Clutz Extraordinaire

Saraqael · 01-09-2011, 12:21 PM

OOC: Word Count: 1271. Sorry for the wait/length, but yay! Thread times! ^_^

IC:
It encroached slowly, stealthily, shifting forward at a sloth's pace in an attempt to take her over without her noticing at all. First, flecks of translucent crystal gave the dirt a shiny, watery appearance but melted away within seconds. Then they arrived en masse, storming so quickly that they began to cramp in together, to touch one another and stick to each others' sides. They became whiter and whiter as the group grew, until finally, a solid patch of snow had formed. It spread like a fungus, stretching out its icy mycelium in all directions, attaching itself to smaller bodies of the same stuff to devour and assimilate them. In the first light of dawn they showed midnight but soon took the brilliant orange of the sun and became saturated with it as it crested the horizon, bleeding through the trees. With its new face fiercely cast, it made for its final attack, pushing straight towards Saraqael's pale and sensitive nose with its burning red harshness. Pink and wet, her sniffer glistened in the ruddy glow of morning. All it took was a single errant flake. Her breath sucked it in and it stuck to the inside of her nasal cavity. Immediately, her eyes shot open, brain yelling fitfully, “COLD, WET.” Vision was difficult with her, at first fuzzy and nondescript, and then clarity came all at once. What she saw made her groan in frustration. Indeed, the snow had come for her in the last hours of night, slowly slipping through the place in the pine branches that did not catch it. Whispering through that pathway, it had accumulated for hours, chasing her face. Now, awake, she took advantage of her god-like powers. With a single hand, she scooped up the nearest chunk of crusted white stuff and flung it a few feet away. It landed with a wet, slushy smack, safely out of her warm, dry zone. The coyote rolled over in her tomb.

It had taken her an hour and a half to wear a body sized hole in the snow. The spot had been chosen because it was beneath a natural overhang of low pine branches whose bottle brush stiffness and long fronds could block, even carry, the snow. She dug ferociously with hands and claws, reaching the bottom several inches down, a depth much shallower thanks to the same piny cover. Then she had built up the sides of the wilderness bed, packing hard ice eight inches high in a circle around her. She did it to cut down the wind, mostly, but also as a pathetic deterrent to anything that was not a canine to come sniffing. Now that she was traveling, sleep was of the utmost importance, especially if she wanted to make it to her next destination. But where would that be? Saraqael did not know the lands very well at all, being essentially fresh out of the surrounding area. It was her secret hope that there was another pack closer to Phoenix Valley than it had been to Inferni, but the ghost girl was careful not to get her hopes up. Instead, she planned for a lot of walking, which meant as much sleeping as she could handle, and that was why she had thrown the pesky, irritating, always sneaky snow. The crack of dawn was simply too soon. Primarily a nocturnal creature, what kept her on her diurnal schedule was the likelihood of finding people to aid her (which seemed more plausible during the day), ease of vision, warmth of temperature, and increased chance of being greeted kindly instead of being killed on the spot. Snooping around scent markers in a strange land sounded idiotic, especially for a lone coyote. And who knew? With her large ears and petite frame, she might have been mistaken for the mother of all snowshoe hares but with weirder markings and prettier eyes, especially if she tucked her tail. Even if her pursuer discovered her coyote nature, she was not necessarily convinced they would call off their hunt. Saraqael sighed again and turned her head to the left, frustrated. Only the day before she had scolded herself for having so little faith in wolven kind. It was exhausting and disturbing. As her eyes refocused, she saw that beneath the pine across, coal tipped ears twitched. The fuzzy body was barely distinguishable amongst all the white, but there it was: a snowshoe hare. She wondered if it had read her thoughts and presented itself to taunt her. The girl was reluctant to hunt so close to pack territory. That, and she had just woken up. The real clincher was her form. Saraqael never bothered to give chase to anything unless she had the smooth gracefulness of her petite Lupus body to get her skills up to par.

First she had been ambushed by creeping snow. Now the universe was waving a tasty morsel in her face, she she could do nothing. Not only was it tasty – she imagined its deep, purpley red flesh with its strong, almost vague metallic taste – but it was useful as well. Hare skins in winter phase were most easily dyed, obviously because they were white. They were also small which made them easy to pack. But she had none of her tools with her, only a single knife, and no place to dry the skin. She had not considered all her lost opportunities for furthering her trade when she first set foot outside of the mansion, determined to touch foreign soil and greet strange, new, wolf faces. The specter gave a final groan and sat up. Her stomach muscles clenched with the effort of raising her body but had the pleasant effect of sending blood to her midsection to warm her organs. That was good because the chill was beginning to seep past her pelt, sending unpleasant shivers rolling up and down her spine. Had she been shaved, she could have watched her pores pucker with the pricks of goosebumps. Instinctively, she reached for her pack, checking to make sure it was still where she had left it at the far head of her sleeping place. Pulling it in front of her, she saw that its surface was dewy with snow melt but seemed otherwise undamaged. Shoving a slim hand inside its top flap, she checked for offending moisture and found none. At least something had turned out right between last night and the day.

Clumsily, she stretched her arms and legs, the former straight up to crash into the fragrant pine and the latter harmlessly outward. That was a mistake. A huge glob of hard, milky water sloshed down onto her pretty, deserving head. The girl screeched, in anger rather than fear because she knew what was going to happen the second both of their limbs collided. It was almost more than she could handle, and all she could do to keep from throwing a sulky fit. The wet, cold stuff dribbled down onto her shoulders and chest. When it made its way to her stomach, she shook hard, sending half-melted droplets flying away from her in all directions. She decided she was thoroughly done with that particular place. Snatching her pack rather roughly, she scootched out from beneath the shadowed protection of tree limbs and stood in the foot of her dirt bed. The breeze was cooler than she had noticed before, thanks to her clever snow fort idea. It did not deter her from travel. The border to Phoenix Valley was in sight, so she made her way toward it, hoping to be found quickly.

Rendall · 01-09-2011, 03:24 PM

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lol its fine, i dont mind long posts, i hope you dont mind either o.O lol i needed to catch up on SSWM so most of my posts will be like this. Word count: 1068

Rendall shivered in the morning chill. She groaned and squinted her eyes open to see her windows coated with frost. “Brilliant…” She mumbled under her breath has she moved the fur blankets from her body and shrinked her legs up to her chest from the sudden cold. Without the warm blankets the chilly air bit at her nose and seeped down beneath her thick coat. Ren stretched and tried to shake the cold loose from her skin. The cold pursued and she found herself getting up to build a fire. She looked at the wood bucket and glared angrily at it. No wood. She would have to go out and get some. The cabin had been serving very well since she had remodeled it in the fall. Ren looked out the windows to see that the sun had not risen yet, and her fire from the night before had died down. She placed her feet on the floor and shot them back up to the bed. “Ack! Cold cold cold cold.” Her feet were placed back down and she ran threw her house to the back near the wood shed. She grabbed her cloak and wrapped it quickly around her body getting ready to run up the trail to the wood shed.

Rendall opened the door and cursed. The blustery wind blew snow into her face. She wrapped the cloak tighter and ran out towards the shed. The snow bit at her pads and she ran as quickly as she could towards the direction she thought was the stupid small building. Ren hit an ice patch and slipped down, hitting her face on the wooden frame. Dizzy and angered she gained her bearings and opened the flimsy door. Ren walked into the small warm shed, grabbed many pieces of aspen and a piece of apple wood to last through out the day. She opened the door and slipped her way back down to the house. In a few hours she had a good fire going and lunch slowly simmering on the stove. Her breakfast consisted of warm bread and left over meat from the night before. Rendall patted her white belly and sighed with contentment as she sipped on her tea. The sun had risen and the rays shined through her windows, warming the cabin even more. Her deep blue eyes looked outside to check on the weather. The wind had died down and she nodded approvingly as she reached for the thicker rabbit fur cloak on her bed-side table.

She slowly checked here and there for improvements that the winter cloak would need. She looked at the spots where more fur was needed “Just three more.” Ren finally set about getting ready to go out into the snow. She packed up some rations in her small pack and an extra blanket. It was thin but it would be good in case she needed extra protection against the snow. She packed her arrows and strapped her bow to her back. Finally Rendall set out into the early morning powder. She worked her way past the firefly fields and the ranch into the forest and up the ridge. Into a small field where she knew the rabbits were plenty. She set up a spot near a shallow overhang in the trees and hunched low keeping her unusually colored eyes looking out for any sign of movement. She kept her body still and her breath low. Her hard work paid off when she saw a bit of movement near a tree. The little white bunny was munching happily away at a root. Rendall observed its size and movements for a little while before finally deciding it just wasn’t big enough to do any good for her. “Perhaps next year for you little one.” She scooped up a little snow and gently tossed it near the fluffy thing. Making it run for its life to the nearest bolt hole.

The wolfess laughed under her breath and continued to watch out for more of the swift little things. Ren continued to watch for any sign before her eyes grew heavy and she slowly let her head drop. Sleep came easy for her when she was out in the wilderness. The blanket provided a nice barrier between her and the freezing snow packed ice. Her cloak covered her body, allowing her to not be disturbed by the birds above. She snored lightly and curled her body up into a ball. Keeping the chill away from her stomach. A few finches above her finally realized her presence and protested about it. She ignored them and continued to sleep lightly throughout the morning. A sudden movement near her though roused the woman from her sleep and she slowly peeked up above her barrier, looking in hopes of a hair.

Her eyes searched around and finally rested on a large hair just feet away from her. Its fluffy white fur gave its presence away. Ren reached for her bow so slowly that it seemed as if she was barely moving at all. She then straightened out her body, laying in a perfect line. Her eyes held a determined gaze as she drew one of her arrows back, the grey feathers tickled her cheek, and in one moments breath she released it, watching as the hair realized too late that it was being hunted. The arrow moved swiftly, pinning the hair to the tree behind it. She cheered quietly and got up to retrieve her catch. About half way there more movement caught her eye. Within seconds she had her bow at the ready and another arrow preparing to be fired. Ren kept her gaze steady, before another pair of large ears caught her eyes. Ren thought to herself a moment, debating on weather she should fire or wait. These ears looked different then the hairs and there was only one thing she knew that had ears like that. “Coyote..” She whispered and moved closer, keeping her bow at the ready in case the canine wanted to rumble. Ren finally got close enough to see the child. Rendall immediately lowered her bow and observed the child. She looked to be traveling and very cold. “Are you alright? What is a girl like you doing way out here?” She approached the girl slowly, removing her cloak and placing it in her arms. Hoping not to frighten the girl.

Saraqael · 01-11-2011, 01:00 AM

OOC: Nope! Smile

Word Count: 1260.

IC:
A dark shadow manifested itself in her peripheral. Turning to face it head on, anticipating that it was a new person come to meet her, the small creature shifted her body only to have fear strike her straight in the heart. All that registered was a pointed spearhead attached to a stem ended in fletching, cradled in the tension of a bow. The lady might as well have shot the damn arrow that was knocked in her curving weapon. What Saraqael saw was a wolf with killing device, and she was pointing it straight at her tiny chassis. Her first instinct was to run, but that was wrong – that was what prey animals did, and they got fucking shot. Instead she fell flat on her back, falling away from the female archer. The hand clutching the lid of her pack closed released, dropping her valuables in a mangled heap. Snow puffed up from the ground in hazy clouds around her twiggy bodice. Then she rolled, ducking behind the cover of trees and then propelled herself up onto her feet, loping in a wild, evasive zig zag maneuver. Her mind was a perfect blank. She left everything having to do with anything important to the command of her body and guts, banking on their guidance to keep her alive, to keep her skin from becoming someone's pretty coat, to keep her skull from decorating a wolven mantle. Noah had been a kind soul, sure, but his genial demeanor could not be attributed to every member of his pack. Even if he tried to attest to that, the coyote was far too suspicious to ever believe otherwise. She would have run until her lungs were ragged, shredded from breathing in too much cold air too fast before relying on such vague hope. The voice trailing behind her stopped her in her speedy tracks. Laced with genuine concern, there was no way the woman had her weapon at the ready anymore. It sounded impossible that she intended her death. The question that followed, directed at her, seemed far away, but the two-toned fae had barely made it one hundred feet in the opposite direction. Stopping short in the whiteness, she dared to turn back, her hunched over form slowly sprouting upward to take advantage of her meager height.

“Idiotic” was not an appropriate enough word to describe how she had handled that situation but there was also a part of the ghostly coward that was grateful to her insane sense of danger. Precautionary? Yes. Had she over reacted? Most certainly, but in the event that the coal female had been serious, she might have lived, even if she had bent out of the way so that the arrow pierced only flesh and muscle. No arrow had been shot, no blood shed, and the previously terrifying huntress was merely curious about her presence so near her pack lands. Reasonably, she wanted to know what a small, pathetic thing like her was doing wandering out in the wintry landscape, sleeping under trees and lusting impotently after hares. Slowly she made her way back in an unwavering line, cutting a straight path back to where she had come from. Scorching embarrassment burned her flesh, heating her cheeks and chest to an unbearable hotness. If she had not been covered in such a luxurious pelt, her skin would have been stained as red as pomegranate juice on white fabric. To the Valley wolf, she must have looked foolish and crazy, both of which were at least partially true. She had thought of running away but where would she have gone without directions? In addition she dropped her pack back at the scene of the incident. Inside were important valuables including dyed fur pieces, an irreplaceable bone knife made by her father, and an assortment of odds and ends that she would have preferred in the extreme not to have to abandon to the elements, or to lose to scavengers who would later make money off of her artfully made wares.

Approaching the femme, what she saw confused her. In the sunlight, the fur of the other was a smoky, dark blue-gray, a strange color, clearly not dyed, she did not think, unless someone helped her maintain it on her back and face in such a specific pattern. Being a dyer by trade, she had an eye for the tell tale signs of a fabricated fur appearance, even on very impressive projects, but here there were none. Much akin to Saraqael herself, she had been born with a uniquely hued pelt. She was pleased by the fact that the beast she thought would bring her death had socks just like her but inverse, white where hers were deepest black. A cloak covered her one of her thighs, an interesting choice of wardrobe for some, but it seemed natural for the leucistic creature who almost exclusively wore clothing on her limbs in nearly the same fashion except with brighter colors. The expression she wore was open and vaguely concerned, causing a needle of guilt to prick into her chest. Not only had she fled, but she had tried to escape from someone who only had her best interests in mind, and was probably mildly concerned with her safety.

Standing before the other, Saraqael made herself into the epitome of repentance. It began with the simplest gesture of her flattened ears, both fuzzy pyramids of plainest white gluing themselves to her skull, an impressive feat considering their massive size. She cast her eyes toward the glittering carpet beneath both of them, unable to look her greeter in the face. Perfect rounds of twilight Caribbean and palest periwinkle attempted to find anything else to attend to. The claws on her pretty bleached toes were nice, but too close to the rest of the towering blue woman. After passing up several qualified candidates for distraction, she finally settled upon the crackled texture of a reedy pine tree. Its bark stole her thought and cleared her mind enough to allow words to flow, and they did, softly at first, conveying clearly her overwhelming sense of shame at her outlandish behavior. “I'm very sorry about that. All I saw was the tip of your arrow and I reacted immediately.” It was the truth, though she was careful to leave out the part about her having been a wolf. Frankly, it had a lot to do with it. She could not shake the feeling that they were hunting her everywhere she went in spite of friendly faces and gentle intentions. “My name is Saraqael Destroying Angel Kanga. I hail from Inferni.” She hoped that the title of her home would not give the Phoenix Valley wolf cause to knock another arrow. Her nerves were so frazzled that she knew she could not have been guaranteed a similarly brisk response. If challenged a second time with the bow, she would fall.

Nervous, afraid, and feeling small and skittish, she unconsciously began to dig her toes into the snow, taking comfort in the chill that slithered up into the webbing between her paws. Eventually her ears fell back to their natural upright position, shockingly gawky and fare more like a hare's than was attractive. Balancing their largeness were her fine pointed features, all of which were pursed in sadness, guilt, and most prominently, fear. She was such an unforgivably stupid girl. Every day she was surprised when she woke up alive, and every night she was grateful she had lived for so long.

Rendall · 01-15-2011, 12:52 AM

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I'm so sorry this took so long T.T busy school week, icky short post XP word count: 565

Rendall watched the child run zigzag-like motion for a moment with a suprised look on her face "Oops...well at least she knows how to avoid an arrow." She mumbled to herself and then smiled as sshe saw the coyote girl return to where she was. Ren had begun to gather up the things that the girl had dfropped from her bag and placed it back into her little pack. She took a moment to observe the girls well-crafted knife, she admired it before placing it back into the child's pack. Finally after all the things were where they should be she gently handed the pack back over the the small canine, hoping the girl didnt feel uncomfortable about Ren handling her things, the wolfess was never a thief, she felt too "noble" to do such things, so there was nothing for the girl to worry about.

Rendall observed the little coyote furhter, making sure she didnt have any injuries or anything that would be cause for alarm. When the woman was satisfied with the lack of anything she found she turned her attention to the childs reason for being out here in the first place."Hello Saraqael, I am Rendall, Dont be worried about that, its good that you can react to potential danger so quickly." The womans ears perked up her ears at the sound of the Inferni pack. She had a small but good history with the pack, unlike some of her very few comrads. She even remembered when she met with Kaena Lykoi, though the leader was tough she should great kindness with for the girl when she was young as well. It would be rude for the woman not to show the same kindness to the child now. Rendall smiled "I know your pack well Saraqael. Your leader showed much kindess to me on my visit there. I am no enemy to you much less anyone to your pack."

Ren noticed the girls coat, it wasnt normal for a coyote to have such pretty white fur, then again it wasnt normal for a wolf to have black hair that turned blue either. And the girls beautiful eyes made an excellent match to her coat. Ren took a small step further, and into the sunlight, she cringed a moment, hoping the girl wouldnt be frightened of her unnatural apearance, as the sunlight made her blue highlights glow against the snow. Only then did Ren realize something, the sun was getting later into the sky as she sat here talking to the girl. Her face grew serious. Only a few more hours and it would be night. She turned back and saw the girl had nothing to keep her from the cold "Here, I know my next question is going to sound strange seeing that we've only met, but, its cold out here little one, and from the looks of you your have-starved and your cold." she wrapped the cloak around the child and tied ait around her neck. "There, a little big but it'll do. now, please dont feel like i'm trying to steal you away, but would you like to come back to my cabin? Its not far away from here and its nice and warm. You can stay for as long as you like and when your ready I'll escort you either home or to your next destination. Sound good?"

Saraqael · 01-15-2011, 11:46 PM

OOC: Word Count: 1333. No worries. Big Grin

IC:
Saraqael was uncomfortable, all right. The girl expected the worst at every turn and was incredibly suspicious that her items were not all intact. However, it was too awkward to say anything or to peer into the bag to check. Even she was bound by the idea of social repercussions in some cases, especially when so stunned. Adrenaline pumped through her fiercely, leaving her limbs tingly and her thoughts disconnected feeling. In concern for her items, the only thing she did do was peer around at the ground, ensuring that whatever the lady had repacked or stolen accounted for everything. Snow officially bare of her possessions, the black-masked femme listened as the cobalt lass encouraged her reflexes. She could not bring herself to utter a word – she was too surprised, confused, and embarrassed. She stood like a shapely sack of potatoes stuck hard in the frost, arms limp at her sides and knees wobbly. A light breeze would have sent her toppling. Her pack felt large and heavy in her hands but she grasped it automatically when the strange Phoenix Valley wolf thrust it at her. Carefully she went about closing the top up. There were three sets of strings latching the lid and she turned limp noodles of leather into pretty, efficient bows in no time. That sort of thing came naturally to her small fingers that often worked independently of her mind at this point. It was convenient because it allowed her brain to ponder while her hands did all the labor. She had completed whole outfits with little more than basic guidance of her consciousness while she explored concepts for new ones or went over history or hunting strategies in her head. In many ways, the busy work that was her trade was soothing. It eased her nerves and gave her fidgety little body something to do. She still had to concentrate when it came to dying complicated patterns or rinsing those same intricate color combinations out, but skinning was almost as natural as breathing, and she could cut out a properly pinned pattern for simple skirts or tops in her sleep. Certainly, her mother had trained her well. It would have been a shame if any of her highly valued skin pieces were lost in the elements actually, but she trusted that her keen eyes would have picked up on any glaring spots of vibrant defiance on the blanket of only white. A scrap of color did suddenly show itself but it was only a bird and it twittered away briskly, paying no mind to the trivial lives and happenings of wolves. Saraqael not only felt trivial but tiny, beyond the physical sense. She wished to disappear into the encompassing storm of hazy paleness and drift away like a ghost on the wind. Getting into trouble and reacting so harshly to everything was tedious, especially on her nervous system which suffered so many ups and downs that she was constantly surprised that she was not completely desensitized.

Words sent her reeling at first, overloading her, and then they grounded her when the significance of them became clear. As Rendall told it, she had been to Inferni, knew where the lands were, and had communicated with one of her leaders, either Gabriel or Kaena, and had a positive experience. It was a most welcome surprise and a revelation that melted some of the frigidness she had felt towards the woman for touching her things and for pointing the arrow at her, even mistakenly. Her embarrassment for being so foolish still ran hot in her, flushing her cheeks with invisible heat, the pink color of blood. The only thing that could ease those feelings were time and perhaps a strong dose of forgetfulness. It helped that the woman, with her pelt of stormy sea, did not seem bothered by her reaction in any way. On the contrary, she might have been impressed or at least admiring. The Valley canine went on to assure her that they were not enemies and by the sound of her voice and the way she seemed to go on about it, she might have even been fond of the rag tag band of coyotes that she called a family and a pack. Either she spun beautiful lies in an attempt to snare Saraqael into a supposed net of safety only to pounce on the small girl like a spider, or she was telling the transparent truth. Even to herself she had to admit that the former option sounded contrived. It was the sick fantasy of a paranoid girl. She was aware of that and chose to let it go. The young female resigned herself to trust Rendall instead of fear or loathe her. After all, she had been nothing but nice, helpful, and kind.

Though it seemed impossible, the blue glowing female extended her good nature further. After examining her thin state and lack of clothing (which bothered her little, even in winter), she assessed that the thin coyote was hungry and freezing. They were not inaccurate statements but the fae with mismatched eyes was quite used to living a hard life when she had to. Travel did not afford many luxuries. It brought her back to times since past when her family would have to span long distances of open tundra or plain with their bags strapped to their bodies, forced to move in Optime form because of their human trades and the technologies, however scant, that were required to continue them. Her parents always allowed her to tag along in Lupus, especially when she was young, and never expected her to carry any of the weight. It might have killed her anyway for when she was but a child – a real one, for now she was over a year in age – she was as light as a feather and as small as a mouse, as far as anyone needed to be concerned. At under five feet at her adult height, things were not much better, and Saraqael had been known to be dangerously careless with her eating. She carried a small portion of rations in the bag, some simple dried rabbit meat, but other than that, had not really found the time to hunt yet on the trip which meant that she was burning the small amount of fat she already possessed into nothingness. It was dangerous, sure, but she had survived her last winter and trusted that her body could do so again. The help that was being offered, however, was tantalizing, and she could not imagine that it would hurt to accept the generosity of this stranger.

As though she had a choice! Rendall bundled her quickly in a cloak, a thing that happened too quickly for the skittish creature to fear or protest. Once done, it was significantly warmer, defeating with magical ease much of the windiness that came with snow and the harshest season in general. An offer to follow her to her cabin was extended, and then the opportunity to spend the night in a warm, dry place inside of the exposed outer territory. A sense of danger, and certainly hesitation, prickled in the back of her mind. She chose to ignore it. “I would appreciate it greatly,” she responded, for the first time looking earnestly at her ice-gemmed guide. All traces of mistrust were gone, and though she could not do away with the natural sharpness of her features that made her look foxy and cunning, she really was grateful. Pulling her feet out of the deep holes she had plunged them in, the Inferni member plodded silently alongside the well-meaning lady, keeping up with her with a bit of difficulty due to the comparative shortness of her legs and the depth of the snow. She managed. Observing closely her surroundings, it all looked foreign to her. Feeling lost and overwhelmed, she was lucky indeed to have stumbled upon one so sweet as Rendall.

Rendall · 01-16-2011, 08:58 PM

OOC: ^.^ oh just a for warning i'll be gone this next week but when i return i'll be sure to answer yours asap. Word Count: 1012

The woman stopped right next to the tree that had her rabbit decorated to the trunk and bent down carefully manuvering the arrow from the thick bark. With expertize she pulled the arrow and large hare free, happy to do so without breaking either one. She needed the pelt in as good of shape as possible and the meat undamaged for the perfect meal. She seperated the two by pulling the arrow all the way through and placed it in her carrier with the rest of them, they were special to her, they were the only kind that flew with such accuracy and graze with her bow, and the feathers on them were plucked from an owls wing so that they where silent when they flew. Rendall finished packing up the rest of her things and nodded towards the coyote, making a motion for the girl to fallow her. Ren sighed very ligtly, the other two bunnies would have to wait until another time. It was important to get the younger one home before the sun went down and they both seriously froze.

Ren fallowed her nose down the side of the hill, choosing her footing carefully so that she didnt make the big mistake of tumbling down the slope and breaking her neck at the bottom. She checked on her small companion with a glance back now and then to ensure that her company didnt do the same. She wasnt paying too much attention and almost lost her footing entirely, luckily, she just slid forward a few feet, muttering something in Norweagian under her breath. Finally as she reached the bottom she made another check on her new found guest and continued towards the ranch. The sun began to sloly set down behind the ridge, allowing the vally to rest in the shade of the mountains. The wolfess continued to move as dim lights of the ranch appeared in a field below her. She smiled seeing a few pack members move to and fro doing the chores that they all each shared now and then. However instead of taking the trail that lead to the comfy looking area she turned south taking a trail past the ranch and back into the hills.

A little while later and the duo past a seemingly deserted field, the little field was quiet and dark. Normally in the summer time the crass stood well over Ren in her Lupus form and fire flies always danced in the air above, allowing all those who passed to be mezmerized by the truely beautiful display. But in the dead of winter, the little bugs were gone and all that remained was a snow-covered tundra where once a jungle flourished. Still the woman continued her trek southwards. When it seemed lile dusk was almost settled a tiny light near the line of trees appeared. Rendall let out a releived breath and sped up her slow trot. Finally a small cabin came into better view and the woman quickly fallowed one of the many trails that led up to the doorstep. As she reached for the door handle Ren tunred to the girl "Here we are. Make yourself at home, theres a fire going so it should be warm, theres also an extra room to the left. You will find your bed in there." The wolfess offered the girl a pleasent smile and opened the door, letting the warmth spread over them.

Ren held the door opened for the girl and moved inside towards the back door, the kitchen, nodding to the doorway on the left "Make yourself comfortable while I get dinner started." Once inside the kitchen the woman disposed of what would have been lunch but was now a burnt crisp. She frowned as she tossed it out the window and into the snow, Ren hated when she had to do that, it was such a waste of food. She huffed and went to work skinning the Rabbit. Once that was done she placed the meat in a pot with some herbs and spices and carried the skin into a almost closet sized room next to the stove. In it skins were drying and awaiting to be turned into fur blankets or some other form of clothing that Ren might find useful to her. She got a stable frame for the rabbit fur and set it out to dry. Only after checking to see if any other fur needed to be taken out, did Rendall return to the other room, a buck-skin resting gently in her arms. She sat down on one of the cushions and waited for the girl to emerge from the room. As she did she quietly busied herself with sewing some wool onto the small buck-skin.

Her fingers moved intricately with the large needle and the leather strap it pulled. Ren slowly tightened each know she created and used her knife a few times to cut a few spots out and patch things here and there. As time went by a different kind of cloak came into vizualization. A smaller one. Rendall figured that since she had plenty of blankets for her beds she would make a cloak for the girl so that her travels were not so harsh. The meat simmered and Ren put her half-done project aside to go make some warm bread for the two of them. She grabbed flour, yeast and poured some fresh cream that she picked up weekly at the ranch into a bowl on the counter. She found out that whe nusing cream instead of water, the bread was thicker, more filling, and just plain tasted better. She kneaded the dough into a elongated shape and let it sit to rise for a moment, after it was done she placed some large coals from the fire into the oven, placed the makeshift loaf into the rack above to be cooked slowly while the meat cooked thuroughly on coals in the fire-bin above. She turned and went back by the fire, waiting for her guest to join her.

Saraqael · 01-17-2011, 12:23 AM

OOC: No problem! Sorry for the length. No need to match. >_< Word Count: 1669.

IC:
Saraqael watched with interest as Rendall approached the felled hare and lifted it up out of the snow. Blood stained its pelt slightly and painted the snow, but it was little compared to the mess she left when opening animals' bellies. Instead of pulling the arrow out, which seemed like a natural enough reaction and the easiest solution to getting it back, she pushed it all the way through and drew the fletched stick out from the opposite side. At first, this made little sense, but then she saw the way in which the hole opened easily, creating a wider cut for the shaft to go through. The extra slit in its hide was clean because the arrow was sharp. It could have been quickly sewn together with little loss in the way of attractiveness if she wanted to put it towards making a clothing item. If the talented lass had attempted to wiggle the arrow out the way it had gone in, the blunt back edge of the tip may have left ragged edges and a larger opening. Plus, it could have damaged meat or opened more organs, and entrails were best left intact for cleaning.

Bows were a marvel to her, as was how they were used. The partially feral girl trusted nothing but her own claws and teeth to do the job of taking down prey. While the long ranged method was efficient, as the evidence of the dead lapine attested to, it looked difficult to master. She did not possess the strength required to pull back the drawstring on even a short bow. The gentle ripple of lean muscle had not escaped her notice – Rendall's arms were practiced in her chosen art. Her own limp noodles for appendages would never have done well if put through the same rigorous activities. Possessing some light muscle tone was all she needed for running, walking, and performing basic daily motions. Strength was not the only thing holding her back. There was also the matter of aim. Naturally, as all hunters did, she had good depth perception and an eye for moving targets that allowed her to calculate when it was appropriate to lunge or strike. Fairly accurate, Saraqael was not even a perfect shot with her own physical body. It boggled her to no end trying to imagine how Rendall had made a tiny stick fly through the air and do the work of her body for her. After all, the Valley wolf could not feel the shaft of the arrow as she could her own fingers or arm. There were not nerves, blood vessels, and wiry muscle that attached her to it. Once it flew free from her arrow, there was no control over where it went or what it hit, it seemed. She could only do her best to guide it from the beginning. Oddly, she had been quite successful, and Saraqael was sure that like any finely honed skill, it had taken her quite some time to approach that level of greatness.

Finished being awestruck, she realized in her nose, stomach, and brain that the meat smelled incredibly enticing. The coyote had not been aware how truly hungry she was until she was exposed to the sight of food. Its pleasant odor and taste were somewhat misleading, though. Hare, or its close relative, the rabbit, was a dangerous winter food without supplement. Though the long eared rodents were easy to acquire because of their high populations in winter and the ease with which they bred, their meat was shockingly low in fat content. In part she imagined it was all the running they did, all the constant motion – their muscles were always burning calories. In addition, the creatures had exceedingly lean diets, subsisting off of basic grass, shrubs, and whatever else they could find. As far as she knew, rabbits did not frequently eat nuts or seeds, if at all. They were a great source of protein, that she could not deny, and she always needed that. She just had to be careful to balance it out with fat. Regardless, the odor of fresh flesh was making her rabbit jerky sound quite appetizing, especially if she was going to have to watch Rendall eat a full meal.

Saraqael skittered and slit down the hill with some grace, managing to keep her upright balance the whole time. Before they started, she had replaced her pack on her back, tightening the three sets of straps just above her hips, around her waist, and across her shoulders. It was a good thing, too, because the slight incline combined with the slickness of wet snow, even with her grippy paw pads, was almost enough to send her catapulting to the bottom, a ride which might have ended in broken limbs or worse, her scrawny little neck. She moved with care, navigating between flattish areas and controlling her descent when she had to slide. After that, they came near a villagey looking place, she assumed the heart of the pack lands where all the commerce and daily activities took place. It was there that she wished she could hide her face without anyone thinking her strange. Instead she wrapped the cloak Rendall had given her tighter around her little body as though it would protect her from prying eyes and walked on, taking care not to stare at anyone or look like she was paying too much attention to what they were doing. Keeping her two colored gaze focused ahead, the terrain soon changed. Faces and the noisy bustle of communal life faded to nothingness as the soft sounds of winter's silent nights took over. Wind, trees, and night birds joined in a comforting and wild chorus. Rendall seemed to know the trails and Saraqael had no choice but to trust her, moving beside her as swiftly as her short legs would allow. Eventually another human dwelling came into view. Her small heart pounded nervously at first, thinking it was a subsection of the larger town area, but the cabin stood alone, and it became apparent that the entire thing belonged to the dark-pelted lass. Before they entered, the girl noted that in the darkness, her fur looked midnight and slate, its azure undertones vanished with the light.

Warmth oozed out of the open door, flowing slower than the golden light that stained the porch and snow in a hard edged rhombus, like colored glass. Saraqael mostly heard what her keeper was saying but stumbled over the “making herself at home” portion because she knew it would be impossible for her. It felt peculiar to take advantage of generosity, for that was how she saw it, even though Rendall was clearly offering it willingly. Doing as she was told, the petite canine veered to the left once inside, avoiding a work table, and slipped quietly into the spare bedroom. As the lady had promised, there was a bed already made, a human luxury she enjoyed more than a little bit. She removed her large pack from her back and let it fall with a soft plop onto the bed. Setting it on the floor, she looked around the room. It was small, quaint, and more than she had ever hoped to happen upon while traveling. Strangely, she was beginning to feel comfortable, not even feeling compelled to check her bag for all of its contents now that she was out of Rendall's sight. Taking a moment to relax, she breathed quietly for a little while, listening to the sounds coming from the main room of the tiny house. She heard a window and the spatter of liquid in the snow, presumably old food or water. Familiar cutting sounds whispered followed by the sound of scraping and plopping as meat was transferred to a container. Then a door opened, wood creaked (the noise of fur being stretched across a frame for drying, though she did not know), and it closed again. A small bout of silence, then general rustling caused her humongous ears to perk. A noise she knew intimately, the gentle pop of a needle through thick hide followed by the gentle hiss of thread being pulled through, intrigued her enough to make her want to step out in spite of her intent to be unobtrusive. At the same time, the smell from whatever was cooking began to bloom fragrantly, filling the house. The sounds changed again. This time bowls scraped and shifted and there was the crusty, breaking noise of coals being disturbed. Her curiosity was brimming, now, and she could no longer force herself to inaction.

Like a wraith, she peeled her bottom off the bed and swept silently into the central room. Still wearing the warm cloak, she balled her fists in the excess, grabbing at it for comfort. Part of her still felt strange and afraid, but she was in a place full of warmth, light, delightful smells, and kindness. “Thank you so much for taking me into your home like this,” she said sheepishly. Saraqael had grown so unaccustomed to the old ways of hospitality and it was fortunate for her that Rendall still clung to them. Taking the initiative, she found a little spot at a nice distance away from the fire so that she would be neither too hot nor too cold in her cloak. Looking up at the lady who had saved her from a frosty night out in the elements, she was not sure what to say, at first. Gratitude bubbled in her chest, but she had already stated that. Speaking was not one of her best skills, but it was only polite for her to try, especially since the Valley female had taken care to respect her nature. The coyote noticed how she did not press her to awkward conversation. Finally, in her small voice, she asked, “How did you come to Phoenix Valley?” It was as good of a place to start as any.

Rendall · 01-25-2011, 12:30 AM

ooc: lol word count: 786

Ren smiled happily for the girl, she had no problem extending her hospitality for anyone particularly children. She patted the area next to her for the girl to have a seat. Ren almost grimanced at the child's question, it wasnt her fault Ren's past wasnt the best but it still made the womans skin crawl. "Well you see, I was once born into a pack well outside of these lands. The pack was that of my fathers and my mother was well, a lone luperci much like many of us. He had brought her into his life and family, which were all just wolves, non-lupercis, as his mate. The pack didnt approove of her "not-so-pure-blood" and the "illness" she gave to my father. So as a result the litter born before me were outcasts and I was, well, refused a normal life I guess you could say." many wolves life didnt start pretty, she didnt know the girls past but she hoped that it wasnt nearly as bad as some of the things she heard of or experienced.

Ren pondered back on the days when the wolves discovered that because of breeding, her father became like her mother. The other "pure-bred" wolves felt it was if staining a royal blood line with that of a prostitutes. He had even refused the wolfess that he was promised to from birth. But being the alpha meant his word was law, even above his own sires or his mothers. Which was never a law excersied until her mother came into the picture, usually the wovles had very high respect for their parents. Sires, males who were the oldest or vetrens that had produced offspring, were always placed at the highest point, just below the alpha and his mate. But even they could not turn her stubborn father from his path, once he had seen Rendall's mother, he hadnt wanted anyone else. She sighed heavily and looked at the innocent child. It was amazing how a single question could hurt so much.

"Forgive me if I stop for a minute, would you like some tea?" She walked into the kitchen quickly and poured some warm water into two cups and put some tea into each, stirring it quickly so that the leaves could seep in nicely, she put some sugar in each and walked back by the fire, handing a cup gently to the girl as Ren herself took a sip and thought for a moment more before continuing. "The elders didnt see fit to allow us the way of our Luperci life so instead we were taught in the dark by my mother. We were shown how to shift and how to use our forms very well. Well, finally the cat got out of the bag you could say and the next thing I knew it was just me and my mother. My older siblings had fled into the wilderness to well begin their own lives I guess...."

She stopped, her breath almost caught in her chest as she remembered what happened then....the long month of learning, then...The infection that had first claimed her sweet mothers legs.....and then......Her mothers quiet last breaths as she passed on in her sleep one peaceful night. Rendall knew the day before, her mother could even leave the den, and when Rendall curled up against her she had given her mother extra care and love before trying to sleep. She instead had listened to her mothers peaceful sleep as her air intake became more and more weak. When the girl realized her mother wouldnt rouse from her sleep, she left in the middle of the night, not able to take the feeling of being around the lifeless body any longer. She daddled with her tea cup for a moment. "It was soon just me after that, I lived on my own, fishing, and wondering around trying to find someone who could help me.. I had remebered my mother telling me about this area, so I made my way down to the Valley borders were I met an old wolf named Da Vinci who took me in and taught me everything else." she stood up and shrugged her shoulders as she went to check on the food. "The rest is history I guess, I did leave for a periodic soul- searching time, but this place will always be my home."

She turned her inquisitive eye on the girl, observing her reaction to the tale before turning around and opening the stove and inhaling the delicious fumes. "Dinners done." She brought the pretty little coyote a plate of meat and bread and placed it in her lap. "So how did you come to be in Inferni?"

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