia felt something furry beneath her foot, and glanced down before she accidentally stepped on the tail of a wounded man. This was more interesting than the horse, if only because it explained why the gelding was without a rider. She knelt down beside the tall hybrid and prodded him. "Are you alive?" She wasn't a medic, so it didn't occur to her to check his pulse. The girl only realized that he was, indeed, alive after staring at him and noticing that his chest rose and fell with each breath.

"Hmm..." Therein lied an opportunity. He was a strong man, but he was wounded and alone. Salsola would have use for someone like him, assuming she could drag him back somehow and keep him alive. Perhaps it would even help her get promoted. The dark hybrid's face spread into a smile. "There are healers in my pack. Stay still." She said, in case he was listening. It wouldn't do any good to announce her intentions and have him resist. Even as weakened as he was, it would make the task more difficult.

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#3
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Nope! Would you be able to ask one or two people in Salsola to join to help her cart him home? Tongue Also sorry for the short post, hard to write with an unconscious character. >_>

The gelding thrust his ears forward as the girl approached, prancing his hind-legs nervously as he arched his neck, daring her with steely eyes to come nearer. When she called out the dappled dray flattened his ears and snorted, stomping down with a hoof agitatedly.

As the young luperci began approaching on foot the battle-trained horse trotted about in a circle, keeping his distance as she neared his master. Kargek himself was still out cold, blood crusted along his temple and drying in the grass. He had been hit hard twice and would not be waking any time soon. The Redblade moaned and rolled onto his side when he was prodded, oblivious to her words. If he had been awake he would have been in a rage, knocking the girl flat and mounting his gelding to ride after the bandits, but sadly a concussion was all that was in the works. As she spoke again he rolled onto his back again, flattening the blades of grass further in a giants sized imprint. The gelding had calmed during this time and had started walking slowly toward the pair, ears flicking toward the girl in interest each time she spoke.


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#4
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Word Count → 266 :: yep.

Ataxia seemed to ignore the approaching horse for a moment, eying the man and his wound. She thought his movement was a good sign, but again, she was not a healer and knew nothing about concussions. She had a compulsion to touch his temple to see if elicited any further response, but something told her not to. The extent of her knowledge told her she should probably clean the wound, but she had nothing with her. The blood was dry in any case, so he was not at the risk of bleeding to death.

She glanced up at the horse. He seemed less agitated, more curious perhaps. "I'm going to get your friend here some help." The young hybrid explained, in the same calm voice she used to address him earlier. "I'm going to make a loud noise to call for the rest of my pack. Don't be frightened." she had no idea if he understood. Some horses did understand a bit of speech, or so she thought, but she couldn't tell if this was one of them. The horse could be as valuable as the would-be slave, so it was worth the chance of looking like a fool if anyone overheard her.

Still, she could not carry this man alone and she did not think it was wise to leave him out here. She would have to take the risk of starling the gelding if he didn't understand her words. The silver-haired child stood up and backed away from the man. She turned her body towards Salsola's borders, then threw her head back and howled.

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#5
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(350)



Draugr is by me!

Draugr hunted in her two-legged form today. It was easier to hunt fish in this form, and the weir made it even easier. Her meal was a large one, several fish cooked over a fire by the slave named Gjalda. Her mother had stolen his real name and all its power, and Gjalda was the only name he had left. The drab-furred hybrid found it easier to direct these creatures, now that she fully understood their position in society.

They were not Luperci, but something else entirely -- some second class of canine unworthy of the full rights and responsibilities of a regular canine. She saw why, of course -- Khirot had chosen his lifestyle, Darijus could do more than subsist anymore, and this Gjalda canine was weak and meager. She would not even allow him to hunt for her; the woody-furred Associate thought it demeaning to allow such a creature to do the hunting. Cooking work was fit for one such as him, but hunting? No, Draugr would procure her own meals.

The dark-furred hybrid pricked her ears up at the call, recognizing the lilting voice as her friend Ataxia. Glancing toward Gjalda, who was in the process of covering the fire with dirt to kill it, the hybrid stood up, sending the fishbones into the river with a flick of her foot. Come with me, she ordered, voice calm and command smoothy delivered. The slave, too, stood up from his hunkered position and tagged along after her, soon trotting to keep up with the wolfdog's quick pace. She came across Ataxia some distance outside of the borders, standing over a big wolf. Draugr's pale purple eyes appraised the situation, and she narrowed her eyes, looking from the pretty horse to the unconscious wolf to Ataxia herself.

What happened? she asked, voice quiet so she might not disturb the injured stranger. The scent of blood was on the air, but he appeared alive enough -- moaning and moving here and there, and clearly still breathing -- and the situation did not appear dire. And who is that?

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#6
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Word Count → 297 :: Out of Character text

Ataxia waited patiently. Her own horse gave a glance at her after she howled. His ears flicked this way and that, and tried ascertain whether something was wrong. His owner's body language was one of patient confidence, so the stallion came to the conclusion that nothing was out of the ordinary. He returned to his grazing. The girl noticed this, and wondered if she might be able to tie the two horses together before she led them back to Salsola. It would make things easier for her.

She smiled when she recognized the wolfdog approaching. Her tail began to wag, pleased. She hadn't talked to Draugr much since her father had died and seeing her now was a welcome sight. "I've no idea. I found him like this, and the horse too. Seems someone struck him on the head and left him near our borders." That was her best guess, anyway. It was possible that the horse had reared and knocked him off. "One could say it was fate. I think we should help him - I'm sure he'd be useful to us in return." The hybrid moved her eyes from Gjalda to the injured man, silently implying that the latter would make a good slave. Ataxia did not voice her intentions out loud, for fear that the man might wake up and hear them.

"Our leaders might find him useful as well... and I'm sure they'd look on you kindly for helping to bring him back." The silver-haired hybrid said, in reference to Draugr's unfortunate rank as an associate. Ataxia should have spent more time with her after she been demoted, but she'd been too concerned with her father's death to care. As it was now, Draugr might think that implication was more rude than helpful.

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#7
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The dray continued to watch the girl anxiously, ears turning back as she spoke now. Why was his master not up yet? With a snort the dappled gelding pawed at the air, not wanting to truly hear what this girl-wolf had to say, so when she did howl it gave the draft horse a fright and sent him galloping about the clearing, the horse not wanting to leave its master. It was when the other two wolves appeared though that he broke off toward the tree-line, unknowingly headed toward Salsola territory.

Obliviously to the growing crowd and to the fact he had been abandoned Kargek moaned, grasping for things that were no longer there; his possessions. He was beginning to wake but his mind was so clouded he could barely focus as one brown eye opened, the hazel following suit. "...bring him back." "Wha-" he tried to ask as he caught the tail end of the conversation, the scene around him swirling before his very eyes. Lurching up without regard Kargek tried to clutch tightly onto the nearest leg, his muscled arm tensing harshly as he tried to use the motion to pull himself up in his drunk state. He could not keep it up for long though and dropped back down suddenly, releasing his tensed muscles and rolling back into unconsciousness.


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#8
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(470)



Draugr is by Alaine!

The wolfdog appraised the large figure on the ground with a frown, and wrinkled her muzzle into something resembling a mild snarl as Ataxia spoke of attackers. Dra was quite used to large canines -- her mother was a big wolf, after all, and so was her father; Dra herself was no petite thing -- but this one seemed very big. Perhaps it was just the way he was all sprawled out. Her purple gaze settled on Ataxia -- respectfully never lifting to her face, of course -- and she listened, nodding here and again to show she understood.

When Ata was finished explaining, the hybrid gazed toward her for a moment, frowning. She was ranked as an Associate, surely, but would helping someone of only Family rank advance her cause any? Did Salvia and Sirius care for Eris's children, little more than Family and Confidants themselves? They seemed to overlook Draugr entirely, which was quite good for the wolf-dog. She preferred not to be noticed -- any extra spotlight cast on her might bring to light mistakes she wasn't even aware of making.

I don't know, she said, hesitating. She understood the implication, but her mind again considered the big male and how damned big he was. He's... very large, the hybrid said. He looks very strong. Maybe it would be best if we left him here to fend for himself. I'm sure one as strong as he is can handle it. Draugr dwelled on the male's size, and repeated it twice to Ataxia, the underlying message being: enslaving him might be more trouble than it is worth, and it might cost blood.

How will we even get him back by ourselves? Gjalda is not very strong, either, she said. The slave was standing quietly off to the side, and he jerked a little at the mention of his name, but hesitated before stepping forward and lifting one finger. Draugr stared toward him, frowning, and nodded, giving him leave to speak.

You might build a travois. Two long sticks and a pelt secured between them, strapped to the horse's back. I know how to do it, he offered. Draugr considered this a moment, and finally shrugged, glancing back toward Ataxia. She was the highest of rank present; it was her decision. Before the gray wolf could reply, however, there was a stirring from beside them, and Draugr was alarmed to see the male beginning to stir. She took a step back and stared as he struggled upwards, choked half a word, and fell back again.

Whatever we do, let's do it before he wakes up, the wolf-dog said. She wasn't afraid of him -- with Ataxia and Gjalda here, and the pack so close, he couldn't hurt them.

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#9
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Word Count → 469 ::

Ataxia noticed the way the wolfdog did not meet her eyes. It fed her ego, yes, but there was something disconcerting about having a childhood friend below oneself. The hybrid had always considered herself more dominant and wanted to be seen that way, but a passing thought crossed her mind and asked if she would ever be forced into the position Draugr was in. Surely not; she'd never heard of anyone being forced to take an Associate's place when they have previously been considered Family.

She listened to her concerns, glancing at the male when her gaze lingered on him. Her friend had a point, she had to admit. He was large and subduing him would be difficult, provided they could get him into Salsola in the first place. If he caused more trouble than help, it would be her fault. Ataxia had to consider this, though it occurred to her that there were others in the Thistle Kingdom that might be able to help with that matter - whether they would want to was another question. The young hybrid remained silent, torn between the two options.

She turned her head and listened to the slave when he was given permission to speak. Normally she would not have accepted advice on these matters - at least not from a slave - but she was struck by how useful his suggestion was. It would solve their problem handily; the dragging him there, at least. She tilted her head, glancing from the slave, to the injured man and her horse. The gelding seemed to have disappeared while she wasn't paying attention. It disappointed her. She wanted something to show for her efforts.

Just then, the injured man startled her by trying to get up. Ataxia took a step backward as Draugr did. "Don't move, you'll hurt yourself..." she started to say, but he fell unconscious before she could finish. The hybrid frowned and gave a glance to her friend, agreeing. "Yes." She looked down at the man, something like greed in her eyes. Even if could not be made into a slave, he might be made into a sacrifice and that might convince her god to turn things in her favor. Things were changing in Salsola, and she didn't like it. Now that her mother had been dethroned, she was afraid she'd never rise or worse - fall herself. If he could be made into a communal slave, this would show she was still loyal despite the change in leadership.

"Let's move him. Do you have a spare pelt, big enough to carry him with?" She said to Draugr, since she knew her friend had taken up her mother's leather-working. To the slave, she said, "And you can help me find appropriately sized sticks." She didn't trust him on his own while they were outside of Salsola.

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#10
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(580)



Draugr is by Alaine!

Earlier in life, Draugr hadn't realized the separation of slave and Luperci. She had therefore talked to them more openly than some of Salsola might have liked. While she fully comprehended their position and agreed with it, the shadow-furred wolfdog did not entirely discount their minds. Sometimes, a slave's mind was just as useful as his might: as Draugr could not read and write herself, she had occasionally tasked Darijus with this task, even before capable of shifting. The few papers she had were stacked neatly in her home, a prized possession listing some knowledge the wolfdog considered essential -- descriptions and uses of plants copied from Odessa's lovely book, and other sorts of passages copied from other books. Someday, she hoped to read these lists herself.

Draugr nodded in response to the woman's question, though her purple eyes lingered on the man. Don't leave him too long alone, she said. He might get up and wander away, and we'll have done all this for nothing. Though she was grinning and her tone was light enough, the hybrid meant it seriously. They couldn't go around helping injured travelers for nothing, and Dra did want something for her efforts. The war spoils had given her over to expecting rewards when she acted above and beyond her duty.

I'll take your horse? the hybrid asked, stating it but speaking in tones of a question. When Ataxia nodded, Dra was quick to mount up. The horse was another of the Boreas conflict and well-trained -- the animal did not balk at this new presence, and he broke into a smooth trot as Draugr pressed her heels into his sides. She headed for the Ruins, and was not long in returning. When she did, she saw the frame of the travois was constructed; Ata and the slave stood off to the side, awaiting her return. Dra pulled gently on the reins and the horse came to a stop before them.

Dra hopped down; clutched in one arm was a tight bundle. The leather was one of the softer pelts she'd cured -- while not so adept at this task as her mother, Draugr knew the basics of such things. She'd also brought rope and leather bindings to hold the sheet to the sticks. Nodding her approval at its construction, she and Gjalda bent and scurried over the wooden frame, tying a strap here and a rope there. When they were finished, Dra moved to Ataxia's horse and directed it to step into place over the travois. Gjalda went to the equine's far side, and together they strapped it into place. Gjalda tugged on it firmly, and the horse snorted.

Alright, Dra said, motioning toward the man. Gjalda, she directed. You are smallest and weakest. You will hold his head and not let it droop around. Keep it steady, she said. Draugr was no accomplished healer, but she knew enough not to allow the man to strain his neck or scramble his brains by bouncing his head around. He will be heavy, she said to Ataxia. Take his wrists, and I'll take his ankles. He won't be able to kick or strike us if he wakes up, but we may drop him, she warned.

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#11
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Word Count → 352 :: I hit my head against a door and now my vision is all funny. I BLAME THE DOOR IF I MAKE A GLARING ERROR

Working with a slave was not an experience she was used to. Her mother's slave had done things for her, sure, but she'd never had to do things with a slave - well. There was the time she had dragged the Boss's slave into planting Thistle with her, but even that was an attempt to make her uncomfortable by forcing her to touch the thorny stems. Cooperation was different. Ataxia did not like working on the slave level as a slave, much less taking orders from one - which she would have to do since she didn't know how to make a travois.

Thus, when the sticks had been gathered, she left the job to Gjalda to actually build the frame and helped only when it seemed something was beyond his strength. She could use the excuse of having to watch the injured man as an explanation, but slaves didn't need an excuse for inaction like Family did. It was their place to serve.

She was relieved when Draugr returned, though her eyes still remained on the wounded hybrid. While the pair attached the pelt to the frame, she stood over him and murmured reassurances to him in case he should wake up; talk of how a healer would be there soon, how he'd be safe inside packlands - it was easier when she thought of him as like a skittish horse, rather than a luperci. Although the girl lacked empathy for others of her species, she was capable of bonding with animals, as they were not a threat to her rank like another canine was.

Ataxia nodded when Draugr explained how they were going to pick him up. "Don't move," she said to him, "We're taking you to some place safe." She said as if that would help, before grasping him by the wrists and pulling him up at the same time as the others did. The hybrid grimaced as her arms strained to hold him up. "Oh Momoztli, he is heavy." She mumbled, and hoped they would be able to drag him to the travois before her arms fell off.

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#12
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Ouch! Be careful. >_>

A different scene began to unfurl around the man, the clang of metal against metal--in reality the sound of wood being struck and bound together--ringing in his tall, sensitive ears. He was in his adoptive fathers workshop as a young lad, small hands clutching at the side of the work table and chin resting on the its smooth surface. He was watching his da' fast at work, pounding away at the pliable metal while it was still fresh from the fires then thrusting it into water, sizzling as it cooled into shape.

The now grown boy by the forge worked his own piece of metal, forming it into a thin, curved blade. "An arakh," his foster father informed, "used by Indians in war around 900 years after the death of Christ." The still growing teen continued to work the metal until it was fit to cool in the water. "Arakh," the young man repeated, wiping sweat from his brow.

Kargek moaned as he was jostled by the trio, head held firmly in place by strong hands and arms being pulled by his own weight, a pain igniting in his joints that almost jolted him into wakefulness, but just almost. He was still too far gone to understand what was going on around him, his vision blurred and thoughts senseless. "Arakh," he murmured in his half-awake state as he was slid toward the travois. "Horse," he commanded sleepily. Where was his horse? Was it dragging him? The thought that his steed was there lulled him back into a complacent sleep.

"Yes boy, Arakh. Now let's see if you can use it."


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#13
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(338)



Draugr is by me!

Her pale eyes lingered on her companion, wondering if they would be strong enough to lift him up. Surely, Mama Siv would be able to pick him up by herself -- she could cradle him as she'd cradled baby Draugr. The wolfdog knew this must be true, but she was not her mother and she did not have her mother's size or strength. So she lifted with Ataxia, picking up the big wolf by the ankles and hoping his big claws did not come flying toward her face.

Draugr trembled with the effort of dragging the wolf, and soon his rear dragged against the ground. His head, the more important part, was clutched safely between Gjalda's hands, at least -- the slave was doing his part in keeping the stranger's skull from getting any more hard taps. The stranger muttered a word Dra did not fully hear through the noise of their efforts, but otherwise did not seem to stir, even with their motion. Huffing and grunting, Draugr shuffled toward the travois and positioned her end of the stranger over it, nodding to Ataxia as she let him down gently. The Associate did not want to let him drop, though she thought her arms might let go despite her wishes.

With the big stranger in the travois, the hybrid breathed again, a long sighing exhale, and looked at Ataxia with a grin. Let's get him back, she said, and moved aside for the silver-shaded woman to lead her own horse. She began walking back toward the pack immediately, shaking and stretching her arms out. Gjalda trailed after her, still considering himself in her service. The slave had a muted, dead sort of expression -- perhaps he guessed Ataxia's intent with the big wolf? Dra simply hoped she wouldn't be considered an accomplice if it turned out the stranger was no sort of fit canine for slavery. She couldn't very well have refused one of higher rank asking for her help, after all.

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