(678) Meeee tooo because you and this thread are making me want to Draugrbabble lots. 8D
Draugr is by Libri!
Draugr herself preferred that prey which was swift and fleet-footed. Salsola's lambs and sheep were not for the likes of her to slaughter, even as a Confidant. The rabbits were not so bad, but even then, Dra would work for her food more often than she picked an easy meal. Though the wolfdog considered herself a proficient hunter, there was always room for improvement, and she was still perfecting the techniques she'd learned to hunt and chase and tired out her prey. And yet even she tended to challenge creatures less dangerous than pigs and goats, elk and strong moose -- the swift doe and agile wild rabbit were her usual quarry.
Dra nodded her agreement, but was too polite to point out that the crippled and lame, too, needed to eat. They were entitled to try their hand at whatever meager scrapings they could chase after -- and this was most certainly more noble than relying upon the charity of others. If they could not so much as hold a slave in thrall to hunt if they themselves were incapable, these cripples of the world deserved a fate of starvation, as Draugr saw it. She did not, of course, consider that she might be lamed or crippled in some distant future, or even worse, her mother, but the idea tickled at her subconscious all the same, perhaps to emerge some date months later in contemplation, should the subject arise again.
Her ears pricked at the mention of the north and those wild creatures found therein. She shook her head wonderingly, and could only imagine. She knew the northern lands only through song and story -- her memory denied her the place her mother was born entirely. I haven't, she admitted. I came to this land with my mother, and I have not traveled. This wasn't entirely true -- she was traveling right now, actually, but Draugr considered the areas where her pack was still within five or six days' ride less travel and more a merry jaunt around the territories. But I hunt. Swift prey, she said, lacking in any boastfulness. She was sharing her preference, although with consideration, she was not certain why she was sharing anything at all with a virtual stranger.
My horse's lead rope, she said, offered. Perhaps it would do? It was sturdily made, a remnant of the Boreas wolves' equipment. If she broke it, too, there were more within Salsola. I wouldn't take too much of your bounty, but I'd join you. Thank you, she said. There was politeness within her, too -- while Dra was now ranked Confidant, and might lord herself over those of Salsola, this was an outsider. Outsiders were meant to be derided -- except where they might prove worthy of the thistle kingdom. And, certainly, this earthen-hued woman looked to be woman enough for Draugr's homeland. If she did other things as well as she seemed to hunt, too, the Dra might even prove herself a recruiter. A thin tendril of excitement wormed through her chest, for she understood this to be extremely useful in the eyes of the leadership ranks.
Once she'd dismounted, the hybrid pulled the rope from within her things. It was neatly coiled, and she undid the knot keeping it together with deft fingers. Dyrne began to move away, but as the knot fell apart, Dra grabbed ahold of her halter and led her forward. The warhorse stopped a good few feet from the pig, refusing to approach any further. Dra let her go, and the horse backed up a few paces. Satisfied the chestnut mare wasn't going to bolt, Dra turned and offered the rope to the woman. Will you smoke the meat for later? she asked. Such was common practice within Salsola -- and she herself had several well-salted, well-smoked strips of dried meat in her pack. She had subsisted on this for much of her journeying, for it was wasteful to spend time hunting when the purpose of her journey was scavenging.
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