Word Count → +3 (+10 hunting) :: RAWR. um...she is "sneaking" out to go tracking...
They needed more food and supplies to store up for the winter. The cold weather was coming on fast, temperatures already dropping low enough to leave ice crystals covering everything in sight. If the pack members didn’t get a move on building up their supplies…there would be no supplies by the middle of the snowy season. Of course they were all working hard to avoid starvation in the future, but there was so much more to be done still. Not only did they need more food to put into storage, there were things on the Court House that needed repairs. A few windows were busted and needed to be covered, as well as a couple cracks in the walls on the top floor.
Dixie was on her way to go tracking again. The previous trip hadn’t gone so well after she’d bumped in to the male, Helotes, from Inferni, and he’d tried to seduce her on the dirt. The game trails had been found and noted, but she hadn’t gotten very far in following where they actually went. There was nothing else to do for her, since she wasn’t built for tearing buildings down or collecting huge piles of firewood. She was, however, perfectly equipped for taking down game, whether it be big or small. All of her baskets were currently being used as traps and for fishing, so the only things she had to collect before leaving her and Wayne’s room was a cloak and some rope, a few knives to strap onto her body, and another few skins for the horses.
A soft whistle was given when she got outside and within moments all of her equine friends were coming to see what she wanted. Duke walked up and draped his head over her shoulder, snorting and nudging her in a friendly manner. She grinned and gave him snuggles before draping the mountain lion skin over his back. The cat that had left the scars on his backside was dead and skinned and now being used as a warm blanket/saddle. After pulling herself up onto the stallion’s back, she gave Fern a gentle pat on the nose and nudged Duke’s sides gently, indicating that he should move. She had decided to go out without Wayne once again…lately things had felt a little awkward between them, and she didn’t want to cause strain on the relationship by making things weird.
The following line should probably be “What else is new?” but the level of his grouchiness today had grown dramatically compared to normal. Since he woke up way too early in the morning—normally an impossibility for a country boy—he’d ostracized himself from the rest of the pack. It probably wouldn’t give the leaders a good impression, but at least he wasn’t the only former loner here needing some space, and at least he did his work quietly and without complaint.
His current task was firewood and the gathering thereof. Strong winds the prior night had knocked his carefully constructed pile over, leaving him to wander the path picking up the scattered twigs and branches and planks. It had taken him the entire morning to do that as well as transport his pile closer to where the others were, and by now, his mood was downhill.
And there was probably only one person who could cheer him up—but, lately, his best friend had been awkward around him. Something in the dynamic of their relationship had changed to the worst, and Wayne wondered if it was his fault—though he couldn’t imagine what he’d done differently over the past week. Perhaps it was the stress of a pack? Outgoing Dixie-May seemed to get along with everyone, even if she needed to be reined in sometimes, but he knew that this change in lifestyle was stressing him out a bit.
Adjusting his hat, the Labrador mix sighed and wandered to their home, wondering if he could talk to her—and maybe breach the subject of what the hell was going on the past few days. Maybe. Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, he kept walking until a whistle made his ears prick. His hat shifted, and he fixed it again before listening to the sound of hoofbeats.
She was leaving without him. Again. His teeth ground against each other before he reminded himself that he’d gone out by himself just a few days past.
Undecided, Wayne stood for what seemed like minutes before finally walking up to the horses, noting Duke’s disappearance. Fern wandered over to him, ears forward and eyes intent on him. A smile finally broke his stern façade, and he rubbed her muzzle gently. She nickered at him, and he chuckled. “You’re such a sweetheart,” he murmured, oddly touched by the large mare’s interest in him. She’d proven to be very kind and gentle before, but…he kind of needed this today.
Making up his mind, he left the horse briefly to grab the tack. He smirked at the foal, which checked him out and nibbled at his jeans once, and swung himself up onto Fern’s back. Yipping for the colt to follow—though Bark didn’t need prompting—he nudged her chestnut flanks and sent her cantering on Duke’s trail.
The sound of hoofbeats and the wind in his face brightened his mood slightly. He lifted a hand to keep his hat on, smiling slightly until he saw the small stallion in front of them, Dixie perched on his back. He pulled on the reins gently, slowing Fern down though still keeping a high enough pace to catch up with his friend and her mount.
Once he was almost alongside her, however, Wayne suddenly realized that he had nothing to say, and that again she was probably alone for a reason. Awkward, he averted his eyes.
Riding had become a not so common thing these days, as so much needed to be done around the fort that didn’t require horses. Being able to get out and bond with Duke was a good thing and helped her normally overactive self to calm down a bit. Duke set them into a comfortable but quick lope, eating the distance between the living area of the pack and the place where she’d found the game trails. A few times he spooked, squealing and tossing his head or jumping to the side, but every time Dixie managed to get a good hold on him and not fall off. Riding without a saddle probably wasn’t the best idea at the moment, but it would be easier to strap a deer or something to his back if there was no tack in the way.
Duke heard the other horse before the small woman did, his ears flicking back alerting her to the follower. Glancing back, she saw Fern gaining ground fast, Wayne riding her and looking perfectly comfortable. He actually looked a lot more calm and serene than she’d seen him in at least a week. The girl smiled nervously and waved, not slowing Duke’s pace and letting the male catch up to her. Once he was at her side she tilted her head and looked at him for a few moments. His expression was closed off, if not a little bit irritated. The girl couldn’t help but think that she was doing something wrong, that maybe he was angry with her. Her fingers tugged on Duke’s mane a little and he slowed to a walk.
”I thought you were busy…sorry for not invitin’ you along.” She shrugged a little and looked away from Wayne’s face, feeling a little bit guilty for having avoided him. ”Some game trails up here I wanna check out; looks like maybe we got some hogs. Good eatin’.” A small smile pulled her lip up and bared her teeth at him a little. Her demeanor wasn’t as crazy as it usually was; in fact she was acting pretty calm and collected, a rather rare occurrence.
While Dixie-May greeted him with a wave, her smile wasn’t quite all there, and her usually sunny personality was oddly subdued. It worried him greatly and made him fear, again, that he’d done something wrong—which presented itself with some grouchiness as always, though he did his best to be kind to her. He held his tongue, concentrating instead on the movements of the mare swaying underneath him, her mane hitting his hands with each bounce.
The Samoyed mix apologized for not inviting him along, and Wayne flashed a quick smile. “No problem,” he replied, though he was lying through his teeth. He was still a little stung by her disappearance—and guilty himself, for assuming so much of her now that they were in a new home. He should be more independent, he told himself often, and be able to leave her be for more than ten minutes, but lately…
He blinked at mention of hogs, nodding quickly, his mind already working on the dilemma of how to take one of the wild boars down. He chuckled at her exposed teeth but missed the spark of life behind it. “We can bring home the bacon,” he said, the lame joke shaped by his southern drawl in an attempt to get her to lighten up a little bit more.
Realization that he was trying to get her to lighten up caused a sudden laugh to escape his chest. Wayne shot her a challenging look then smacked Fern lightly on the rump, and the mare quickened her pace. He pulled ahead for fun, even though he very well knew that she was the one who would be able to show him the trail.
Word Count → +3 :: sorry for the wait. i'm back in texas and we are having net problems. :/ i'll be here for a week. the net will be up and down. >.<
Dixie snorted lightly at Wayne’s lame joke and grinned when he spurred Fern into motion, pulling ahead of her and Duke. The stallion threw his head in excitement and jumped into action without having to be told to do so. Hoof beats pounded out in a steady rhythm as the smaller duo caught up to the other, pulling up alongside and them drawing ahead a tiny bit. Dixie threw her arm out to the side to indicate a change in direction and then pressed her left leg against Duke’s side. The horse immediately shifted his body to the side and began running to the right, leading Fern along.
After a few hundred more yards of loping, the white female uttered a soft ‘whoa’ and her horse slowed to a stop. ”The trails are up ahead a bit, I think we should leave Duke and Fern back here and get along on foot.” It would be so much easier to stalk game without the horses tagging along. They spooked easily and wouldn’t be able to get into the more forested areas where hogs and smaller animals could. Without any input from her male companion, she dropped to the ground and tied the cloak around her even tighter so it wouldn’t flap around in the cold breeze. The knives on her thighs were still easily accessible.
If Wayne shifted into Secui form, he would be bigger and stronger and more able to fight with a hog. His mixed lineage of wolf and Labrador often enabled him to be in colder weather as well, because his multi-layered fur was so thick and dense. Dixie was a mix breed of cold weather canines, and while her fur was thick and dense as well, she was too small to handle the sharp drop in temperature without something to help keep the body heat retained. Stretching, she took a deep breath and pet Duke’s nose before giving him a gentle swat on the flank, his signal to go graze. Turning away from the equine, she started walking towards the trails, excited to be doing this for the pack.
His salvo to soothe her had worked; the joke elicited a little snort from her, at least, and her grin came easily once the horses were galloping. The small stallion soon ran alongside Fern then ahead, leading the way, for which Wayne was grateful. After all, the white-furred woman had been the one to find the game trails in the first place. He was content to follow as always, barely needing to touch the reins of the horse as Fern followed Duke’s turns.
Dixie pulled her mount to a halt, and Fern stopped beside them. Wayne nodded at her suggestion even if she was already carrying it out, not feeling the need to add anything else. Hunting from horseback would be a challenge unless someone had a projectile weapon and a firm hand with the equine—as well as immensely slow or deaf prey that wouldn’t be able to escape or hear the large beast crashing through the undergrowth.
The small woman dropped down from her stallion, pulling the cloak she wore tight around herself. In contrast, the moment Wayne was on the ground, he stepped behind Fern and discarded his jeans. Normally he was fine shrugging out of his clothes around her, as they’d been together for so long and she didn’t wear anything anyway, but something bothered him about it this time. He set his trademark hat on the mare’s back and patted her neck before pulling her bridle off gently so she could graze, and then he crouched to shift.
Secui-formed, Wayne walked over to his friend’s side, brown eyes watching gently and briefly as she sent Duke off. Naturally, Fern followed him. The Labrador mix smiled then leaned heavily against Dixie’s legs like an annoying and needy pet dog—not too far from the truth, really. He trotted forward with nose to the ground once they reached the paths that the hogs had took, his ears occasionally perking up when he thought he heard something in the vegetation around them. A boar was going to be a hell of a fight, he knew, but hopefully Dixie had plans on her end and good aim with her knives.
Finding the hogs would be relatively easy once the trail was pegged down. They were huge and clumsy animals, knocking plants down and marking everything they passed. The smell that radiated from their huge bodies was strong and usually pretty gross, sticking to the leaves and bark of trees and bushes, marking their path clearly. It took about ten minutes after dismounting the horses to find the right trail and start following in the path in what seemed to be a family of hogs. Dixie reached into the cloak and slipped the large knives from their sheaths on her thighs. They were Wayne’s knives. Her own were smaller and better fitted to her size, but wouldn’t do enough damage to a pig of any kind. Larger blades were needed, and she’d been practicing with the big knives in private when her companion was working by himself.
She peeked over at him and grinned, waving the knives a tiny bit to see if he would recognize the well used, older blades and handles. Crouching down a bit, she moved forward on her knees until she could part some bushes and look through to a small clearing where snorts and grunts were coming from. There they were. Three larger pigs and a group of piglets were scampering around, nosing the dirt for roots and other things to eat. None of the larger ones looked to be boars, which was both good and disappointing. A boar would be about two hundred pounds heavier than a sow, but a lot harder to kill. Perhaps when they had another hunter or two going after a boar would be feasible.
Turning her head, she lowered her muzzle to Wayne’s head and nuzzled his ear gently. ”The smaller sow to the right, she’s got the healin’ scars on her back. Easier to take down.” The wounds on her thick flesh looked to be made from other canines, or maybe even a big cat, like the one that had attacked Duke a while back. She would be slower than the others, possibly even unable to run at all without causing a lot of pain. Dixie sucked in a deep breath and then let out a loud, snarling bark, trying to make herself sound like a vicious critter. The sows squealed and scrambled, piglets taking off with their mothers. Scars, as Dixie had taken to calling her, tried to run, but stumbled and couldn’t go very far.
”Let’s get ‘er.” The small woman jumped out and stalked closer to the sow, growling when the big hog turned and lowered her head threateningly. Hopefully Wayne would be able to incapacitate the thing so she could get in and slash the throat or legs. For the moment, Dixie was a distraction, making sure the pig’s attention wasn’t focused on her big male friend.
It didn’t take very long to find the hogs’ trail. Wayne weaved through the grass, ears pricked for the sound of grass or twigs crepitating, able to inhale the beasts’ strong scent with every breath. Head down, gait brisk, he looked more like a hound dog than anything else. Half-drooped ears lifted when he heard some grunts from ahead, and he quickly looked to Dixie-May. She’d heard the same thing and was now slipping knives out—larger ones than he was used to seeing on her. His head cocked before she waved the blades at him with a grin, and Wayne chuckled. He came wordlessly to her side as she crept forward to peek through the foliage.
Sure enough, there were a few pigs rooting around in the dirt. His eyes drifted over the smaller young and their antics before a nose brushed gently against his ear, his friend’s voice murmuring to point out a scarred sow. He followed her gaze, noting the deep cuts, before waiting for her to make or order a move.
The aggressive park scattered the hogs, though the chosen sow was impeded by her injuries and wasn’t able to catch up with the bunch. Dixie leaped from their bush and growling to get the animal’s attention.
Wayne snuck around through the bushes, his secui frame making more noise than he would have liked, though the sound of crashing undergrowth was all around them with the retreat of the other pigs. He stopped, poised, judging the distance between him and the hog, before running out from the vegetation and barreling into the scarred animal. They both tumbled with the force of the impact, and Wayne tried to keep the animal pinned down so Dixie could get a clean kill with the knife. It thrashed underneath him, squalling.
Wayne was fast and strong, knocking the sow off her feet and to the ground. Dixie was afraid her cloven hooves would gut her companion, so she immediately leapt into action. Getting as close as possible without cutting her friend, she leaned over him and slashed both knives down at the same time. Pig skin was harder than it looked. While the blades sliced into the flesh, it was hard for her to get them very deep. Growling, she tugged them out, sending a spray of blood over Wayne’s coat. The pig squealed and thrashed harder. Snarling in frustration, she dropped to her knees and reached out again, leaning all of her weight on the bigger knife and bringing it down on the sow’s throat.
There was a ‘squish’ sound as it broke through skin and muscle, blood bubbling up and pouring out over her hands and the dirty flesh. It took a few moments to work, but the sow eventually slowed her thrashing and then went still altogether. Dixie fell backwards, panting, and shook her head. Next time we better get us someone bigger…damn it. She was so frustrated about her minute size sometimes. Not being able to do certain things or be productive in some activities was extremely maddening for the girl. Huffing, she grabbed the knife and ripped it from the pig’s throat and walked away.
Once again a soft howl was given and within moments two sets of hoof beats could be heard drawing closer. Duke was smaller and made it further into the woods than Fern, pushing his way through the foliage until he could see Dixie. She grabbed the rope that was draped over his shoulders and took it back to Wayne and the pig, tossing it out over her dead body. Crouching down, she reached out and tied knots around the pig’s legs and head, then went back and looped the rope around Duke’s shoulders and withers. Alright my boy…we can do this. Just a little ways and then big ‘ol Fern can take it from there.
The sow thrashed underneath him, and the secui male snarled. She was not armed with tusks as a male hog might have been, but she was considerably huge—no elk, but definitely no rabbit, either. She also had more muscle and fight in her than he had considered, and he found himself wearing out. He considered lunging forward to savage her ears when Dixie finally came in close, and he tried to balance leaning away from the blade without also relinquishing his grip on the struggling pig.
His knife cut into the animal, and hot blood washed against his chest. Wayne curled his lip and held on until a few more blows from the knife managed to finally cut deep enough to kill the poor hog. Once the energy and life faded from her at last, he tentatively stepped off, shaking his coat and panting too as his eyes darted to his friend’s. He’d been about to make a dry remark about the far-from-clean kill when he recognized the frustration in her eyes, and so he held his tongue.
“She’s pretty damn big,” Wayne pointed out instead, grinning around his lolling tongue. “All meat.” He flopped down on his stomach, too exhausted from the struggle to be of any use while Dixie howled for the horses. She went and fastened the ropes between Duke and the hog so their catch could be drawn, and the Labrador stood, leaving behind a bloody print in the grass from his crimsoned coat. He hoped the scent wouldn’t spook gentle Fern, though he was sure that the mare was tougher than he cave her credit for.
“Let’s go, then,” the cowboy said with a triumphant smile at his friend. He padded alongside the stallion for a bit before pausing as they got to the edge of the trees, at which point his head drooped. He’d never been this tired before—which was ridiculous.
It was then that he glanced over his shoulder to see red drops along the path that he’d taken—something that he hadn’t noticed with the adrenaline and the sow’s blood all over his coat. He flopped back on the ground and rolled to his side slightly, making out a small gash on his belly from where the hooves had managed to cut him.
While the girl was a little bit concerned for her friend, she knew that they had to move the pig pretty fast. After the sow was secured to Duke’s body, she mounted his back and clicked gently, petting his neck as he pulled the large carcass out of the woods slowly. A long trail of blood was left in their wake, indicating their directing and exactly where they went. Thankfully rain wasn’t uncommon near the coast, so the girl wasn’t really afraid of anyone or anything following them from the blood. It would be thoroughly washed away in a few days, if not sooner.
Her hands rested on the stallion’s withers as he walked, eyes peeled for any predators that might have smelled the blood and come to investigate. She was already hopped up on adrenaline, so fighting something dangerous would be fin at this point. However the curse she heard from Wayne had her turning and hopping down from Duke’s back in one swift move. The horse kept walking slowly until he drew closer to the huge mare, then he stopped and dropped his head to graze more. Dixie ran over to Wayne’s side and fell to her knees, leaning over his large body
“Damn it. I knew we shoulda waited a bit longer…” She shook her head and leaned even closer, licking at the wound gently. She had nothing to patch it up with at the moment, and nothing to stitch with either. Simply cleaning it the feral way would have to do until they got back to the fort. “You need to shift so you can ride back. Walkin’ll only make it bleed more. Duke can pull the pig, you ride Fern and I’ll run, alright?” Her fingers stroked through his long dusty fur slowly, trying to bring comfort to him even though he wasn’t distressed.
Wayne was not entirely unused to pain like this. He’d had plenty of bumps and scrapes throughout his life, both related to livestock accidents and accidents from travel. He breathed calmly even as he lay on the ground, brow furrowed with frustration that he’d let himself be so damn careless with the pig. With winter rapidly approaching and few other large catches in storage, the pack couldn’t afford to have one of its members out of commission.
His frustrated brown eyes softened when he saw Dixie dismount and race over to him, kneeling and muttering before licking the wound. He pressed his muzzle gently against her shoulder as she worked, expressing his gratitude and happiness to be close to her with a soft rumble in his chest. He didn’t want her to be overly concerned with him, though she wasn’t really the type to panic at this bloody but somewhat small gash.
His friend spoke logically, urging him to shift and ride Fern. “Ya might need to keep her steady,” he warned, even as she stroked his fur. “In case the blood spooks her or—” Or if he lost consciousness, which was possible. He kept that bit to himself however, and focused his remaining energy on shifting. It took longer than usual because of the pain and his weariness, but soon he was rising carefully onto two legs and putting his hand over the cut.
Fern snorted at his bloody scent when he approached, shifting her weight nervously as old prey animal instincts kicked in, but she was characteristically calm once he had pulled himself onto her large back. He rubbed her neck, trying to use the familiar affection to keep her calm, and sighed as he allowed himself to slouch. He was grateful for not having to walk back, and he hoped that Dixie wouldn’t be too worn out from her part in the hunt—though they didn’t really have a deadline to return to the rest of the group.
“I reckon this might make for a good conversation starter,” Wayne joked, glancing at his bloodied fingers pressed to the wound. The bleeding had slowed now that he wasn’t wiggling around, and most of the excess had been licked off. “Though I suppose all respect will go out the window when I tell ’em a pig did this to me.” He grinned at her wearily.
