the simplest treasures
#1
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Blah post. Sorry for taking so long! / +357


The antler had to have belonged to a king.

Blinking and staring at the many-pointed thing, Vesper couldn’t help but imagine the beast that had held it up a season past. The neck muscles for the antler and its twin alone made her mouth water, and she had to swallow before trotting closer to sniff. The brow tine near the base of the cast-off antler was chipped, as were a few of the other points, but she wasn’t sure if that was a result of being locked in battle or the wear from other animals investigating it after it was dropped in the winter months.

She wondered briefly if the deer was still around, wandering through the snowy forest and browsing for sustenance now that the vegetation had died. If not, she supposed, its carcass would have been devoured long ago. But the single antler remained, lying in the snow, and with a decisive flick of her tail, the she-yote dipped her head to grab it. Her feral mind saw it as a prize to chew on, while the slightly more civilized part saw it more as a potential decoration, a gift that she could give to one of her comrades.

Heading back to Inferni was a good idea; she’d already gathered what information she could around the north and the east, and she missed the familiar scents of the territory. She would need to report to Ezekiel, and then maybe walk amongst the others in the Lumen tier to see if they needed any direction—the part of her job that she was least confident about. Patrolling could wait until the night; until then, she might pester Helotes or visit Myrika in her lonely village, as if she’d ever be able to work up the nerve.

She snorted at that, mouth clamped around the main offshoot of the antler, attempting to tug it through the snow. She ached for wolf jaws right now; as it was, she tugged and tugged, four paws moving slowly backwards as she headed toward the clan. The thought didn’t cross her mind that carrying the thing in optime hands would help.


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#2
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Sorry it kinda took a little while. Word Count-276

It hurt. Oh, god it hurt. The silent, icy morning was filled with the sound of desperate breathing. No matter how hard he tried, Dhiate couldn't catch his breath. The cold air stabbed his lungs with each attempt and his throat cried out with bursts of pain for every wisp of air that came through as he lay in a pitiful heap on the ground. Wh-why did it still hurt this month? All of his other injuries had healed almost a month ago. His muscles had almost been restored to their previous state long ago. The only thing holding him back was the fact that he couldn't exert himself. Dhiate grew frustrated with himself for having to strain to catch small birds and rodents. His ribs could be shown through his thickish white fur. Every time he tried to run, the same thing happened.


After a long struggle, Dhiate's sides eventually took a steady rhythm and the wolf decided to risk getting back to his paws. His irises were the color of a storm cloud framed by jagged red lines accentuating his pain. His delicate cream colored paws stumbled in the snow as his slender legs trembled. He needed to eat really badly. Not enough that he'd die if he didn't, but if he delayed his next meal, he'd find himself ill again. With a sigh, Dhiate closed his shadowy eyelids and lifted his dark frown nose. It quivered as it struggled to detect the scent of animals in this clean world. Eventually, he caught the scent of wolf. Disgusted with himself, he headed towards the scent knowing that he'd eventually find some left over prey.


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#3
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Vesper quickly grew frustrated
with her slow pace at dragging the antler, but even as she paused and considered whether it would even look pretty enough as a decoration to make hauling it to Inferni worth the effort, the sound of paw pads crunching the packed snow distracted her. She dropped the thing and lifted her head, her good ear swiveling forward even as her mangled one fell back uncertainly. Allowing her curiosity to take over, she trotted toward the footfalls.

The sight that met her was startling. It was near impossible to see the hazy, snow-colored shape stepping through the winter forest, other than the outline against the dark colors of the trees and dead undergrowth. Even from a distance, she could see that the creature staggering in her direction looked emaciated, starved. Her blue eyes widened, empathy a sharp pang in her belly.

“Hey, sweetheart—” the tawny coywolf began, but even as the lovely slender shape of the downy wolf fooled her eyes, her nose revealed a different story. It was a male, and while she hesitated, choking off her words, she did not stop from cantering over to him with dark-tipped tail straight out and a frown crossing her lips. Once she came close, she paused and lowered her ears, looking his skinny pale frame over and sighing. “Are you going to be all right?”


Image courtesy of henrikj@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

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#4
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OOC herpderp

Word Count :: +000

Sweetheart? As the words reached his dark rimmed ears, Dhiate's slight frame jerked and his thick fur raised. Despite his efforts, Dhiate had seen or smelled th female as he approached. It only occurred to him after his jump, what exactly she had said.

His bloodshot eyes glared coldly and his hackles lowered. Sweetheart she had called him. That was a phrase generally reserved for other females or young pups unless the speaker was old. Well this one wasn't old, and he wasn't a pup. A deep sigh escaped him. His slate gray eyes rolled in his head. Dhiate was acutely aware of the fact that he looked like a girl. This wasn't the first, nor would it be the last time he was mistaken for a female.

Dhiate's lip curled in a grimace. He tryed to mouth, "I'll be fine" but he was certain that it didn't look that way. A rusty moan came from his throat as he tried to speak instead. He winced in pain and his belly protested that it was still empty. Despite his pride, he wasn't alright.

Table by Alex

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#5
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Vesper is obnoxious! +3


The bony shape of the androgynous wolf recoiled slightly at her words, and Vesper could not tell whether it was due to her mistake or that he had only just recognized her. When his smoky blue-grey eyes narrowed at her, however, she flicked her tail behind her dismissively. Had she not been so concerned by his condition, she might have gone so far as to shrug. Genetics had chosen for him to look pretty, just as she looked rugged and boyish, especially in her other forms.

The thought gave her pause unexpectedly, and her nostrils flared again. Light cornflower eyes widened as she realized that he was non-luperci, untouched, pure. The realization shifted things in his favor even more; while she might not have cared much for a random luperci staggering through the forest, she did care about preserving the non-luperci. Once she had wanted to prove her worth as one of them, but since that fateful day in these woods, all she could do was assist those that were no longer her kin.

She continued to come closer, maintaining just enough distance so that he couldn’t whirl around and bite her—as if he’d be able to, in his weak condition. A raspy sound came from his mouth then, perhaps a protest. Regardless, she only shook her head and reached out to nudge his protruding hip sharply before dancing back to that same distance.

“I will hunt something for you,” Vesper said firmly. “I won’t force it down your throat, now, so whether you want to eat or die is up to you.” She smirked faintly, even as she stepped cockily away from him. “If you die, your damn loss, and the world is minus one moron.”

Oh, she could laugh at her hypocrisy. Arrogance was her true name, and more than once she had almost thrown away her life for pride. In dire situations, she might stoop to accept a token of meat from a kindly soul or even bandaging and shelter, but she’d fought almost to the death several times to preserve her bloated ego.

She was gone for a record amount of time, lucky enough to find a squirrel scuttling along the ground. Snatching it up, she swung it by the tail and struck its head against the ground in lieu of adjusting her grip. It was clumsy, and she had thick fur on her tongue, but she counted her blessings and dragged it back to the pale stranger. If he was indeed still there, he would have the food thrown at him soon enough.

“If I were religious, I’d say a deity was looking out for you,” Vesper drawled once the squirrel hit the ground. “Walked right into my mouth.”


Image courtesy of henrikj@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

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#6
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OOC- WordCount-300

Dhiate's stormy eyes widened as she came closer. After she reached a certain point, his eyes hardened and his face wrinkled in the beginnings of a snarl. He didn't like people coming close, who knew what they'd do? Who knew what they intended? He crouched in a defensive position. He was literally becoming those weak creatures huddled in the corner. He was becoming the very thing he hated. He jumped almost a foot in the air from shock when he felt her cold nose against his slight hip. She was touching him! The poor wolf's face became even more contorted as a rasp escaped his lips.

Then it all faded. His delicate face became smooth, became shocked. She was offering to help him? He who was a stranger, a weak thing that couldn't fend for himself? It almost brought tears to his eyes. As it was, his entire position relaxed, and his figure was more pronounced. The sleek fur, the dainty paws, slender legs, plumy tail. The longer you looked, the more feminine he became. Dhiate lowered his head and looked up through dark lashes. This was the most thanks he could give.

Dhiate didn't even attempt to hide the long strings of saliva that dripped from his milky white chin. It had been almost two weeks since he had smelled fresh meat like this. He could hardly refrain from lunging ravenously. Could hardly stop himself from snatching the carcass from her jaws like a wild beast. As it was, when she finally let go of the delicious meal, he could contain himself no longer. He shook with excitement as he gorged himself on the furry squirrel. He looked up and paused as she spoke. A confused look came to his face. Religion? Deity? These words meant nothing to him.


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#7
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Sorry for the wait. +3


Being such a proud creature herself, Vesper had expected the sleek male to resist her help and turn his nose up at the squirrel or something. However, it appeared that he had only been suspicious and on-edge at her presence, and she felt guilty for speaking to him as she did. He looked soft and relieved—at least until drool fell from his mouth at the sight of the food. Once again feeling like crap for the way she’d acted, she kept a great distance between herself and the meat and watched him expressionlessly as he tore into it. It was pathetic; how could a creature let itself get into this state? She wondered if he’d been ill or injured, not believing that it was a lack of ability; luperci might be able to let themselves get lazy and rely on weapons or even just other wolves to get their meat, but the still-feral canines didn’t often have those luxuries. It was what made them so untainted in comparison.

She was silent as he ate, at least until he looked up at her with confusion in his slender but gaunt features. She blinked, wondering what had put him off, and backtracked to what she’d last said to him. Her lips quirked in a smirk, and she shook her head. “Don’t you worry your pretty head about it. Some, mostly luperci, believe in greater powers that live in the sky and dictate our lives or some nonsense.”

She took a seat then stretched her slender but scarred forelegs out until she was reclining in the snow, her blue eyes resting briefly on the large antler before returning to him. She let him finish the morsel before venturing to ask, “What’s your name, and how long have you been in Nova Scotia?” She paused, remembering to reciprocate, and added, “I’m Vesper, and I was born in the north myself. Only came here in the fall.”



Image courtesy of henrikj@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

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#8
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OOC-Sorry it's so... Awful. WordCount-327

​This once proud creature would have gotten in a verbal fight with the crude vocabulary to put a human sailor to shame. Not that he knew what they were or that they even existed. He himself had never been told that any beast besides the wolves had ever ruled the land. Which is why he shrugged off the 'pretty head' comment in favor of that word. Luperci. Could the word have anything to do with those 'deity', and 'religion' words? It was quite possible, he thought. Of course... Any thing was possible. Things had been so strange since the fire. Sometimes Dhiate wondered whether all of this was a dream and the fire had never happened. But you couldn't feel pain in dreams could you? Then the fire that ran through his throat had to be proof.

Dhiate took the familiar position of late. He stance was almost that of one about to lose his food, and the shuddering rasps that ran through his body didn't help. Contrary to all of this, he was not about to vomit, he was having a coughing episode. They were becoming rarer and rarer lately as he healed, but their intensity hadn't changed. Several red lines stretched through his eyes and blood began to fleck the his lips and the ground beneath him. When it was over, and his body relaxed, Dhiate looked up and appeared to be many years older. His eyes and body gave off waves of miserable aura. He was so tired.

The damaged wolf could hold himself up no longer and fell to an ungraceful heap. He looked up at the female. He wished he could answer her, but he couldn't. For the past month, his vocal chords had been such a burnt mess that he couldn't talk. He didn't even know what 'Nova Scotia' was either. But Dhiate tried one last time. All that came out was a hoarse moan and another cough. It was hopeless.


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