fiver says you're wrong

POSTED: Sun Feb 24, 2019 12:06 am

OOC: backdated to a day or so before the gang reaches old Krokar! boy squad boy squad

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Dawn rose crisp, brittle as ice in their lungs. Someone was already awake when Malik crawled out from his sleep-spot beside Mondo's warm white flank, fuzzy haired and bleary eyed. The hearth had been stoked and the glowing coals were inviting him to sit by and warm his hands. Indulging in the heat that radiated from the little campfire, the bard crouched on his heels and rubbed his palms together until he could feel his fingers again.

It was still early. Blueblush hinted at a sun on the horizon, and the stars were fading pricks of light in the wide glazed sky. Grey clouds crawled in from the east, promising more snow or sleet in the hours to come. Wrinkling his nose at the sight of them, Mal shuddered and looped his patched scarf over his throat to protect it from the chill.

Somewhere in the camp Babs and Cookie were snoring. It would be another hour or so until her royal highness Adrianna deigned to rise and put on a pot of tea - the two rough boys and Cal would follow their noses shortly thereafter. It was unusual for the bard to be awake at this hour, but he'd had a troubled night of dreams, and couldn't quite get the stench of smoke out of his nostrils.

Besides, O'Brien was always the first to rise. It would be a good opportunity to have a friendly chat with him, Mal thought, trying hard to ignore the way the hearth made his cheeks feel overly hot.

The pickpocket was probably about to set out for his first hunt and foray of the day. Father had tried to impart his hunting prowess onto both of his sons, but Cal had been quicker on the uptake. Malik felt foolish for not having tried harder; He hadn't ever envisioned a scenario in which he wouldn't be in a big pack or town, with food readily available through less strenuous means. All that meant was that now was as good a time as any to learn - and who better to teach him than the man with the quickest shot among them?

Smiling at the thought, the bard shrugged on his coat and headed over to O'Brien's little corner to see if he could spot the man. Yawning wide, he was thinking sluggishly about the warm bed he'd left behind when his foot snagged on something - someone - and he tripped over Mateo, who had bundled himself up in so many furs that only his ears and nose were visible.
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Alaine
Luperci

POSTED: Sat Mar 02, 2019 1:26 am

Fingers wrapped around a slender wrist, and O'Brien gently pulled him back into balance.

His reflexes were quick for a predawn morning—but the hunter was indeed an early riser. Twilight was the best time to hunt rabbits, and he often took to four legs before leaving camp to scout out and chase his quarry. He'd been interrupted in this today, and looked a little disheveled for it; he'd tugged his tunic halfway off before spotting Malik and experiencing what had to be some form of premonition. His dark hair was tousled, his shirt settling back down over his midriff, his eyes a little wide as his mind caught up with his impulsive action.

Recognizing what had happened, the man grinned.

If ye wanted tae take 'im oot, ye cuid hae told me. Ah wid hae helped. He gestured to the prone, bundled-up Mateo as he joked about the lackluster assassination strategy. Then his eyes softened, and he let go, scrubbing fingers through his dark hair to sort it. Ye aw'right, mate?

He nudged Mateo lightly with his foot too, yawning. Ye tae.

I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory
I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory
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Raze
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here come the ravens

POSTED: Sun Mar 24, 2019 1:43 am

When the Troup began to rouse itself it seemed that Mateo was always the last to his feet. There was something comforting about the way he swaddled himself in his blankets as close to the fire as possible. He had the thin fur of a southerner, and though he was nowhere near as sensitive to the Norths temperature as his previous jackal companion Naji, he still was glad each night that he had brought so many layers with him for his journey.

The kick to his side brought him to consciousness sharply, and he groaned, bending in his sleeping form to clutch at his sore ribs. ”Ouch,” He managed before blinking open a violet eye to glare at Malik who towered over him. O’Brien was there too, the rich amber of his expression filled with mirth as he nudged the boy again with his toes. ”That’s rude you know. I do not want to be assassinated.” He couldn’t imagine that anyone wanted to be assassinated.

The frown he made was sleepy but good natured.

He unrolled himself and brought himself to a stand, his fur tousled with sleep. He pulled on his trousers and struggled to find a tunic amongst his mess.

”Where are we going?” He managed as he pulled his head through a proper shirt, ”Remind me not to fall asleep next to the fire.”


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Amanda
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POSTED: Fri Apr 12, 2019 11:55 pm

Word Count → ??? :: the boys the boys

For a dizzying moment, Mal watched the world go off its kilter. Just before he really bit it, there was a firm pressure at his wrist, tugging him back from the tilt.

Instead he was drawn back from that brink and into a much more distracting one.

It took the bard a moment to register that Obi had a hold of him, but after that he was wide awake. In all the barest glimmer of a second the young Amaranthe's wide eyes took in his disheveled savior. They came to rest on the ruffled rise of the man's tunic, sat some inches above the line of his travelling breeches. There was a small exposed patch of flat stomach there, soft with underbelly fur.

Mal blinked almost drunkenly, one eye shutting faster than the other.

He was too slow and unsettled to catch the joke, but had enough wherewithal to straighten up when O'Brien let go. Even though he hadn't fallen, the bard brushed at his undershirt as though to pat it clean. He needed something to do with his hands.

It took Mateo's sleepy interjection to wipe the dopey half-grin off his face.

"Sorry, I - Didn't see you, there, bud," Falling over the words, the bard shook his head to clear it. Inwardly cringing, Mal did his best to look chagrined. "Oh, no need to get up-" But it was too late, the damage was already done. Teo was hastily pulling on his clothing, much more alert than a man who just got rudely awoken aught to be. Even though it was his own fault, Mal felt a nasty pang of jealousy spear through him.

"We? We weren't going anywhere," His eyes darted nervously over the pickpocket and away, "I was just going to, uh... Rustle us up some breakfast!"

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Alaine
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POSTED: Sun Apr 28, 2019 3:28 am

trolololol

The thief's lips twitched in a smile as Mateo untangled himself from the blankets and stumbled to his feet and into his trousers. Malik protested, but lightly, and all O'Brien could do was laugh at the sleepy Onuban's eagerness.

"Aye, honestly surprised ye hevven't singed yer arse yet," the mongrel quipped, and dug his elbow gently into Malik's side to include him in the joke.

Mateo asked where they were all going, Malik fumbled, and O'Brien—ever oblivious, ever kindly—glanced at both his friends and wagged his tail. "We could a' gang if ye dinnae think you'd friten th' prey aff," he told the hound, then nudged Malik again, this time bumping his shoulder against the slender Amaranthe's. "Ah haven't seen ye in action yet," he added cheekily. It wasn't necessarily that O'Brien didn't have faith in his pals' hunting abilities, but he certainly went off that assumption while he hunted.

His brown eyes flicked to Malik's light blues. "Did ye hev a place in mind?"

I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory
I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory
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Pickpocket
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Raze
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here come the ravens

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