10-20-2009, 10:30 PM
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Snake new that many wolves—and some coyotes, even—were naturally geared towards loners. While coyotes grouping up together and living in “packs” was generally a newer phenomenon (as coyotes are naturally solitary, or travel in pairs), it had been the staple of the wolves’ success for hundreds of years. To those that are born in the same pack that they will die in, a lone wolf is a frightening thing. They speak of a life that the pack-born wolf would never know—one of a haunting loneliness and yet the most resounding sense of freedom that the wild can manufacture. Snake remembered Patriot speaking harshly on lone wolves. He called them vagrants—when he didn’t call them filth. For a Luperci who believed in power in numbers, as Patriot had been, one who stands alone and with his own power was a frightening thing. That was one of Patriot’s flaws.
The coyote didn’t know what had caused Daisuke to yelp and whimper in pain, but he assumed it was something like stepping on something sharp. He looked over with vague concern for his companion, but discerned that it was nothing after a moment. Inferni was a dangerous milieu, and if it wasn’t the inhabitants that you had to worry about, sometimes it was the landscape itself.
Which brought them to their current quest. As both of the boys had now gathered decent enough sticks to use for staffs or pikes or whatever, they needed to find some skulls. While the thought of scavenging a meal from a waterlogged deer was somewhat revolting to Snake, his growling stomach couldn’t ignore the thought. He kept up as best as he could with Daisuke, but the coyote was built for power, not for speed. He lagged behind somewhat, but, in the end, they both managed to get to the low country on the borders of Inferni and Arachnea’s Revenge. The trees here were partially flooded, giving it the appearance of a swamp. Immediately Snake was met with the smell of death—that sickly-sweet scent of decay. His face screwed up slightly, and he looked to Daisuke. Something in his olive glance seemed to say that this was the place.
“This way,” he murmured, his keen nose triangulating where the strangely alluring scent was coming from. He navigated through trees and undergrowth, travelling the higher path where the water was not so deep. He knew that going in willy-nilly would probably spell death for them as well. The loam and dirt that had once made up the forest floor was now mud that would suck one down to the depths. Which was probably what added to the fates of the two deer that he came across after a moment’s looking.
His cold olive eyes looked over the scene and, if one looked really closely, you could almost see a glint of remorse in his flat gaze. It was a mother doe and her fawn. The mother looked as though she had gotten caught in the deeper part of the pool in front of them during the rain, and had drowned. The fawn, not knowing what to do, got stuck in the mud closer to the bank and had struggled until it fell, exhausted, and asphyxiated due to the water and mud. It even pricked unfamiliarly at Snake’s metal heart. He looked back to Daisuke, his face expressionless.
Snake new that many wolves—and some coyotes, even—were naturally geared towards loners. While coyotes grouping up together and living in “packs” was generally a newer phenomenon (as coyotes are naturally solitary, or travel in pairs), it had been the staple of the wolves’ success for hundreds of years. To those that are born in the same pack that they will die in, a lone wolf is a frightening thing. They speak of a life that the pack-born wolf would never know—one of a haunting loneliness and yet the most resounding sense of freedom that the wild can manufacture. Snake remembered Patriot speaking harshly on lone wolves. He called them vagrants—when he didn’t call them filth. For a Luperci who believed in power in numbers, as Patriot had been, one who stands alone and with his own power was a frightening thing. That was one of Patriot’s flaws.
The coyote didn’t know what had caused Daisuke to yelp and whimper in pain, but he assumed it was something like stepping on something sharp. He looked over with vague concern for his companion, but discerned that it was nothing after a moment. Inferni was a dangerous milieu, and if it wasn’t the inhabitants that you had to worry about, sometimes it was the landscape itself.
Which brought them to their current quest. As both of the boys had now gathered decent enough sticks to use for staffs or pikes or whatever, they needed to find some skulls. While the thought of scavenging a meal from a waterlogged deer was somewhat revolting to Snake, his growling stomach couldn’t ignore the thought. He kept up as best as he could with Daisuke, but the coyote was built for power, not for speed. He lagged behind somewhat, but, in the end, they both managed to get to the low country on the borders of Inferni and Arachnea’s Revenge. The trees here were partially flooded, giving it the appearance of a swamp. Immediately Snake was met with the smell of death—that sickly-sweet scent of decay. His face screwed up slightly, and he looked to Daisuke. Something in his olive glance seemed to say that this was the place.
“This way,” he murmured, his keen nose triangulating where the strangely alluring scent was coming from. He navigated through trees and undergrowth, travelling the higher path where the water was not so deep. He knew that going in willy-nilly would probably spell death for them as well. The loam and dirt that had once made up the forest floor was now mud that would suck one down to the depths. Which was probably what added to the fates of the two deer that he came across after a moment’s looking.
His cold olive eyes looked over the scene and, if one looked really closely, you could almost see a glint of remorse in his flat gaze. It was a mother doe and her fawn. The mother looked as though she had gotten caught in the deeper part of the pool in front of them during the rain, and had drowned. The fawn, not knowing what to do, got stuck in the mud closer to the bank and had struggled until it fell, exhausted, and asphyxiated due to the water and mud. It even pricked unfamiliarly at Snake’s metal heart. He looked back to Daisuke, his face expressionless.
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