who do you think you are

Shaamah

POSTED: Tue May 12, 2015 12:04 am

keep screaming 'til they hear you out
[ 366 ] » Forest of Wabanaki Coast, southwest-ish of Mount Oromocto, dusk. Sorry this is poop!

As if in anticipation of the solace of nightfall the forest was hushed and hardly a sound could be heard above the soft whisper of the cool late spring breeze. The warm palette of eventide sunglow flitted through the trees as if it were alive, each shimmering ray of waning light seeming to twist and meander around each towering timber in defiance of the oncoming darkness. In what seemed like an effort to preserve such tranquility every resident of the peaceful scene moved within it with equal concord. The normally vocal population of birds up in the canopy sat soundlessly facing the evanescing rays upon the horizon while a small herd of white tailed deer calmly grazed in a quiet clearing bursting with lush and verdant clover.

Forgoing the thundering hooves of Indra for a more stealthy approach the young hybrid took to the forest upon her foot-paws with only her bow and quiver in her company. Near soundless upon thick pads against sodden moss and saturated leaf litter she moved swiftly and fluidly through the crowded wood in search of something she deemed worthy of her efforts. Rabbits and other small game had made up most of her diet when she first arrived in the northlands and while they did well to sate her voracious appetite spawned from a long and arduous journey, now that she was back in her prime she wanted more; more meat, more challenge, something bigger, something stronger.

The scents and sounds came quickly once she settled on a target and it wasn’t long before the temptress tracked her way to the small clearing where the deer had settled to dine, the trio – a large stag and two does – too engrossed in their grazing to notice the approaching predator. A wild Cheshire smile eased to her sharp maw as she slowly slid into a crouched position and carefully plucked an arrow from her quiver. With each movement purposeful and precise she set the arrow upon her bow and drew the string back toward her jaw, one bright golden eye peering down the shaft in exact aim toward her target; broadside, ribcage, lungs, heart, hemorrhage, death. She never missed. She never failed.

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POSTED: Tue May 12, 2015 2:30 am

Under canvas of boscage, a behemoth lay in wait. A silence beset the vast terraqueous environment. It encircled him and he became it, his position retained extensively enough that he was an element of the woodland, itself. Groundwork held firmly while chest scarcely undulated, nearly static, with each undeviatingly composed, eupnoic intake. Elephantine form lingered near the terrene plot, folieage knotted through the hale columns that fortified him; indefatigable sights and fractured nasal leather dessicated from the statuesque nature of his provisional nest. He had remained hours in this site, and even as his quarry settled before him masticating, he hadn't offered his scorching abdomen any tidings. The proper juncture to ascent to action hadn't occurred, not yet.

The crisp earth beneath him, long since solidified from the spate of considerable flooding, now enclosed with lively and lush forestry amid the humus of leaves that had decayed the previous autumn. This location had been rich with all manner of rodent, none of which had tamed the constant famine of substantial muscle. His sloth was given the ultimatum that, unless he found something to genuinely sustain him, he would be endurant to make due while more often idle for efficiencies sake. As the hoofed creatures meandered cluelessly nearby, he would have his chance to take upon the animals and the ability to make more use of himself than an unpleasant decoration that heckled passerby's with futile gazes. With this fauna, he'd have the ability to prove himself outright to any who defied him so inanely, as many had since his arrival here. That or, prove himself to anyone who sought protection for his normal trade. Food and board, for a soldier who wouldn't defy laws. It was any tyrants dream, and there was always a cruel king waiting for someone to tip the scales between his enemies. This was something Shaamah was well versed in, through experience alone.

Prey meandered amid their little space, crossing each other in his view as he hesitated for just a moment longer. Their steps while grazing took the trio of deer into a spread, the one at the hind of the small herd watched diligently with a hunters eyes. Dappled sun vacillated on its chest as it breathed, munching contentedly on the blades that sat helplessly beneath it. The beast exhaled with caution, clearing his chest so that the impact of that animal to the earth would not wind him. A silent step forward was stolen. This would be the kill of the week and even Mercier would be able to dine from it once Shaamah had his fill.
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POSTED: Wed May 13, 2015 7:44 pm

keep screaming 'til they hear you out
[ 274 ]

The arrow was loosed as swiftly as it was drawn and in an instant it bit through fur and flesh, lodging its sharp steel within the thick sinew of a shoulder; straight on, trapezius muscle, deep, flesh wound, pain, but no kill. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. With a hiss of frustration the huntress rose to her foot-paws as the trio of deer darted off in a panic, each taking a different direction, each pumping its limbs like their lives depended on it. They would be troublesome to track down again later, but not impossible, it was simply an added annoyance that she did not want to have to waste her time and energy on doing. "Ugh, what a pain in the ass." She muttered as she tied the long strip of leather she used to carry her bow to each end of the weapon before slinging it onto her back.

Stepping out from her place hidden within a small copse of tightly clustered trees and thick verdant underbrush the golden-eyed goddess let loose an exasperated sigh as she beheld the source of her frustrations. What had been perfect aim toward a perfect killshot had been thwarted by a wayward wanderer looking for a kill of his own. "You've ruined everything, beast." She said very matter-of-factly at the skewered male, halting her locomotion at a distance she deemed safe, wary of getting too close to a wounded animal. "I want my arrow back." Nimble fingers plucked a knife from her quiver before her long lissome arms rose to cross against her chest, which heaved in another sigh of displeasure, though this time is was slightly exaggerated.

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POSTED: Wed May 13, 2015 11:38 pm

It had been quite some time until a blade had bitten into him.

It wasn't an easy task to manage all four paws off of the solid ground that held his shadow. Mid-lunge and the herbivore had taken off, but the soldier felt a fire in his shoulder rip him away from his course. The quick hum and whip of the arrow processed only seconds after. His forelegs made contact initially, the electric pain and blazing grip in his flank toying with his footing. He stumbled. Haunches found purchase and stabled the unlevel monster, and heterochromic eyes pierced from whence the weapon had fired. A veiled huntress stepped from her mark, bow her to back and a clear expression of distaste. Hackles shivered as a guaranteed loathsome encounter was about to be made.

Crimson crawled through the follicles on his skin from the puncture as his glare narrowed with the shrinking distance between them. The depth in which the arrow had met him granted him that she was not green in its use. Mottled lineage dappled her features, her body with lean muscle. Her feminine manner of movement gave a rise to a foul taste in his mouth, and his stomach turned. Whether it be from the projectile planted firmly in his shoulder, or the voice of the young thing herself, he'd leave to be discovered. After her quick elucidating remark, he had found his twisted abdomen to be caused more dismay from the woman and her fatuity, than any pain that would come from the long dart she had gifted him.

He returned to her on her initial comment, nothing but silence, as flank began to tremor. Jaw clamped tight, the muscle reaching out beneath drawn face. His expression alone would be enough for her to know he cared nothing for her childish criticism. Imagine that? Shaamah, ruining something? He had long since submitted to the fact that his inclusion brought deterioration of everything and everyone that he neared. He'd taken it as an asset, one of which she'd be blessed with the presence of. She had, at least, kept her distance. At this point, Shaamah could have taken her down on principle alone.

And she went on to press his patience further than he'd known it to stretch. He relieved his wounded stilt of its weight, bracing himself in the opposite rear to hold steady. Eye reached to the wooden dowel that reached out, it's feathered end propped stiffly erect, before finding her again. Much to his displeasure, it seemed she was preparing herself with yet another blade at the ready and a garish sough. How he despised children. He'd grant her weapon back to her, certainly.

Maw whipped to the side, his feral glare retained to her own, as jaws clamped upon the stalk that had entered his muscle. The wood was no match for the sharp snap of tight molars. It shattered within his mouth, and what was left of the flagged end was tossed to the earth between them. It would be returned to her with the interest she had gathered while it had found billet within him.
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POSTED: Tue May 19, 2015 7:15 pm

keep screaming 'til they hear you out
[ 354 ] » Sorry for the delay~ busy work week.

For a moment she wondered if she had tagged a mindless animal or an actual luperci, she wasn't entirely sure, but the way he had reacted to the bite of the arrow, the way he seemed somewhat unfazed by its point digging into muscle and flesh, slowly pushed her certainly toward the latter than the former. He knew what an arrow was, where it came from, and why it was now sticking out of him, so much so that when she demanded he return it, he broke it. Broke it. The shaft, near perfectly straight and near immaculately smooth, the finest ash wood she could find honed by her peerless expertise, splintered into nothing but toothpicks in a matter of moments. At the very least she could reuse the point, but with it firmly embedded in the brute and him showing no signs of cooperation, the huntress saw no way of recovering it without putting him down, and no single arrowhead was worth that much even if it was one of her better ones.

A sigh of exasperation hissed through her teeth as she bit back the urge to spew a stream of obscenities at him, knowing well just by the look in his eyes that he wasn't going to care. She really hated individuals like him, seemingly devoid of all emotion, unperturbed by anything, not pain, not pleasure, it was ridiculous. "A creature so unfeeling must live a terribly boring life." She said rather matter-of-factly as she casually tossed her knife in the air, the blade flipping end over end and landing handle in palm just as it had began. She did this several times as she met his gaze for a moment before snorting and shaking her head. "And since you're not going to answer, I'll spare myself further frustration and simply be on my way." Catching the knife one last time she slipped it back in its place on her hip quiver and pivoted upon one foot-paw to about-face and begin slowly strolling off in the direction the stag had retreated, hoping to track him down once more. "Enjoy the sepsis~"

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POSTED: Thu May 28, 2015 12:23 am

To his destruction of her tool he would receive nothing more than her antics again, this time as she played with a blade. The brute had expected the metal to drop straight to the earth in a novice fumble, as her attitude had quickly portrayed, though she would be granted little in the ways of his surprise or approval in her talents. To him, she was nothing but a youth actress, playing her part as an adult, for the sake of doing so. He'd leave that to whoever she had something to prove to, because as far as he was concerned, there wasn't a worth while thing in her blood.

Even though he had taken the majority of the shaft from its place, the wood still budded from his skin in the newly formed puncture it had caused. Muscle tremors had altered into swelling already, his whole flank ablaze with the pounding force of pain. Sights motioned to the injury once more, the life-fluid slowly seeping from him had reached down to his ankle and his pelt was beginning to stain outwardly. Attention drew again to her frame, and their eyes had met in the space between them. He could feel the tense fibers of his body heat up with the simple contact, but he wasn't much of a fool. If she could toss her slight knives about with fluid ease, he wouldn't tempt combat. He was fatigued of hunger, travel, and now injury. Even at his most infuriated, he knew there was nothing to win here. He'd long since lost his desire for meaningless tussles.

And it was just her way to retort again as she placed her metal in its previous lodging and sauntered off after HIS lost meal. Pressing against his instinct, he lowered hackle and brought guard to an all time low. One last chime was given from the girl as she moved away, and his better judgement had gotten the best of him. He hadn't seen much of Mercier, as the man often scouted ahead, and he was useless with his own hands against an injury like this. He wouldn't be inane enough to alter his form with an imbedded stone and seeking aid was no option of his. Before thought could offer any more reason not to, his lips parted as rippled frame planted itself firmly to the earth as a sign of his fortitude against her final agitation," Gather your belongings," Lost voice rumbled, broken and hoarse. He would be lucky for this wound to swell itself to halt blood loss, but infection wasn't a question, and to that she was right. He'd be able to figure the details with time, but time would be less with a foreign object within him.
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POSTED: Fri May 29, 2015 11:48 pm

keep screaming 'til they hear you out
[ 380 ]

Her gilded gaze dropped to the earth as she started off, the still sodden terrain from the spring floods a welcome receptor to the stimulus of beating hoofs, their imprints fresh and deep in the drowned grass and thick mud. The visual trail would be easy enough to follow and before long the scent of the stag would be strong again; she would have her kill before high moon at the latest.

With the sun still sinking slowly in the distance she couldn't help but admire the beauty of the forest at such an hour, the shadowplay of light and dark, sunbeam and tree shade, long shadows and shafts of shine, it was almost magical to behold. She could spend hours walking through the dappled glow but she had work to do, and still she longed for a good hearty meal to punctuate her effort in returning back to her prime.

However, before she could get too far from the brute, the greyscale creature dropped to the earth and uttered a simple yet surprising few words. His voice was gruff from lack of use and no doubt summoned from a parched throat, but he had yet to draw empathy, sympathy, or anything other than snark from the false goddess. Halting her locomotion she paused a moment with her back turned to him, waiting as if for another utterance from the brute, as if wondering if he was actually going to ask for help.

She knew better than that though, and making due with the fact that he said anything at all – even if it was just three words – the raven haired beaut about-faced and meandered back with a wily smile, pausing at the same distance she had before. "Finally come to your senses, gájikano?" She said with a hint of the foreign tongue she had picked up from her adopted family, golden eyes moving from his face to his wound. "It's going to hurt a lot to get that out, but it'll hurt a lot more losing that arm. Or worse~" She practically sang that last word – as if the idea of death was somehow amusing to her – and moved to pluck a few dry branches from a dying shrub, gathering some kindling for a fire to sterilize her blade.

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POSTED: Sun May 31, 2015 12:01 am

In her hesitation, he knew well what she sought, but he wasn't so lowly a creature that he would speak to what could be considered an opponent with any notion of what might seem a plea, or a favor. She would find this on her own, however, and returned to face him. As their distance grew shallow, muscles shivered with anticipation. Eyes were pressed against her. It wasn't often that a combatant could near him so easily, so simply, without their own agenda. A wound was only flesh deep. A warrior was a state of mind. He had to physically hold himself at bay, to which the beating of his flank aided in.

A grin came across her vanilla maw as she uttered the first phrase she had spoken that hadn't made the beast shiver in distaste. What ever it was she had called him, phased him naught. From what he had come to know of her already, he expected it to be some sort of name bent at youthful insult. His ignorance to it, however, would have to receive no reaction. Culture wasn't exactly his strong point, and rather make himself out as a fool, silence often paid more efficiently. Her feminine tune rose again, a little note at the finale portraying what seemed a joyful antic to the topic at hand. Again, he paid no heed. He'd felt more damaging injuries, easily seen painted across his hide, and had yet to fall to death from any one of them. Death was an easy escape. There wasn't a chance of such things granted to the monster. He had many things to repent for on this earth and though he made no effort toward it, his living was sure to continue as lady justice's call to suffer for his many, and increasing, crimes.

His attention had yet to move from her countenance, as her eyes had fallen to find his injury. Intense scrutiny had yet to ease even as she gathered small twigs from the foliage about," There is only pain for those who seek salvation," The chords in his throat strained, the depth of his voice falling to a rumbling hum followed by a dry swallow and the peeling of moisture robbed tongue from the surrounds of his jaws. The man had little, if any, education in the medical field or any field close to it, so what she would use twigs for was above him. It was his duty, however, to assure himself that she would keep to her intentions, and now allow a worse judgement pull her toward any form of violence. With her proximity, his instinct was prepared to kill or die trying, even in his attempt at civility.
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POSTED: Mon Jun 01, 2015 9:44 pm

keep screaming 'til they hear you out
[ 404 ]

Deft hands worked quickly to gather up some kindling and a few larger branches to start a small fire, the huntress picking and plucking from one shrub to another until she had enough of each type of twig and stick. With her collection in hand she meandered her way back to the wounded creature and slid her slender frame into a kneel a mere wolf's length away, using her free hand to brush away the damp moss, leaf litter, and other debris until she found bare ground. Upon this patch of earth she placed her kindling in the form of a little teepee of tiny twigs, leaving a small space in the middle to the build the flame.

"And you don't?" She said in response to his words, fiery eyes flickering up to offer him an indignant glance before returning her focus to her work. From the pocket upon her hip quiver she fished out her fire lighting supplies; a pinch of dry brittle straw, a sliver of flint, and a rather ornate piece of steel. Placing the straw under the little pyramid of twigs she leaned in and struck the flint and steel, sending a cascade of hungry sparks down upon the tinder, which lit up quickly and grew into a small flame. "Because everyone does, damned or not." A few puffs of air slipped from her sharp maw to aid the voracious little flare, which snaked up the twigs, rolling and coiling with each breath. As the flame grew she added more twigs and eventually the small branches until the fire was stable on its own, after which the last of her branch collection was placed to sustain it while she sterilized her blade.

The fire lighting supplies were returned to her quiver and in their place the knife from before returned, its long and well-kept blade held out over the young fire, which reached up and eagerly lapped at the black steel. She held it there for a moment, slowly turning the blade over and back again, making sure it heated up evenly and completely. The heat would sterilize the blade as well as help to cauterize the wound and stop the bleeding. It would leave a nasty scar, but by the looks of the brute he didn't care much for the way he looked. "Be still now, it's almost ready. Just a moment longer and we'll have that arrowhead out."

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POSTED: Tue Jun 02, 2015 12:04 am

His internal struggle was made definitively more transparent as she kneeled. The weight of his body shifted on his toes, the usually unseen motion caught off guard by the balance that been lost upon wounded flank. He lurched slightly forward as muscle gave way to the clutch of the arrowhead, and by this time, the woman had continued her task enough for the beast to allow himself to ease back on steady sat haunches. He was keen enough to know that bare earth and sprigs were the makings of a flame. What she were to do with that flame, he still hadn't the notion.

The sparks darted against the gloss of his eyes, and the glint of the growing flame caught tapering pupils, yet to leave her form. Miniscule black islands in stormy oceans of blue and gold found the glance that she had offered, only returning the gesture with a haughty rise of his chin and narrowed orbs. Her gaze was fleeting and she continued in her task without a second thought to what she had inquired. Those who question what they don't know, were often met with the startling truth of things. In his own youth, he had abruptly learned the lesson. Just before she breathed life into the nest, she continued. This creature before him must have lived quite the gilded fantasy for her to believe such a thing, "You are mistaken for what I am," His words were curt, the laconic statement was all he was willing to administer to his waning contributions to this frivolous conversation. She would have her piece soon, and he would be on his way thereafter. There wouldn't be more to this relationship after that, lest fate tempted his patience wit her.

As things were gathered up and her utensils were returned to their place, she brought out her blade once more. As it lingered above the flames, held in place by slender feminine hands, his eyes had broken their fast attention from her at last. The metal above the hot tendrils brought about inquisition that only echoed beneath the black-capped crown of the wounded warrior. It was only a moment that passed until his glare had reached her Cucurbita orange mask again, her tune lifting to reach him. Her words danced along the line of instruction and what could be confused with something comforting a nursemaid would allow her patient. Brows furrowed and he eyed her for a moment longer.

The best offer at stillness he could make while breath still undulated in his ribs was to lay upon the very earth near her built flame. The option was heavily debated within him, but he knew that he couldn't tempt lone survival at the expense of overworked injury. If she were to dig around inside a tense muscle, she'd do more damage than the idea of leaving that weapon where it was. Hulking mass shifted begrudgingly, hind legs collapsing to one side as one hip met the ground. Unable to truly control himself with the lacking effort of one appendage, healthy foreleg slid against the dirt and chest made contact with a hollow thud. The breaths he was taking became more labored as his own weight rested upon itself, and the spread of the sinew of his flank burned with the shifting of the blade veiled inside of it.

Were she a righteous creature, she had her chance now to impale the still breathing devil that walked this world.
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