[AW] Bring your own beer
Fundy National Park
#1
I haven't written for an "anthro" character in yeeears and it will probably show...

If there's anything unrealistic about this post, feel free to call me out on it. :P


After spending a few days exploring the Northern Tides region, Riot felt comfortable enough to shift into her Optime form. As soon as she finished transforming, she stretched her arms and legs, testing and enjoying the feel of her lean muscles. It was strange but liberating. She wobbled slightly when she stood, laughing at herself. "You tard," she teased, wiggling her fingers in front of her two-toned eyes. Looking around with shifty eyes -- though the modesty was a playful farce -- Riot put a hand on her chest and even gave herself a friendly squeeze. These were one of the odder things about this form.

Although she didn't necessarily feel naked when walking around on two legs rather than four, she nevertheless made a beeline for the old, abandoned camps within the defunct national park. She found what appeared to be an overgrown rubbish heap. Sifting through inches of dirt and debris -- and cutting her hand on a rusty soup can in the process -- she found a pair of tennis shoes. Like the one she'd found the other day, they pretty much crumbled in her hands. Don't need shoes anyhow, she thought, throwing the tatters over her shoulder as she continued foraging. It wasn't like her feet would fit into them; even when bipedal, she still walked on her toes.

Her hand felt something buried in the heap. It was stiff but gave a little when she pressed against it. Wrapping both hands around it, she tugged and eventually yanked free an ancient, torn and mud-caked pair of jeans. They were stiff with grime, so she stood and beat them against her leg, coaxing some softness into the old denim. The label said "Levi's," which meant little to her. Riot held them against her waist, peering down to see that there were tears in the knees. Shrugging, she lifted a leg and stepped into them. They felt weird. They fit, though loosely, and she would need to find something to use as a belt.

Removing them quickly, Riot folded them over one lithe arm and used a white toe to kick at the pile of debris, stirring the trash. There wasn't anything else useful in there, so she began drifting around to other campsites. The coywolf couldn't find anything suitable, so she decided she might see if the local packs might trade her something that she could use to hold up her pants. She wondered if they would accept game in exchange. Did they even keep supplies? Riot didn't know how developed these canine civilizations were; she had yet to check them out personally. Soon...

Growing tired of her futile searching, Riot scouted out a creek and squatted on the bank, balancing gracefully on her dusty white toes. She dipped the old pair of jeans into the slow rapids and began to knead the grime out of the old cotton, watching as years' worth of filth washed away in the clear water. Choppy pieces of hair kept falling into her eyes as she worked, which felt strange; she continously pushed them back. When she finished, she spread the pants out on the grass to dry in the sun, then shifted back into Lupus form and curled up beneath a tree nearby. As she closed her eyes and drowsed, she wondered if she could find a shirt or if she'd have to trade for that too. It would look pretty silly to wander around topless, wouldn't it? Yeah, she thought sleepily, deciding not to bother wearing the jeans until she'd found a shirt too.
#2
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OOC — Welcome to 'Souls :) Enjoying it so far? [200+]


Priam had never been this direction—having surpassed it on his way to Inferni—but two days previous he had prepared to do some exploring on the northwest side of the bay. He took Bairre, his favorite of the communal horses, and packed light, as he always rode saddle-less and only had a small wool sack and harness to carry things. As this was a mapping expedition of sorts, he didn't bother preparing to bring back any supplies.

He was lonely most of the two days; by the second sun he had turned his steed around, bored with his trip and longing for his mattress in his room. Not that he didn't love the outdoors and curling up next to the large, warm body of his companion... he'd simply forgotten how miserable traveling had been for him, and remembered now in his utter loneliness. Bairre was in better spirits, simply eager to be traipsing unfamiliar woods with his trusted rider.

A stream called the Luperci's tall ears, and he tugged Bairre's reins lightly as he directed the horse towards water. He dismounted when they had neared the bank, and he crouched to splash cool water on his burning face and lap up several mouthfuls. His horse had paused to drink as well, but was distracted by the scent of denim, and wandered off slightly to nibble on the hem on some freshly clean jeans.

Priam was too busy cooling off to notice Bairre's interest as more than just grazing.


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<td rowspan="3"><center><img src="http://i.imgur.com/KvBvdIP.png" width="170px" title="By T-Mau5"></center></td> <td class="name">Priam Nothing</td>
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&nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="http://soulsrpg.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=13&t=6273">Postlog</a> &middot;
<a href="http://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Characters.PriamNothing" target="_blank">Wiki</a> &middot; <a href="http://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Players.Cheshire">Player</a>
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<tr><td class="notes">
&middot; Unless otherwise stated, assume he is in Optime
<br/>&middot; Currently <i>possessed</i> by the spirit of <b><a href="http://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Characters.CiraelJuneLykoi">Cirael June</a></b>
<br/> &middot; <b><font color="#b40500">Closed</font></b> for thread requests
<br/> &mdash; Avatar by <a href="#">Kiri</a>
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#3
Thanks! I'm really enjoying myself. I haven't played anything besides realistic wolves since 2006, so it's a lot of fun trying something different. :)

She drifted into deeper sleep and dreams of peculiar things, like a tyrannosaurus rex struggling to hold up an umbrella with one piddly arm. Even as she dozed, Riot smiled at the strange image. She then snuffled, which caused her to wake. Her eyelids fluttered and would've shut again, except that she realized with some distaste that she was no longer in the sun. Smacking her lips sleepily, the young coywolf lifted her head and prepared to shuffle around when she realized that it wasn't just a pesky cloud that was blocking the sunlight; there was a horse hovering over her. She started a little, then quickly jumped to her feet.

Beyond the horse, she saw an evident Luperci splashing in the water upstream. She blinked at him, then up at the horse, whose hide was twitching, perhaps in surprise at her sudden movements. "Neigh," she greeted it, before suddenly realizing that it had been chewing on her "new" jeans. "Hey!" Riot struck out a nimble white paw, hooking a toenail into the cloth and yanking it free of the horse's large, square teeth. "Go eat someone else's pants." She waved a paw in the general direction of the other canine, suggesting that he might have some trousers to spare for a snack.

"Hey," she called to the dismounted rider, leaning sideways to peer at him around the horse's legs. He was a rugged hybrid of some sort, with brownish gray fur and smudges the color of clay marking him in places. Had he noticed her yet? "Your horse is trying to get in my pants," she deadpanned, sharp face angled toward the stranger, mismatched eyes dancing coyly.
#4
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OOC — Psh, hell yeah. I really appreciate the option/ability to have your character in either form at any given time. [200+]


Aware suddenly that someone was talking, he glanced over with water dripping from his lids, wiping his wet face clean as he tried to peer around Bairre's mass and strong legs the same time the other canine had leaned to leer at him. Oh! he said, getting to his feet and jogging the few yards between them. As he reached his horse's side and urged his head up by tugging lightly on his reins, the lone female's joke registered in his head, and he laughed as his pale eyes met an interestingly mis-matched pair of eyes.

I'm terribly sorry, he balked, though his tone had an oddly teasing note to it. Bairre, I'm sorry you're not handsome enough to get in this lady's pants. She wants none of your dashing qualities I'm afraid, he tsked sadly, patting the stallion's cheek and passing a cheeky glance in the strangers direction. Oh yes, sorry to you too.. about the jeans, he shrugged with a telling smirk at first but his expression grew genuine after a moment.

Seriously, I apologize if we disturbed you, he quipped giving the dappled steed another pat, then pushing his large body with directive force, urging him to go graze, which he complied to willingly enough.


image © freefoto on flickr
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<td rowspan="3"><center><img src="http://i.imgur.com/KvBvdIP.png" width="170px" title="By T-Mau5"></center></td> <td class="name">Priam Nothing</td>
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&nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="http://soulsrpg.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=13&t=6273">Postlog</a> &middot;
<a href="http://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Characters.PriamNothing" target="_blank">Wiki</a> &middot; <a href="http://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Players.Cheshire">Player</a>
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&middot; Unless otherwise stated, assume he is in Optime
<br/>&middot; Currently <i>possessed</i> by the spirit of <b><a href="http://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Characters.CiraelJuneLykoi">Cirael June</a></b>
<br/> &middot; <b><font color="#b40500">Closed</font></b> for thread requests
<br/> &mdash; Avatar by <a href="#">Kiri</a>
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[/html]
#5
The stranger quickly dashed to his horse's flank, cold water still dripping from his face. Riot smirked playfully as he apologized, first to his rejected steed and then to her. She shook her head lightly and waved a paw dismissively as he sent the horse off to graze nearby. Using the other paw, she lifted the jeans off the ground. They were still damp. In addition to the tears in the knees, one of the cuffs was now badly frayed. She laughed at the damage, surprised that the horse had actually chewed through the denim. She then draped the pants back on the grass and looked up at her fellow Luperci.

"Don't worry, I actually prefer the 'gently used' look," she quipped. "Makes me feel more hip," she added, lips popping on the "p." She paused, wishing she hadn't shifted back into Lupus form; it would've been more conducive to conversation if they were both bipedal. She could shift, though it would take a moment and she wondered if it was appopriate to do so right in front of him. Was that the sort of thing you could do out in the open or was it like pooping -- more appropriate to do behind a tree or something? This was one of those things she'd missed out on learning earlier.

Well, anyway. "I'm Riot," she said, tipping her tapered muzzle. "You and your valiant steed got names?" she joked, tipping her head and glancing sideways at the grazing stallion before returning her gaze to the other canine's face. A sudden thought struck her and she added, "He has a taste for the inedibles, huh? Do you keep him in an indige-stable back home?" If she'd had hands, she would've slapped her knee right then at her own corny joke. Alas, all she could do was stamp her paw lightly on the ground and make an odd snorting noise.
#6
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[200+]


She wasn't genuinely upset about the pants, a fact which he was secretly glad for given that he couldn't understand a Luperci's desire to clothe themselves. Cloaks, robes and jackets he could perhaps understand—jeans, dresses and tee-shirts were another matter. Being hip's overrated, y'know. It's all about conformity these days—that's where it's at, he explained to her, and though it was a joke, he might realize later that he was very much a conformist type and should probably find some independence in his life...

Nice to meet you, Riot, he said, not commenting aloud on how absolutely intriguing he found her name to be. I'm Priam, and that's Bairre, he waved a hand over towards him, glancing, but his gaze was drawn back to Riot as she willfully expressed her unforeseen talent for jester-ship. A grating noise came from Priam's throat, unsuccessfully stifling a laugh which burst forth cheerily a moment later. Though Riot hadn't been able to, Priam did slap his knee, just as he descended into a sit before her; tail off to the side and knees bent slightly as he observed her with a keen eye.

We actually couldn't find anything he wouldn't try to eat, so we keep him suspended mid-air from a tree back home until it's time to use him, he said, glancing over at Bairre, grazing along the fen, who seemed less and less interested in what either rider or stranger was up to.

Besides his eating disorder, though, he's my favorite horse. Voted 'Best Personality' among all the others as a matter of fact... a title I also hold, might I add?


image © freefoto on flickr
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<td rowspan="3"><center><img src="http://i.imgur.com/KvBvdIP.png" width="170px" title="By T-Mau5"></center></td> <td class="name">Priam Nothing</td>
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&nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="http://soulsrpg.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=13&t=6273">Postlog</a> &middot;
<a href="http://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Characters.PriamNothing" target="_blank">Wiki</a> &middot; <a href="http://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Players.Cheshire">Player</a>
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&middot; Unless otherwise stated, assume he is in Optime
<br/>&middot; Currently <i>possessed</i> by the spirit of <b><a href="http://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Characters.CiraelJuneLykoi">Cirael June</a></b>
<br/> &middot; <b><font color="#b40500">Closed</font></b> for thread requests
<br/> &mdash; Avatar by <a href="#">Kiri</a>
</td> </tr>
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[/html]
#7
Priam, as he called himself, situated himself in front of Riot even as he explained that they kept Bairre the horse suspended in midair back home. She immediately pictured the horse in some jerry-rigged contraption and the mental image made her guffaw loudly. She grinned up at him, realizing even as she did so that she felt like a pet cat or something, with him squatting over her like that.

"Well, aren't you going to scratch behind my ears and give me a saucer of milk?" she joked. It didn't bother her now so much as it made for a funny dimension to their conversation. Whatever the proper etiquette might have been, she decided to stay put on all fours to preserve this silliness. And even though she'd been joking, she peered pointedly up at Priam, awaiting her pats and treats.

Without warning, she vehemently bellowed, "That's a filthy lie!" in response to his apparent superlative. She looked outraged. A split second later, she calmed and smirked a bit like a cheshire cat (she was channeling her inner feline today, evidently), revealing the farce. "Know how I know? Because I hold that title, you thieving douchecanoe. Nice try." She lifted a white paw and pushed it against his knee as if trying to shove him over. Of course, she was much smaller than him and it had zero effect on him.

"So," she continued after letting her paw rest on the ground again, "where do you and Bairre come from, Mr. Second Best Personality?" She might have spoken with familiarity, as if the two of them were old friends. Fast friends, maybe, if he was open to it. But she knew nothing about him, which was why she asked. Riot tipped her head to the side inquisitively, illustrating her real interest in his answers.
#8
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[300+]


At the (playfully) very serious expression Riot gave him, Priam quirked his brows and then smirked very languidly at her. Sorry—no milk, kitty, he teased, using his fingers to sportively claw behind her large ear, fondling the white tip of it as he quickly escaped his hand before she could respond with her teeth. He chuckled, leaning back and supporting himself on his arms anchored slightly behind him; his mouth popped open at her exclamation, before returning to a sly, knowing grin.

Douchecanoe? he laughed, his tail thumping reflexively on the ground behind him. He didn't recognize the term, but her delivery (the entire subject really) gave him a peculiar amount of joy. She put a dainty paw on his knee, shoving zestfully with little to no return on her success. His tongue slipped between his canines, smilingly mocking her, but he held up a pale hand apologetically. Gee... such fierce preservation of the title, I see. You definitely deserve the spot in that case, he added, though the lone female was perfectly confident enough to put him in second place (completely of her own volition), as displayed by her next question.

He looked at Bairre, briefly caught by the horse's movements as he heard his name and looked up curiously before returning to graze again; Priam's ghostly eyes slid back to Riot. Inferni, her answered; a coyote-based pack here in Nova Scotia. Our healthy numbers keep us from being persecuted by wolves... some who think they're the superior species. He didn't mention this with any malice, as he didn't hold the same biases as some of his clanmates, but he found it sometimes helped to mention safety for those who'd been maltreated.

Somehow, Riot didn't come off as someone who'd been abused before or had faced much resistance just because of her blood. He could be wrong.


image © freefoto on flickr
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<td rowspan="3"><center><img src="http://i.imgur.com/KvBvdIP.png" width="170px" title="By T-Mau5"></center></td> <td class="name">Priam Nothing</td>
</tr>
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&nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="http://soulsrpg.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=13&t=6273">Postlog</a> &middot;
<a href="http://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Characters.PriamNothing" target="_blank">Wiki</a> &middot; <a href="http://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Players.Cheshire">Player</a>
</td>
</tr>
<tr><td class="notes">
&middot; Unless otherwise stated, assume he is in Optime
<br/>&middot; Currently <i>possessed</i> by the spirit of <b><a href="http://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Characters.CiraelJuneLykoi">Cirael June</a></b>
<br/> &middot; <b><font color="#b40500">Closed</font></b> for thread requests
<br/> &mdash; Avatar by <a href="#">Kiri</a>
</td> </tr>
</table>
[/html]
#9
You write very cleverly. :D

Priam called the land by a proper name: Nova Scotia. It was the first time Riot had heard this term, so she committed it to memory. She then listened intently as he described a pack known as Inferni, where coyotes lived in relative safety from any overbearing wolves. This information made Riot blink loudly. Since when did wolves think they were above coyotes or vice versa? The word "persecute" rang particularly strongly in Riot's oversized ears. It sounded like there might be a history there, likely a violent one. Her head tipped to the side.

"Well, shee-it, what happens when you're half-and-half?" she joked. "Do you just pick whichever team you like better or something?" The coywolf was immensely curious about the local packs, so she followed up by suggesting, "You should tell me more about Inferni and this... persecution. I mean, what's that all about?" As she spoke, she flung her belly to the ground and somehow managed to crook her forelegs into the air so she could perch her head on them and gaze inquisitively up at Priam, just like a teenager girl eager to hear the latest juicy gossip.
#10
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[400+] OOC — Why spank you very much ;) You're not too shabby yourself


You're in luck then because we're really into hybrids this season, he smirked. Hell, they took me in and I look more wolfish than my mother and either of my siblings, he admitted, though was immediately unsure why. He had never mentioned his family exclusively before (and unprovoked)—and this was for a reason—so he was inwardly baffled for a moment until regarding Riot again with an evened gaze. No matter the mickle troubles usually going on in his head, they wouldn't ever show on his perpetually pleasant face. Not that they're around these parts, he added, unfazed.

As for her question as packs, he began nodding slowly. It really is like that, to be honest. You should check 'em out—see if you get along with some of the pack's members—whoever you like best and likes you best, you should go with, he shrugged. This wasn't why he'd joined Inferni, so he wasn't exactly speaking from experience or the like... but it felt right to say. He watched her settled in, smirking slightly as he looked elsewhere, namely over his slightly bent knees and out idly into unfamiliar territory. In history wolves have been superior to coyotes, physically anyway, and things like that creates a complex or a rift of sort between species.

He wasn't sure he was making any sense, but he wasn't trying to scare her out of Nova Scotia either. She seemed newer (than him) to the area in general and highly curious. Priam didn't want her to think this was a land riddled with constant war. Tensions have considerably lessened in our generations, but still... there's some traditionalists out there, something like Inferni, who prefer those closer to their kind and will defend them from being viewed as weak. He hoped it made some sense. As for speaking about Inferni, I'm not allowed really. We're sworn to secrecy when we join and vow to keep our clan's ways behind a tight lip, he remarked finally with a cleverly attached grin in her direction.

We're allowed to hint, I guess... and our reputation certainly precedes us, so you could probably ask most anyone not an Infernian about us, but that's all I can say. Priam shrugged, tight-lipped for a talkative fellow. I'm also not an expert on the packs around here, so before you go firing off questions about them, I can only point you in general directions, he informed her as an afterthought, raising his brows in a keenly knowing fashion and then tilting his head slightly.

Without missing a beat in the silence following conversation, he switched it up. So what's your story, Ri-Ri? Running from the circus or looking to join the zoo?


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<td rowspan="3"><center><img src="http://i.imgur.com/KvBvdIP.png" width="170px" title="By T-Mau5"></center></td> <td class="name">Priam Nothing</td>
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&nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="http://soulsrpg.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=13&t=6273">Postlog</a> &middot;
<a href="http://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Characters.PriamNothing" target="_blank">Wiki</a> &middot; <a href="http://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Players.Cheshire">Player</a>
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&middot; Unless otherwise stated, assume he is in Optime
<br/>&middot; Currently <i>possessed</i> by the spirit of <b><a href="http://wiki.soulsrpg.com/index.php?n=Characters.CiraelJuneLykoi">Cirael June</a></b>
<br/> &middot; <b><font color="#b40500">Closed</font></b> for thread requests
<br/> &mdash; Avatar by <a href="#">Kiri</a>
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#11
Perhaps because of the specific nature of the conversation, Riot felt oddly defensive of her coyote brethren, even though her genes were evenly divided. This feeling grew particularly intense when Priam mentioned the supposed superiority of wolves. Puh-lease, Riot thought, though she didn't interrupt him. He continued on to mention that the tensions had eased some in the more recent past, though there were traditionalists wandering around here just as everywhere else. When he added that he actually couldn't tell her much more about Inferni -- his lips were evidently sealed -- Riot's eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Well then," she said, her voice mockingly haughty. She paused, then said, "What if I tickle it out of you?" while suddenly springing upright and holding out a paw threateningly, two-toned eyes still glittering. A beat later, she let it drop, her head now tilting in the other direction. Priam's inability to inform her of his pack's ways made Riot's curiosity about it burn all the brighter. Yet she didn't really want to go out and wrangle information out of other outsiders. Maybe she'd have more luck if she went there directly to have a look-see for herself. She was cute and currently held the Best Personality title, after all.

At Priam's question, Riot snorted. "Uh, both," she replied in a very duh tone. "Maybe I'm going to be as ambiguous as you are, Pri-Pri," she added, snickering at her own wordplay. Secretly, she enjoyed the sudden assignment of nicknames. She let that hang out there for a moment before saying, "There's really not much to it. My story's yet to be written, really." As she said this, her eyes drifted momentarily to the grazing Bairre, then snapped back to Priam. She wasn't trying to be elusive on purpose, yet Riot didn't really feel like lingering on the subject. So what should she ask next?

After only a moment of hesitation: "So, you got a gurlfrand? Or maybe a boyfrand?"


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