Clear the way for my crash landing

Liz

POSTED: Thu Nov 24, 2016 2:04 pm

Flaconry co-rank stuff. WC: 222


It was crude, but seemed stable enough to do the task that it was designed for. A vertical, large branch was embedded deep into the ground, with an equally solid horizontal one bound at the top, creating a landing spot and perch for the ever present vulture. Who now sat upon it, giving him the stink eye and generally acting displeased with the world around him; not that he blamed the poor creature. These lands were too damn cold and rained too much.

Every time he tried to get close, the vulture would snap his head around and glare at him, before returning to his bristling and cleaning himself. Little good it did the bird, for he still looked like a half dead beast. Reaching into the small bag, hooked to the belt around his waist, he plucked up a small bone with the smallest slither of meat on it, tossing it the bird he took flight, grasping it and circling around, before settling on his little perch, one talon lifting to bring it to his beak.

With food occupying him, he hoped it would allow him to approach. Stepping forward, he froze as the vultures head snapped up, a crunch accompanying the gesture as he consumed the last of the bone.

“Why are you treating me like I killed your mother?”

Art by Alaiaorax

Can't let go of the hatred, 'cause I love the way it tastes

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Kitty
Luperci This is my goat. His name is Satan. Born to savage pleasure

POSTED: Mon Dec 05, 2016 8:17 am

“Don’ go disappearin’ on me now!” Liz called out to the speckled wolfdog who ran ahead of her. Logan and Bram were growing at frightening speed now, and Eliza had finally agreed to let Logan – the more sensible of the two, though only slightly – come with her to feed the raptors. The golden eyed boy had put on a spurt of speed as they’d approached the Western Watchtower, but Eliza was expecting the stink of the well populated roost to slow him down a touch.

She heard the ruffling of feathers as Logan did exactly what she’d asked him not to – he rounded the corner of the tower cum roost and disappeared. Groaning, Liz strutted adjusted her pace to catch up. Though she was certain that the boys were large enough now not to be seen as prey by the hunting birds, she still disliked losing sight of her eldest son when they were close to the roost.

“Logan!” she barked, rounding the corner to see him in an apparent stand off with Petra the goshawk. The pup’s head turned towards his Ma and he took a step back as Petra’s wings extended. “I told ya the birds en’t for messin’ with!”

Shame faced, Logan stayed closer to Eliza after that. Food was doled out to the impatient birds; words were exchanged in broken high and low speech, something Liz had never mastered, and then the pair left the birds to their meal.

Scenting Thiago on the breeze and keen to see if he’d made any progress with the grumpy vulture, Liz altered the path they would take to return to the caribou fields. Her days were made up of a motley assortment of hoofed and winged creatures, but she wouldn’t have had it any other way; the caribou and the birds were treated more or less like her own kin, which meant they saw their fair share of shouting and bossiness from the Cormier dog.

This time she had to practically grab at Logan’s scruff to avoid the boy ploughing forward and startling the perching bird. “Go’n find yer Da,” she ordered, figuring she’d done her fair share of child minding for today. “B’fore yer eyes get pecked out.” Logan stalked off and Eliza turned to observe the less than happy vulture.

“Havin’ some trouble? Got somethin' fer ya,” she said to Thiago. From a pouch at her waist the dog withdrew a set of leather jesses. "These'll keep 'im in one place, might make things easier on ya."

[400+]

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Rat
Luperci Mate to Milos as one we are everything we need
MOTORMOUTH
Don't Stop Me Now

POSTED: Sun Dec 18, 2016 1:29 pm

Flaconry co-rank stuff. WC: 368


Blinking, he watched in silence as the pup rushed around, getting scolded by the vaguely familiar female, whose name escaped him – he'd never had a good memory for names and faces, primarily because he simply did not care to learn them, nor did he care about anyone outside of his family. Blood he could trust, blood he would give his loyalty and attention. Everyone else was just another face in the crowd to him.

She rummaged in a pouch tied to her waist, pulling free a leather contraction, the item finally jogging his memory as to where he'd seen her before, but not exactly revealing her name, if she'd even given it to him in the first place. Not that the lack of identification was a big deal – he had enough varied means to address someone, without using their name.

Taking the leather set from her, he lifted it up, unraveling it some and examining how it all fitted together. It was easy enough to see how it could attach to the vultures leg, a simple strap that would wrap around, a hole on either end where the ties can be threaded through, fastening it in place. Now it was just a simple case of being allowed to get close enough to attach it, without the vulture getting agitated.

“Thanks for these, what do you want in return? And eh, it's in a mood today. Probably just hungry,” he mused, tossing more food in the vultures direction, watching it for a second before handing over more food and stepping in close, all the while keeping a close eye on the birds body language, trying to determine the likelihood he'd end up with a broken or missing finger of the vulture caught one of his digits.

Slipping one around the vultures leg, he wormed the thread through the other hole and began slowly tightening it, eyes flicking between the bird and the work he was doing with the leather jesses. As the vulture began to look down at him, the food supply dwindling, he handed more over to the bird, tying off the cord and securing the first one in place, before moving to the next.

Art by Alaiaorax

Can't let go of the hatred, 'cause I love the way it tastes

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Kitty
Luperci This is my goat. His name is Satan. Born to savage pleasure

POSTED: Mon Dec 19, 2016 7:24 am

A name rarely escaped Eliza’s memory – and she remembered this male who had joined up with a sister, though she remembered the bird more. Truthfully, she had more interest in the bird, too – but as Navigator it was in her best interests to pay attention to those lower in the ranks. Though she would never lord her experience over anybody, Liz was always ready for an exchange of ideas.

Thiago accepted the jesses readily enough, looking them over and figuring out how they worked with remarkable speed. Perhaps he had seen or used a pair before, though his way with the vulture seemed considerably more laissez-faire than Liz’s own approach. While Eliza didn’t exactly do things by the book with her own birds, she had recently taken a more proper interest in falconry, since she was helping Willow to handle Bernie. She wasn’t surprised that others – particularly from other regions – had different ways of doing things.

She accepted the thanks with a brisk nod, her maple brown eyes on the displeased bird’s beady eyes as she considered what could be given in return. In truth, the jesses weren’t being put to any use elsewhere and it was for the pack’s benefit rather than Thiago’s that Liz had offered them, but still she was unlikely to pass up an opportunity to gain something in return.

“I’d make ya muck out the roost out in the Western watchtower but that might put ya off birds full stop.” She paused, grinning. “Just pitch in where ya can – there’s always stuff t’be done ‘round ‘ere.” Aside from falconry, Eliza had no idea of the Vela man’s interests, and therefore no clue as to what he might be able to give her of value – so she defaulted to suggesting helping the pack as a whole.

“Might need two hands – want me t’feed ‘im while ya fix ‘em on?” she offered.

[315]

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Rat
Luperci Mate to Milos as one we are everything we need
MOTORMOUTH
Don't Stop Me Now

POSTED: Tue Dec 20, 2016 7:22 pm

Flaconry co-rank stuff. WC: 526


Snatching the food offering up in her talons, the vulture brought the chunk of bone, with a few slithers of fur and meet still attached, up before her break, head stretching forward and pausing, before the bird finally began to pick it apart slowly, allowing for him to step in those last few inches to bring himself close enough to work – and bite. With fumbling fingers, the Vela male began to slowly ease the second one around her leg, muscles tensing as frustrating built. The Vulture was not going to cooperate this time around, even with the food to distract it. The task, which had seemed easy at the start, was significantly more complicated than the first one had been; with her strapped leg and respective talon holding and lifting the food, all of the vultures weight was upon the leg he was attempting to attach it to.

Mentally cursing the creature out, in every language and way he could think of, dark eyes narrowed as he took in a calming breath. Of course she... he, whatever gender it was, would choose now to pick at food, along with being temperamental to even the slightest of touches to its supporting leg. Everytime the leather strap brushed against the vulture, it would freeze, drawing the food back a fraction, head cocking to eye him, returning to eating only when he removed the contact.

Stepping back, he took a second to catch his breath and allow for the vulture to finish it's food and settle down some. Rarely did he handle the creature so much, so it was surely only being tetsy because it wanted some personal space, which was something he could relate – no one liked being poked, prodded and man handled against their own will. No longer within the birds immediate range, he turned to the female, recalling her prior words as he'd worked.

“Eh. It's bad enough I'm stuck with this thing. I fed it a few times, so it was there and haevn't gotten rid of it yet,” he knew nothing really about handling birds, stumbling his way through his dealings with the vulture. At the start the bird would simple stare dumbly at him, now they'd reached a point where hand gestures could be used to ask for things, with food freely given as bribery for good behaviour. In his mind, the bird was still wild – not a pet, never a pet and he would not name it, despite Reluceo's constant name suggestions.

“Sounds fair. And you mind?” shrugging, he reached into his small bag and offered the food he had for the bird to the female, before stepping in to the side of the bird, once more resuming the task of threading the leather strap around his leg, succeeding this time with a cooler head. Awkwardly, he shoved the thread through the hole, tightening the band before tying it off and stepping back, all the while he'd had his head down working, hoping for the best, unsure if the female had come forward to help or if he was going to get pecked at any second now.

Art by Alaiaorax

Can't let go of the hatred, 'cause I love the way it tastes

User avatar
Kitty
Luperci This is my goat. His name is Satan. Born to savage pleasure

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