Splitting Hares

Andi

POSTED: Thu Aug 28, 2014 7:43 pm

  • Word Count: 707
  • Setting: 29th, midday. Woods outside Jordheim
  • Form: Wolf
---

Arno certainly wasn't his usual sunny self as he stalked through the woods, growling faintly in irritation to himself as he sniffed around, trying to pick up a trail that some part of him knew was long gone.

It wouldn't take a genius to figure out the source of Arno's ill mood; the boy was a mess. Arno's fur always had a slight messiness to it, but its condition right now made his usual visage look neat. Arno's fur was stuck up every which way and littered with small twigs and leaves, and a wide collection of small scratches adorned his muzzle and flanks; the whole thing giving the distinct – and correct – impression that Arno had gotten into a fight with a piece of foliage and lost, badly.

And despite the scratches, the pulled fur and the unpleasant taste of his own blood from where he had bitten a twig by accident, Arno had nothing of worth to show for his efforts . And he had indeed been putting some effort forth today; Arno had spent the better part of the day since the sun had risen running after some piece of prey or another. Unfortunately enthusiasm and a strong natural build didn't quite make up for a lack of experience and true skill when trying for prey that had managed to survive this close to a major wolf pack and Arno had been wholly unsuccessful in his hunting efforts.

The particular piece of prey that had been eluding him most recently – and which had given him a rather intimate introduction to several conveniently placed, rather sharp bushes – was a nice, juicy looking hare. A nice piece of prey if he had managed to catch it, but not quite worth the effort Arno was going through to try and find it's scent again; honestly by this point he was tracking the hare more through stubbornness and anger than any true desire to eat it. Perhaps he would see if he could badger one of the Luperci into skinning it for him, get a trophy and a meal in one.

Still, any thoughts of revenge for his poor abused fur would need to wait until he actually managed to catch the thing. And as soon as he finally caught a hint of familiar scent amongst the leafy undergrowth Arno was off like a rocket, moving as fast as he could while still following the trail. Soon enough he actually caught sight of the hare again, which was a change; was it just him or did it seem to be moving slower now? Maybe it was tiring?

Bolstered by the thought Arno pressed on, ignoring the burning in his own lungs as he and the hare ran through the undergrowth. The hare had led him on a merry chase so far and continued to do so. As much as Arno had been trying to keep his mother's advice about knowing the terrain in mind he found it impossible to actually do so while running this fast, not with terrain he only half knew. The hare, however, seemed to have been sitting in on all of Aimée's strategy lessons and studying diligently judging by the way it constantly ducked in and out of holes and bushes too small for Arno.

Bit by bit though, Arno was gaining on it. He was tiring quickly though and couldn't keep up his pace much longer. Not long enough to get a secure distance that he could strike from. Instead, just as he felt he couldn't keep on running any more, Arno took one last mighty lunge forwards and snapped. He tasted blood, and the hare screamed.

It wasn't enough though. Arno hadn't gone quite far enough and the young canine slid to the floor with a scrap of skin and a mouthful of fur. The hare, in pain and with a significantly less fluffy tail but still alive, quickly streaked off into the distance. Arno watched it go before finally admitting defeat and flopping down onto the forest floor. Grimacing at the texture he spat out the hare fur as best he could and started to pant away his exertion, tongue lolling out of his mouth and chest heaving.

Arno Rousseau
Now it's time to say goodbye, To the things we loved, And the innocence of youth.

User avatar
Alex
Luperci Craftsman
Scars strengthen the soul

POSTED: Tue Sep 02, 2014 9:22 am

sorry for the wait!

The woman found herself more and more alone. She had always enjoyed her time away from the pack's village, away from the noise and the constant possibility of meeting another pack mate. Social moments were not always comfortable for her and the time on her own, with her own thoughts and feelings, brought her a much needed sense of calm and renewed energy.

Patrolling was an excuse to take her bow and wander through the forest of Vinátta, leave conversation behind and focus her energy on less abrasive aspects of life.

Her skills in tracking had developed over the summer months, watching the ground carefully as her nose spoke of what lingered on the wind. The borders had been quiet, and all she saw was the prints of prey and those too small to be a threat to their pack. It certainly eased her, but always left her wondering if she would ever be challenged. If her bow ever tested.

Unspoken questions would be left as such, for saying them aloud would certainly make her wish to that of hurt pack members and a ravished territory. Rather Andira pushed the thoughts aside, and thanked the gods for a peaceful summer.

That peace and quiet ended soon enough. The merle coated female was simply walking through the undergrowth when she heard the rustle of bush and branch. The fall of foot-paws came all too fast and the trained warrior armed her bow with a thin arrow and steadied herself. She did not see where the rabbit ran off to, but could smell it's fear and perhaps a hunt of blood. She moved swiftly, fingers light on the arrow until she found the canine behind the fleeing hare.

Andira didn't know the male, and her pale lips were drown in a thin line as she watched him. Better luck next time. She called out to him, easing in her tense stance. It was clear that he was a pack member and any coldness was unnecessary. He looked as if he had been chasing his prey for awhile, or he had been yanked through every briar bush between there and Jordheim.


User avatar
Alli
Luperci
HER BOW IS DRAWN
TO WORLDS OF DARK

POSTED: Mon Sep 15, 2014 6:04 pm

  • Word Count: 238
  • Setting: ---
  • Form: Wolf
---

With his senses still heightened from the chase Arno heard the stranger approaching well before she was visible, ears twitching to track the crackle of leaves and the thud of approaching footsteps while he slowly tilted his head so he could watch her emerge from the forest. Chocolate eyes noted the stranger's tense stance and the bow she carried – Arno's mother had described the odd implement well enough for him to recognise one – but Arno was too tired to really do much more than watch her approach. The boy had pushed his developing body about as far as it would go chasing the rabbit, and now that the adrenaline had worn off he had little energy left to waste being defensive towards someone who was almost certainly a pack member.

“I hope so.” Arno muttered around his panting, slowly and shakily pushing himself up into a sitting position so that he could have at least a little dignity and not hold a conversation with his stomach pointed towards the heavens. “The stupid thing's had me dashing about all morning. Balle stupide de fourrure” he grumbled, casting a poisonous glance off in the direction that the rabbit had bolted before turning back to the girl. He glanced again at the weapon she carried and automatically assumed that she was after the same task as him. “You having any better luck then me?”

Arno Rousseau
Now it's time to say goodbye, To the things we loved, And the innocence of youth.

User avatar
Alex
Luperci Craftsman
Scars strengthen the soul

POSTED: Tue Sep 16, 2014 11:07 am

The youth watched her with a tired look in his eyes. Such is right, he had run quite a bit. Rabbits were not for chasing, at least in the Araedi's eyes. Hares were for trapping in snares and for hunting down with the bow and arrow. The guardian lower herself into a fell log, resting her legs as he spoke.

Andi shook her head, No, my intention is to patrol. she clarified. His tone and expression caused her to smile, but the woman did not laugh on behalf of his short comings. He was young, and still learning. From her eyes he seemed old enough to shift and thus practice other arts in hunting.

Andi, Araedi. The woman introduced, and waited for him to do the same.

Hares are fast. They will always be faster then we are. But they are also stupid, and easily tricked. She expressed her insight casually, Maybe you should try traps. A snare along a game trail could be done easily and checked with far less effort then it took to chase. Half of life was choosing how to express energy wisely.


User avatar
Alli
Luperci
HER BOW IS DRAWN
TO WORLDS OF DARK

POSTED: Tue Sep 16, 2014 12:21 pm

  • Word Count: 211
  • Setting: ---
  • Form: Wolf
Let the spreeing begin :-)

Arno gave a self-deprecating grin in response to the girl's smile, shifting himself into a more comfortable position to talk from. “I'm Arno, uhh-” Arno paused for a moment, trying to remember what he had been told his rank was. Despite Arno's bilingualism he wasn't actually very good at learning new languages and the odd words that Vinatta used for places and ranks tripped him up sometimes, “Risa? I'm new, whichever rank you give to new people.” he guessed, shrugging at the end; what his rank within the pack was called wasn't something that Arno really worried himself about. “Nice to meet you Andi.” he remembered to add at the end; social niceties and greetings hadn't been something he had really had to worry about until recently and he was rusty.

The youth listened with interest as Andi talked about the hares he had been trying to chase. That they were fast was something that Arno knew well enough by now, but their stupidity was new; he could probably use that somehow. Her last bit of advise was less useful and Arno cocked his head in confusion. “Traps?” he echoed, “You mean, like hiding where they go and surprising them? I tried that; it heard me, or smelled me, or something.”

Arno Rousseau
Now it's time to say goodbye, To the things we loved, And the innocence of youth.

User avatar
Alex
Luperci Craftsman
Scars strengthen the soul

POSTED: Tue Sep 16, 2014 12:40 pm

She found nothing odd about his introduction. Their ranks came easily to her, all tucked away in his mind, but she had been born here. Vinátta was all she knew, and even though it served her will amongst her packmates there was something to be said about someone that had been off on their own. And at such a young age.

He wasn't experienced in trapping, and the woman didn't mind explaining. The borders would be there waiting for her, no matter how late. She also didn't mind the distraction from such practiced patrols.

At his words she shook her head, brows coming together a bit in her confusion. That wasn't what she meant at all. No, more like snares. She explained. The woman then rose, bow in hand and quiver on her back she moved soundlessly, first a step towards him and then her eyes fell to the ground as she looked for a trail.

Waving the canine towards her she crouched in the underbrush. There was a path, the grass worn to the root and the undergrowth pushed aside. It was easy to spot, if one knew what to look for. See here. Their always passing through, walking the same path. You could set up a snare, well a few... Right along the trail and your bound to snag something. Andi rose, feeling quite accomplished in her hunting lesson. It wasn't all that hard.


User avatar
Alli
Luperci
HER BOW IS DRAWN
TO WORLDS OF DARK

POSTED: Tue Sep 16, 2014 12:50 pm

  • Word Count: 209
  • Setting: ---
  • Form: Wolf
---

Snares. The word sounded vaguely familiar, something that Ma had mentioned at some point or another, but Arno couldn't quite remember what they were. Still mulling the word over in his memory he happily followed Andi as she started looking about in the undergrowth, eventually finding and pointing out the trail she had been looking for. Arno hadn't noticed these before – he had mostly been working off finding dens and streams where the hares drank – and he eagerly sniffed around it, taking in the strong scent of hare that lingered along the trail.

Andi's explanation of how and where to use a snare triggered Arno's memory as to what a snare actually was and his ears dropped in dismay; it was good advice, but not advice that he could use. He was pretty sure that something as complicated as a snare would require hands, and if he were to have someone else put snares down for him then it wouldn't really be him hunting at all. “Oh, right, snares.” he said, frowning, “I can't do those.” It was a shame, even not knowing how to make snares Arno could recognise how useful they would be if he could figure out how to find more of these trails.

Arno Rousseau
Now it's time to say goodbye, To the things we loved, And the innocence of youth.

User avatar
Alex
Luperci Craftsman
Scars strengthen the soul

POSTED: Tue Sep 16, 2014 1:15 pm

durpdurp-Andi XD

Thinking perhaps that she might show him a thing or two about snares and the materials that could be gathered to make them Andi had not prepared herself for what Arno said next.

Looking at the Risna she was obviously confused, but that was simply a passing moment. Oh, you can't shift yet? She asked, her eyes watching his concerned features. That was nothing to feel shamed about. Then, someday. You will be able to them someday. Snares are certainly worth learning, regardless. she replied with a soft smile, a hand placed on her hip.

He shouldn't look so down, simply because he was young. The idea that he could never shift hadn't even crossed her mind. She had never met a non-luperci and the idea was the far from her thoughts.


User avatar
Alli
Luperci
HER BOW IS DRAWN
TO WORLDS OF DARK

POSTED: Tue Sep 16, 2014 1:39 pm

  • Word Count: 167
  • Setting: ---
  • Form: Wolf
XD

Arno cocked his head blankly as Andi continued speaking about snares, evidently mistaking him for a very young Luperci or something similar. Arno didn't feel particularly insulted – she had first assumed that he was a Luperci old enough to shift after all – but he did allow himself an internal chuckle as he thought about a puppy that young that was his size.

“Not yet, just can't.” he clarified, shaking his head, “I'm 9 moons old, can't shift. My mother is 8 years old, can't shift; we're not like you, not Luperci.” There was a hint of sadness and jealousy in Arno's voice. While his mother was deeply proud of being, in her words, “a pure wolf”, Arno had seen some of the cool things that Luperci could do and wanted some of that for himself. Trying to push the jealousy away Arno grinned and held up one paw, shaking it in-front of his face while he balanced on three legs. “No fingers, no snares, sadly.”

Arno Rousseau
Now it's time to say goodbye, To the things we loved, And the innocence of youth.

User avatar
Alex
Luperci Craftsman
Scars strengthen the soul

POSTED: Fri Oct 03, 2014 1:05 pm

sorry for the wait!

Fingers ran through her shortly-cut mane as he spoke. His words were not ones she had heard before. In fact, the female had never met another that -wasn't- a Luperci. Of course she knew that they existed, but she hadn't experienced meeting one before. There were other packs that were more feral then the vikings, and the rumors of their lack of the mutating virus were spoke quite often. Finding that Arno was unable to shift made her wonder why he hadn't chosen to live in New Dawn. Where it was much more common.

Oh, I'm sorry. I just didn't know. She spoke, perhaps redundantly but she felt compelled to show she hadn't meant any offense. His attempt to balance on three legs did cause the woman to smile, though she still felt the sting of her false assumption.

Thinking quickly she looked at the ground, Well, I've always done my best tracking on four legs. If you could get closer you'd certainly have a better chance of catching one. She spoke, trying once more to be helpful. Though not as soft and bright as her sister might be the young woman spoke on, And there's no need to chance as long as you did. If you can catch them right after your surprise them, it's pointless. She added matter of factly.

Then she thought of something. Maybe you could track one down for me, and if we're lucky I could get a clear shot. she held up her bow. It seemed like a fair partnership, and it might just redeem her for her mistake.


User avatar
Alli
Luperci
HER BOW IS DRAWN
TO WORLDS OF DARK

Dead Topics