go west young man

Timori de le Poer · 03-11-2012, 04:03 PM

The small boy had finally done it. He had somehow managed to lose the small feline that had been trailing him like a shadow. He sat on the rise overlooking the bay with his chest puffed out and a glint of adventure in his sparkling blue eyes. They were his grandmother's eyes, or so he had been told. A woman that his aunt would say nothing more about aside from that. It always left him wondering, but most everything Zana spoke of left him more curious than anything. She was always short when it came to speaking of his other aunts and uncles, she had next to nothing to say upon the subject of his grandmother.. but when it came to his father and mother she could shower his with stories for hours. While he wished she wasn't so secretive about the rest of their family he loved the tales of travel and adventure his parents and aunt had played roles in. One day soon he too wished that he could begin to take the steps to carving his own adventure.

He flicked his thick ears back and forth, listening for the cat with no tail as he slowly strolled down to the bay. Zana would not be pleased that he had managed to lose Sup today but it was another win for him. His large oversized paws and trunk like legs pounded on the sands as he dug into the shifting surface. He had spent much time with Zana on the shore and he had always enjoyed it but he knew today would be extra special for he would enjoy it without the ever watchful eyes of some strange guardian that Zana seemed to think he needed.

He loved his aunt dearly but they were as different as night and day. He already outsized her when she was in her four legged forms and he was very quickly coming to the point where he had to be careful when traveling with her as it was. The youthful boy didn't know how to ask why they were so different, they were blood after all.. but he was beginning to realize that there was something about his aunt that she alone seemed to have. He had seen others in their shifted form and not once had he met a creature as tiny as his aunt. He knew she was strong for her size, but he worried at times. She had told him she had survived this long and she would survive until the day he died. He believed her, but his mind was growing and advancing and doubts and secondary paths were forming that challenged her promise.

He gave up on thinking for now though, it was too tasking, and there was new things to discover washed up by the tides.

Max Klein · 03-11-2012, 04:33 PM

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The hunt had been successful, for Max had taken advantage of the bit of remaining snow to spook a fat rabbit. This he had eaten completely, but it wasn’t uncommon for him to take in a large amount of food. His size accounted for this; Max outweighed most of the clan and while he was aware of this it no longer bothered him. Half-monsters were supposed to be big, after all. The snaggled teeth and massive shaggy body were clear signs that he was more than just a coyote.

Max trotted through the Waste, his pace an easy lope like that of a dog. A fluffy white tail hung half-curled behind him, bouncing with each step. The Hastati was pleased with himself and seeking something to further his interest. He considered looking for Ezekiel or Helotes, but knew that both males were in bad moods following whatever dramas had occurred with them, and he had little desire to go seek out Halo given her attitude (and accident). Luckily, he soon picked up a shape on the horizon. It was a gray puppy that, while clearly a coyote, hardly looked the part. Of course most of the members here were hybrids, himself included. It made for a hardier breed, but undermined the idea of a true “coyote” clan.

Approaching at his steady pace, Max announced himself with a deep dog’s bark. His tail wagged behind him as a sign of friendliness and while his head was high, it was more out of curiosity then dominance.

Timori de le Poer · 03-11-2012, 05:34 PM

A name that had once been better associated with wolves was what he owned, in a clan that belonged to the coyotes. He didn't know anything about his name, only that it had once belonged to his mother. While he wondered why he had been graced with her name and not his father's he had not yet asked that question of his small guardian just yet. Today was not for worrying on the past or brooding over his blood, it was a day for sticking his nose in clumps of kelp and seaweed, overturning driftwood and hopefully finding a tasty snack or two along the way. This was the life of the young and carefree, though he knew sooner or later life would catch him and make him grow up and grow old, until then he was determined to fight it every step of the way.

He had his head half buried under a large piece of driftwood as his canines snapped happily at the claws of a cornered crab. The young de le Poer had managed to capture the creature by it's massive claw and he had been lucky not to have been pinched. Dragging the creature out from it's cover he lifted his head up quickly, the crab still danging in his jaws as he whipped his head around to find out just who was calling to him, hoping it wasn't someone who would find more suitable training and chores for one his size.

His tag gave a happy and delighted wag when he realized that the newcomer was Max. He had spent a time or two in the male's company when Zana had been away on one of her secret missions. Timori was glad to see another male and even more excited to see one that was someone he knew better than just knowing their scent belonged to the clan. He tried to call out to the misty hued male, forgetting for the moment he had a rather dangerous creature danging from his jaws. "Mwaaaffftt" Remembering suddenly he spat the creature out, moving back quickly to avoid it's claws as he barked. "Hey, Max!" His eyes shimmering happily at just being out in the world.

Max Klein · 03-14-2012, 08:24 PM

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The truth of the matter was that the names of the clan—notably, de le Poer and Lykoi—were spread so thin that they were hardly unique. It identified them with Inferni, but other signs were more obvious to Max. Red eyes like monsters, yellow eyes like devil-birds. Prominently, he saw red as a sign of the bloodline—it was reflected in their pelts as much as their eyes. Therefore, to Max, Timori favored a lineage that was not familiar to him. It was a flaw much like his own; Max took after the Amarok that had spawned him, but he had finally begun to embrace this. A demon-god’s blood coursed through his body and made him mighty.

Yellow eyes trailed to the young hunter, noting his rather dangerous prize. Max grinned toothily at it, recalling the first time he had tried to hunt crab. It had ended poorly, with him ki-yi’ing all the way down the shore with a sore nose. Luckily no one had been around to witness his failure, and he was now confident with the technique Ezekiel had taught him. Their other dog had been thrilled with the fishing, and was already working on putting together cages and nets and all sorts of things to make “gumbo”, or something of the sort.

Large paws carried him towards the boy, who lost his prize in order to return his call. The white dog rushed forward, grinning with his spitz-grin, and slapped the crab sharply. It flipped over, exposing its belly, and Max let out a barking laugh of approval. “Wanted something more dangerous than mice today?” He asked, eyes gleaming.

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