Frozen Peril

Shaamah

POSTED: Tue Jan 01, 2019 1:30 pm

OOC: St. John's River/Camp Gagetown, outside Mistfell Vale. Let me know if I need to change anything! WC: 569

IC: The frigid weather had kept Sedona from taking many extended trips outside of the Vale. Winter time was known to cause excess hardship not only to loners out on their own in the wild, but thriving packs as well. It was a season of dormancy, rest and renewal typically; a waiting period for the arrival and return of Spring.The lands were still very much frozen and the many water ways were ice locked. The cowgirl hadn't intended to travel very far due to these harsh conditions, but it had been too long since she'd taken her mare, Hopi out on a good day's ride just for the hell of it. The past couple of days the lands had gotten a couple extra feet of snow, so moving about on foot was not as easy as it was making your way upon horseback. Especially for someone of Sedona's stature. Nearly four feet of snow piled and banked everywhere was enough to make a perfect white wonderland, but it made the coydog have to work extra hard to get anywhere if she didn't take the more common tread paths and walkways that she and the other Valemen took extra care to keep clear.

High up on the quarter horse's back, the Whitesage woman had a vantage point over the shimmering white landscape she lacked when going about in any of her three forms without Hopi. She steered the mare slowly through the ruins of old Camp Gagetown, having spent most of the morning meandering with the mare through the Vale's territories, enjoying the untouched, silent beauty of the winter wilderness. She'd startled a snow hare and a few birds here and there, and even spotted a small herd of deer roaming through the middle of the pack lands. The cowgirl had made a mental note of their general vicinity so she could report their whereabouts back to Felix or Dalia for hunting. The pack could never use too much food in store. Now, following carefully along a side tributary off the St. John's river, Sedona kept her unique gold and green eyes peeled for a solid, stable place to cross the frozen waterway so she may continue her journey before looping back and heading around into Mistfell's territory again. Gagetown always felt weirdly eerie. The abandoned human settlement was one that begged for more exploring, but at a date when the ground wasn't so muddy and the sun could actually warm one's fur and the air didn't sap away any body heat one had as soon as it was generated.

It wasn't long before the cowgirl found what she judged to be a safe crossing point on the river. The water didn't appear very deep or far across at first glance, but it was definitely frozen. The Hawkesond dismounted and tapped a foot hard upon the edge of the ice, a satisfying hard thunk resounded. No cracks, no groans of stress. All good signs. Hopi snorted, uncertain and the woman soothed her mount before resecuring her grip on the mare's lead rope. "Alright girl, let's get across, then we can stop for some lunch." She told the paint equine before smiling and adjusting her cloak about her body and her cowgirl hat upon her head and stepping out onto the ice, leading her mare behind her, one step at a time, listening for any signs the ice was no longer safe.
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POSTED: Sun Jan 20, 2019 7:45 pm

The weather did wonders for many things. Shaamah could go out farther than summer heat might allow, pulling longer days and shorter nights with plenty of time to sleep in small intervals between without being disrupted. His little mishap with a Mistwalker had retained the prize of a wildcat, which lay half-frozen over his shoulder, as he continued west for a few more stops before he turned back home. He debated the pelt being for his own use, but it made little sense. He endured the cold easily, where as he could put the creature to storage or trade for Salsola's profit. The latter two options seemed to better fit his purpose.

Claiming the title of loner, he continued to move beneath the trees as he neared the area where Mistfell had their keep, and through to Camp Gaugetown from there, giving the territory wide girth. As far as they were concerned, he was no foe, as long as the murder in the mire hadn't come to be public knowledge. Best to keep his distance, as he did with Casa di Cavalieri, due to other necessary evils committed.

Passing over the bridges built in the Camp, he moved on toward the fork that birthed the Eastern watershed and more Northern Moosehead lake. The whisper of Krokar's fallen lands might bring some goods to Salsola, of which hadn't already been picked clean by the nearer packs. If the soldier was able to even bring one thing from the fire wasted land, then it would be worth the trip in all.

The purpose in mind altered, however, as tracks pressed into the snow. A horse and it's rider passed through here. It wasn't curiosity, so much as paranoia that had the warrior doubling over the tracks and making the very same way as his predecessor did. Where they went, what they were doing and why, were all valid questions needing to be answers before he could continue on his journey, unhindered.

Following the rise, it wasn't long until the beast heard before he found the horse and rider at the riverside. She tested the ice for stability, and within Shaamah's mind, he had a sour feeling that she was going to go under. A Mistwalker, as had his last interaction had been, doing something foolish with their spare time. It would be, however, a pleasant opportunity to take note of exactly what Mistfell knew of him, if the woman knew anything at all. With that in mind, Shaamah took toward the woman who tested the strength of the ice with a patient, wary pace.


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POSTED: Sat Jan 26, 2019 12:03 am

OOC: Sorry for the wait! WC: 439

The goings on outside of Mistfell Vale were not something the Whitesage woman were up to date on. She hadn't exactly been outside the pack until today and she'd not intended to be gone for very long to begin with. Saga nor Felix had reported anything so the coydog was of the opinion travel was safe. Any murders, thievery or otherwise less than noble happenings fell upon the would be deaf and blind. At least that was the case for the Hawkesond.

Sedona was intently focused on testing her footing on the ice to be aware of the large stranger approaching her position. It was Hopi whose nervous snort and whinny that alerted the cowgirl something was amiss. It wasn't just the ice that had the mare on edge, though that definitely made the large beast flighty. BUt the woman didn't get the horses' queue. Sedona cooed and patted the Mustang's neck with soothing tones and love trying to coax her forward after her onto the ice. The surface so far held steady and as long as she was careful about their footing, staying to the thickest parts of the river, the two, horse and rider would make it across to home. There were of course land bridges over into Mistfell territory, but none were close enough to be worth the long ride around. The stubborn cowgirl knew she could navigate the frozen waters just one...step...at...a...t---

The worst happened then. "Oh, shit!" Was all the woman had time to say. With a loud crrrraaack the ice shuddered beneath her feet and her horse's making the animal panic and rear up, her large shift in weight causing the crack in the ice to weaken more and send the two of them plunging into the rushing, freezing waters beneath. Sedona heard Hopi scream in primal terror, saw the whites of the animal's eyes as they both went under, dragged by the powerful current, the air stolen from their lungs by the frigid waters. Desperately trying to get control of the flailing animal, keep her own head above water and not get kicked in the head, Sedona flailed and choked on the water, her body growing stiff, frozen and tired quickly as the water sapped her strength from her small frame. Clinging to Hopi as the horse struggled to gain footing on the bottom of the riverbed, Sedona spotted a hulking figure on the riverside, calling out weakly to him before slipping under again, the now broken ice surface creating a cascading effect of breaking more and more ice as the bodies of the two mammals were dragged by the current downstream.
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POSTED: Tue Feb 12, 2019 2:39 pm

It was the shuddering sound of ice, a familiar and harrowing, echoing noise that stretched the span of the river from shore to shore. The rippling sound if the ice's shattering groan came with a curse, a whinny of terror, and the baritone of the two bodies meeting the water.

Rather than debate the reality of the situation, Shaamah saw his opportunity to ensure his relation with Mistfell Vale remained on the better side of neutral. Dropping the wildcat into the snow, as it certainly wasn't going anywhere, he loped off after the fallen woman and her steed. The hoarse choking and gargling accompanied the sound of snow crunching under his feet and kicking up behind him. It seemed the Mistwalker in the water had finally seen him, a black shadow against the white of the snow, and cried out for him in something unintelligible against the shattering of ice and the wind in his ears.

She was lucky that he was here, of anyone, which seemed a terribly ironic thing to say considering who and what Shaamah often was.

Though, rather than cut into the waters where the ice had already broken, he charged with high knees through the depth of the snow to get between them and the ice that was ready to break in their path. Wasting no time, the beast lunged onto the ice that was stable, but with his weight he already knew what was coming.

It shattered beneath him, the cold water rushing to his skin without the shock or rushing sting embracing his nerves. Despite the lack of the frigid bite, he could feel his muscles tense and knew that there was only a brief amount of time before he'd suffer a hypothermia he couldn't judge the sensation of properly. The rushing waters pushed his great weight from beneath him, but with his size he had just enough over the water's edge to find purchase. The current pushed against him, but toe claws dug into the riverbed, and finally, he was stable.

He wasn't so daft as to try to catch the horse and he evaded the beast through the waters well enough, with room still to grasp at the woman beneath the water's edge. Pulling her up by her arm, he lifted her head above water, using her own buoyancy to bring her up against the current. He'd not known that she was connected to the horse's reigns at the time, and the force of the horse passing them pulled them both beneath the water.

The soldier sunk like a stone, to their great fortune. His free hand and feet gripped at the ground, finally finding purchase again despite the fact his toes slid with the horse's weight. Breaking the icy surface, he filled great lungs with a gasp and a growl as he pulled the woman above as well. If he was going to get her out of the ice, she'd have to release the horse. It was just an animal, anyways. Not worth her life, or Shaamah's mind declared with his blatant disregard for the animals,” Release it!” The rumble of his chest rolled as ice battered his armored chest as the current brought the frozen chunks against him, pummeling his core. It weakened his footing with each blow, and his waning grip was proof of it. It wouldn't do either of them any good to be weighed down by that horse.


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