Melody Day

Backdated 12/15/12

POSTED: Wed Feb 13, 2013 3:58 am

000 OOC — Jeez, this is super long for me! Anyone's welcome, but somebody with knowledge of the clan ravens is preferable. This is before the recent promotion fest, so Dusk is still just a Tiro Bellum if that matters any. And sorry I never know how to end anything dfasjlfsdasds

Dusk had never been so aware of his body as he had this past week. The Optime groaned and stretched his arms wide, scrunching his face in a comical grimace. The soreness in his muscles still lingered like a nagging parent, but the thin gash on his left leg no longer threatened infection. He leaned from his sitting position to take a better look. It was quite long, spanning neatly from the outside of his hocks to the inside knuckles of his knobbly canine toes. Dusk ran a padded finger over the scab lightly, testing it, and it did not burn or break. Not bad for a little do-it-yourself doctoring, he thought, pleased.

His disastrous encounter with the mute coyote in the Northern Territories left him swollen, sore and bleeding; not only from the brutish bastard's savage beating, but the long, hazardous trek back to Inferni. An infection started in his leg, but as he was much too embarrassed to receive treatment at the D'Neville Mansion, Dusk took a detour at Sal Palus to cake the wound in stinging, salty mud. Looking at it now, it seemed to have worked.

He had taken up shelter on the outskirts of the Great Village for a night, avoiding clan members and uncomfortable questions alike. Peering out from a crack in the weathered shack's wall, he could see the sun beginning to break through the morning mist. The air was cool and humid from the village's proximity to the coastline, but it freshened him and made him feel alive. This was what he wished for as a pup, after all; freedom from the rules and constraints of his family, the opportunity to live how he pleased. Smiling in spite of himself, Dusk heaved his aching body (a pleasant ache, he decided) off the dirt floor and tiptoed silently into the daylight, back towards the marshy Sal Palus.

Nearly two hours later, Dusk had enough shellfish to make a meal. He dipped his arms in shallow tide pools to scrub the grime out of his fur and scooped up his catch, hugging the oysters and clams to his chest. He waded inland through the muck and tough grasses until he reached more solid ground, and surveyed the land about, sucking an oyster shell absently. Windswept hills continued to his right, pale and dead in the late winter's chill. Straight ahead of him and arching to his left were the black, spindly trees of Hallow's Ruins, rising out of the misty landscape like dark ghosts. The raucous call of ravens could be heard from within, and it was towards this sound that Dusk's calloused feet carried him.

A short way into the forest, he came upon a broad, obviously ancient tree stump. It was a huge, discolored, ugly thing, peppered with fungus and other strange growths, and its roots shot out from beneath it like the rays of some dying sun. He could feel many pairs of eyes on him, could hear the garbled cries of ravens and the disgruntled ruffling of their feathers as they puzzled over this plain-looking stranger. Perturbed by their stares but refusing to show it, Dusk laid his armful of shellfish out on the stump, took a clam in his hands, and cracked loudly it between his teeth.

Instantly he heard a frantic flurry of wingbeats as one of the great black birds seemed to materialize around his head. "Seafish! Seafish!" it screamed, smacking him repeatedly with its wings as it flapped about. Augh, what- Dusk flailed his arms in utter confusion, but that only seemed to excite the bird more. Most of the other ravens continued to gaze down at them, unamused, but a few were making noises that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

"'Yote gimme a seafish, no playinna game," the raven scolded, pecking his fingers until he dropped the clam. It bounced off the spongy ground and the raven flew immediately after it, muttering something like Thank, thank. Dusk stared at it incredulously, hissing through his teeth as he rubbed his freshly-pecked knuckles.

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POSTED: Wed Feb 13, 2013 9:40 am

515 wheee a chance to play myrika before all the babydrama? yes plz. myrika knows the history of the the ravens and some stuff from vesper but she not expert. hope that's okay. ;_; can assume they've met before if want, since dusk was NPC a whiles? or not! up to yous. c:


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The pale silvery coyote had been following her around incessantly the last few days. She didn't mind his company, but it was more than a little overwhelming to have run into him almost every day since they'd met. Yet Myrika did not dare neglect her duties -- she thought it might end with another rendezvous with Cirael, but it wasn't so bad. All they did was talk about books and sometimes dreams -- mostly his dreams, since she didn't really want to share hers.

After trekking about part of the borders and visiting the mansion, the tawny-hued coyote found herself trotting across the center of the territory, back toward the village -- and with no trailing coyotes after her heels, either. She wanted to make good use of her free time, and so, ducking to pick up a small, soft leather pouch, she collected several eggs from the chickens. She packed them carefully into the pouch, testing it a few times for stability as she packed.

When she left the schoolhouse, the tawny hybrid held the fragile bundle gingerly, cradled in both hands rather than simply grabbed at the top. She glanced toward it every now and then, but spent most of her time gawking at the earth before her feet, deathly afraid some object would trip her and send the whole clutch flying. Eggs were a delicacy to the ravens, and Myrika had been reminded of their importance recently when one brought her news of an approaching invader.

That invader had turned out to be a wanderer rather than an invader. Better than that, he had wanted to trade, and she'd gotten a rather good length of strong thread from him, apparently made of sinew. It would serve her well in her leather projects, and she'd only needed to give up a chicken. Though it wasn't exactly the ravens' doing that she'd gotten the sinew thread, the tawny hybrid thought it good service all the same. Such service deserved reward, and the ravens were members of Inferni as any.

As she approached the distinctive stand of trees, though, she heard a great din rising from the scraggly pines. Unwilling to run and risk smashing the eggs with a careless step, Myrika shuffled forward, one foot in front of the other, and ducked through the trees with the eggs clutched protectively against her chest. She found a coyote standing amongst the trees, the birds busily engaged in harassing him. Hey! she barked at the creatures. A few started and flew up, a few cawed loudly, but most ignored her and went right on laughing. Too smart for their own good, she complained.

What give? one of the birds asked, hopping over to her from the base of a tree. It peered at Myrika with black eyes, its small head cocked to one side. Whaaaaat? another asked, the word half a caw. A few more took up the cry, and Myri winced, half-regretting her decision to come out here as she gave a sympathetic look at the other coyote.

Myrika Tears

User avatar
Sie
Luperci Chaos Star And it always, at the end, came round to the same place again.
the gunslinger's lament
Rota Vitae
the mask & the marrow

POSTED: Wed Feb 13, 2013 10:27 am

482 Nevarrr fear, the falconer is here! She's in Optime, and she has Munin on her shoulder; I think that's the one you wanted for Dusk? ;3


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Tending to the ravens had become a duty for her as much as tending to the rest of the clan -- and it was a great relief after practicing with the new bow they'd traded from the reddish coywolf in Cercatori d'Arte. Asher seemed jealous of the finely-crafted thing and demanded she actually make use of it -- but her skinny arms could only handle the bow so well, and she ended up shoving the weapon at the collie mix. He seemed happy enough at that, and started practicing on his own (read: showing off) until she made the excuse of needing to check on her birds, glad to exchange the chattering of the archer for that of the ravens.

Vesper walked the familiar path to the dark grove the flock called home, only to smell the Aquila in the area as well. A smile settled on her lips, at least until she got close enough to the wooded area and heard the croaks and guffaws of the ravens; they were stirred up over something, though it didn't take a lot.

Hello, boy, came the greeting mutter from her own partner, Stark, as he perched on a branch above her head. He sounded exasperated, and she grinned.

Who do I need to save?

The pale tawny coywolf moved through the trees -- hearing some sections of cackling birds fall quiet at her presence. It almost made her feel like a leader twice over -- though some of the birds still cawed defiantly, and only those intelligent, starry-eyed juveniles really treated her like a god-boss more than a coyote who fed them more often. She saw her lover's richer tawny coat ahead, as well as the more charcoal shape of Dusk, a Tirones she'd met before after the hurricane but didn't know that well.

Vesper cried out -- a sharp and authoritative caw that had most of the ravens falling silent, and the one nipping at the clam -- Shoal, she thought -- panicking and trying to haul her catch off in her claws instead. She grinned like the arrogant fool she was, then extended an arm when she saw one of the elderly birds, Munin, sitting on a branch almost at level with her. He flapped with his slightly-crooked wing to her elbow, then climbed onto her shoulder, muttering Egg, into her ear.

If they're mean to you, you have to be mean back, Vesper remarked as she walked over to Myrika, greeting her with a nose to the cheek before grinning over at Dusk -- managing to overlook his wounds. Treat most of them like clever, flying coyotes instead of birds; it works better. She blinked when Munin squeezed her shoulder with his claws, and she glanced at Myri, her ear falling back and her smile happy and sheepish. Could you spare one of those chicken eggs, sweetheart?




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Raze
Luperci
tatter-winged phoenix
cunning linguist

POSTED: Wed Feb 20, 2013 10:07 pm

000 OOC — Yikes, sorry about the delay. This is dated December 15th of last year, so I'm assuming Myrika isn't showing yet. And yep, I was hoping Munin could be Dusk's grumpy bird dad, haha.

While the mist kept Dusk from seeing far, the trees were tall, thin and spaced apart. He saw a shadow approach through the gloom and, unable to identify the figure, he hovered about the stump self-consciously. The last thing he wanted was to look foolish in front of his peers, though it was probably too late for that. The few ravens that were edging close to him (looking for handouts, surely; all the lower animals thought of nothing but food) returned noisily to their perches. The one that attacked him continued to shove its greedy little face in his lunch. As he hurriedly brushed the dew from his belly fur, some of the ravens ruffled their feathers and called out to the newcomer. Judging by the sound of their harsh voices, it was someone familiar to them.

Myrika, Dusk cried in surprise. The tawny Inferni Aquila seemed to materialize out of the fog, sack of eggs in hand. Just my luck, he thought ruefully, trying his best to look in control and not completely embarrassed. He knew her only vaguely, seeing her here and there, helping where he could when the hurricane hit. She was kind, one could go as far as to say generously so, and he respected her as a leader. She gave him her polite sympathies, at which he could only chuckle darkly, Oh, I wouldn't say that. Unless by 'smart' you mean 'delicious when roasted over an open fire.' He glared at the one who stole his clam, only half joking. The bird was smaller than the others, young-looking, and it replied with an indignant squawk, its beak smeared with fishy oils. He glared harder.

A harsh, avian sound preceded Inferni's second-in-command. Her laughing blue eyes moved from Myrika to Dusk before her face broke in a broad grin. Hello, Vesper. Dusk grinned back stupidly and swallowed a scream. There was no way he could save himself now, not when both of them were here.

A rather weathered looking raven flapped awkwardly to Vesper's shoulder, muttering to her irritably. The both of you must come here often; the ravens seem to know you well, Dusk offered in an attempt to dissolve the tension of the situation. Tension, fortunately, that only he appeared to feel.

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POSTED: Thu Feb 21, 2013 6:12 am

385 Nope! None of that drama has even happened yet. Made me want this thread moooar. also ahah dusk's sig ♥


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The honey-colored hybrid grinned at Dusk's words -- though the threat hadn't done much to quiet the squawks and other calls from the severely off-key chorus. A word and even a few words were scrambled amongst the noise, but Myrika couldn't make out much of anything coherent amongst the din. Ravens were harder than horses to Myrika -- they were less domesticated, as the horses were, and more companions. They worked when they would and only some accepted commands -- from amongst the few that understood the canine language at all. Myri supposed she didn't have much room to speak: her primary experience with the birds centered primarily around providing them the occasional delicious snack. She did not work with them as some -- her head swiveled and she saw another approaching.

The noise that came from Vesper was more bird than coyote. Myrika grinned, tail wagging, and received the tawny woman's affection with a nuzzle of her own, though brief -- she supposed she'd always be awkward about such displays. The hybrid shook her head and looked at the bird perched on Vesper's shoulder, studying it as she remarked, I never knew a bunch of coyotes to get so riled up over a delayed dinner. The hybrid reached down into the pouch and carefully removed one of the eggs from the pouch. There was a cry from somewhere behind her, but none of the other birds made to swoop down and take the egg. Her attention turned to Dusk; Myri could only shrug. Ves comes here more than I do, but maybe they have something out for the leader. It was the only explanation she could come to; there was no reason any of the umber-colored birds should hold any special affinity for her.

Ravens eat better than we do, the hybrid remarked as she noticed the shellfish piled on the stump for the first time. She reached for the pouch again, removing another egg. Who's for it? she asked of the birds in the trees and on the ground. A few came forward, but more hung back, muttering and hunching their shoulders. Their eyes were for the shellfish Dusk had brought -- a rarer treat, since eggs were easy to grab on the way out of the Village.

Myrika Tears

User avatar
Sie
Luperci Chaos Star And it always, at the end, came round to the same place again.
the gunslinger's lament
Rota Vitae
the mask & the marrow

POSTED: Fri Mar 01, 2013 10:08 pm

309 I sorry for delay and the fact that this is a POO-POO POST :C


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The timber-pelted coyote grinned back at her, and Myrika returned her nuzzle. The Centurion could not help but let her tail wag briefly; this was her place, with the ravens and her canine clan mates. Her good mood was obvious even as she relaxed, her tail dropping to the backs of her thighs and her hand coming up to touch the old raven's chest feathers briefly, giving them the lightest of strokes before Myri spoke.

Okay, very childish coyotes, Vesper conceded, and smirked again as she shrugged. The point is that they're clever, and they're not above bullying or insulting you or using teamwork to get what they want. It's what's great and horrible about them. There was an obvious spot of pride in her voice, pride that turned into brief arrogance as her grin grew a little bit more smug at Dusk's question.

I'm the Falconer, the pale coyote explained. Or -- ravener would be a better term. I've come here often, learned their tongue, trained some of them, more-or-less made friends with others. Others are still stupid gits who won't obey you no matter what, of course. She could make all the claims she wanted to the ravens and their prowess -- but it really all just came down to the pact made long ago between the Infernians and the birds. Ves only smoothed things along; it was the clan that really supported the flock, and Myrika remarked on one of the benefits the birds got for it. Ves grinned sheepishly.

The Aquila held an egg, and Munin muttered again before Vesper indicated him with a gesture. She took the egg carefully from Myrika and held her palm out; Munin began to jab at the thing with his beak, soon devouring the yolk inside it. This is Munin, she introduced. He's one of the more polite ones.




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Raze
Luperci
tatter-winged phoenix
cunning linguist

POSTED: Sun Mar 10, 2013 4:37 am

000 OOC — It's cool dude I am seriously awful at whipping up nice speedy replies! Have a super late BABY-POO POST

The prickled hairs running down his back flattened from their tense position. Dusk rolled his shoulders, unaware that he was mirroring the feathered beasts in the trees above as they relaxed and went about their business. Other people were much easier to be around once he started talking to them. Initiating contact was the most difficult part, oddly enough. His eyes followed the chicken's egg from Myrika's hand to Vesper's, and the latter introduced him to the raven, Munin, 'one of the more polite ones.'

Is that right, Dusk said absently. His attention was on the raven, its beady eyes narrowed on the egg, its beak, scuffed and worn with age, rapping at the shell. Its feet grasped it, black on white, so eerily like hands. Strange things, these animals were. Dusk leaned back on the stump and rested the heels of his palms on its edge. He looked down his nose at the dusty creature on Vesper's arm, appraising it. It looks old. How long do ravens live?

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POSTED: Tue Mar 12, 2013 12:38 am

-- Sorry for the delay and quiet Myriii. ._.


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In truth, Myrika's knowledge of the ravens was primarily historical. She could have told Dusk all about how the pact between Marlowe and Kaena was first formed, and how Gabriel and Ezekiel before Myri had strengthened this alliance -- but she could not speak to the birds themselves. She knew them not, and knew their behavior even less than she knew names. It was to Vesper she looked, and listened, as the scarred woman explained about the birds. The Aquila paid rapt attention, figuring there was no better time than the present to brush up on her knowledge of the clan's closest allies.

She did not altogether forget the eggs, though -- the squawking calls of the few birds who had come forward to receive this as their meal reminded her sharply. Kneeling down, the tawny woman offered one up to a group of three birds. She rolled it gently toward them, not wishing to get her fingers too close to the sharp, snapping beaks. She repeated this a few times, until she'd nearly run out of eggs. She stood back up, glancing toward Vesper for an answer; she couldn't say just how long the birds tended to live. Their lives must surely be shorter than that of the Luperci.

Myrika Tears

User avatar
Sie
Luperci Chaos Star And it always, at the end, came round to the same place again.
the gunslinger's lament
Rota Vitae
the mask & the marrow

POSTED: Tue Mar 19, 2013 10:57 am

-- v_v *joins the short-post party*


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Myrika crouched and began to roll eggs out to the birds -- and Vesper found herself feeling guilty, hoping that her mate had indeed brough the eggs for that reason. She knew that the ravens could be bullies, though those more intelligent youths that knew their Falconer knew the Aquila was well, at least in words and the admiration in Ves' voice. Dusk, on the other hand, was likely fair game.

Dusk remarked that Munin looked old, and the dark elder glanced quickly at the coyote with beady, intelligent eyes. Long time, chick, the bird croaked reprovingly, and Vesper tried not to smile.

I'm not entirely sure, the coywolf admitted. But I think that it's as long as us -- especially since we take care of and protect them. The lifespan of other animals could be surprising; she'd heard someone claim horses lived twice as long as coyotes did, something that went against her belief that all prey were short-lived. I guess I don't know everything, though, even if my raven Stark taught me just about everything about them. She looked up into the trees. He's a bit old too, she joked, but couldn't find her partner among the rest of the flock.




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Raze
Luperci
tatter-winged phoenix
cunning linguist

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