i've got this half moon

Vesper · 03-17-2012, 10:27 PM

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Open to one clan mate. Ves needs a hug or
something like that. It'd be cool if a friend showed up; anyone else might experience a bit of tongue-lashing or empty staring. >> She's in optime. +5

The scarred woman had been a fool to think she was impervious to pain; not the pain of an open gash or broken bone, but the pain that got in your chest and wracked the breaths from your body and dragged you down to depths deep enough to make you question your ability to stand again. She knew that she would stand, knew that she would heal from this in time, but that she was so affected by this, so weakened, made her want to scream in frustration. She had killed a boy, she had survived more than one attempt on her life, and yet she had been cut down by the passing of a she-wolf she by all accounts shouldn’t care about.

Blind was a wolf, an outsider, a face she had resigned herself to never seeing again ever since their lives diverged. But Vesper would not hesitate to throw everything away for the chance to hear her voice.

No, it’s stupid, and you only think that because you know it isn’t possible. Dull blue eyes opened. Her forehead was leaned against a tree, her body hunched, her expression resigned. You know you’ll stop feeling like shit if you give it time. Everyone heals. She sighed and pulled away, her claws tracing the scars in the bark. The soft frown on her face did not waver or deepen or fade. You aren’t the first luperci to lose someone you love. You didn’t even love her, didn’t know her.

But she thought she had, sometimes, when she was delirious with happiness and the girl was in her arms. That emotion had faded with time too, however, as she grew more dedicated to Inferni and opened her eyes to others who were more present, easier to protect. She couldn’t shake off the feeling that she might have come to love Blind had they run off together like the girl had pleaded what seemed like eons ago. But that was a “would have” and that was even worse to obsess about than the physical past.

The Optio turned and walked, moving among the trees, giving the mansion a wide berth, stepping numbly. Spring sunlight fell upon her and the earth, bringing out all the new scents that would grow stronger and richer as time went on. She reasoned that the aroma of flowerbuds and grass should make her feel happy, but she couldn’t bring herself to smile.

“Boy.” The croaked voice made her lift her blue gaze to the raven perched on the branch of an old tree. They regarded each other in silence before the bird nudged something at his claws; her pale hand reached out to catch the piece of meat as it fell. Squirrel—she hated squirrel. “Boy eating now,” Stark murmured. “Too skinny, too sad. Spring coming. Working soon, no useless lump.”

She shrugged, her sharp claws tearing off a small morsel of the stringy flesh and popping into her mouth. She chewed, glad that her inevitable sadness took the flavor out of everything.

“Vesper,” the raven said after a moment, and her half-mast ears snapped upward as her jaw went slack. He never referred to her by her name. The usage had gotten her attention like he wanted, however, so he went on. “Stark losing friend too. Stark knowing and boy knowing all things pass.”

And he flapped away. She chewed on the second and last mouthful of squirrel and picked the bits of fur from her teeth with a claw. Then she went walking again, not caring about where she stepped, not caring about anything but the soreness of her chest and the ache of her eyes. All things passed, but like souls they passed at their own time.

Max Klein · 03-17-2012, 11:22 PM

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Life was, in Max’s opinion, one of tooth and claw. He had experienced open hostility for much of his young life, and many concepts beyond this had fallen short with him. There was no love in his world, only like. He respected Ezekiel, and most of his elders, and he liked the younger members of the clan, but he did not go beyond this. Being a monster prevented him from such things, he reasoned, and so he did not worry about anything more than the day-to-day survival of an animal that desired food, combat, sex and sleep.

He was hunting when he spotted the single raven, and from the distance, he assumed it to be Ibsen. Hoping to find Ezekiel, the doggish hybrid picked his pace up to a loping trot. If the two of them teamed up maybe they could go after a bigger animal. Max, given his large size, required more food then the majority of the coyotes in the clan. He was even bigger then some wolves; this led him to confirm his suspicion of the Amarok as his father, and so he decided that was the truth.

As he neared the location, a familiar scent reached his nose. It was not Ezekiel, which disappointed him, but Vesper was close. She was a leader here, and while they had occasionally sparred, he did not know her beyond these labels. The half-monster approached the woman boldly, yellow eyes gleaming and tongue lolling from his mouth. It was starting to warm, and his thick pelt had just begun showing signs of shedding the thick layer under his guard hair.

Vesper · 03-20-2012, 08:32 PM

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Her idle walk came to a halt as she caught sight of the hybrid headed toward her, and Vesper blinked once languidly even as she wondered whether she wanted to see him. She’d sparred with Max a few times and was fond of him in a distant way, but the sight of his young features reminded her of Blind. It wasn’t that they looked alike—dark Blind was strictly lupine while pale Max’s face betrayed his dual-heritage of coyote and malamute—but she remembered her lament on the mountain: why did the innocent die when sinners yet lived? Even despite his odd way of referring to his mixed species, she did not count Max among monsters.

The returning grief passed, however, at the sight of his lolling tongue and the all-round easiness he carried himself with. Vesper was not quite able to gather the enthusiasm and warmth reserved for such young members of the clan, but she spared him a nod.

“What are you up to today, Max?” the coywolf asked, folding one arm across her thin waist while her other hand went up to scratch her jaw. As was growing customary of her, her brown shoulder gravitated toward a near tree, and she leaned against it watching him.

Max Klein · 03-21-2012, 12:57 PM

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His approach slowed as she stopped moving, and even at a distance he could see something was bothering her. There was a shadow hanging over her, something he did not understand and could not grasp. Emotionally stunted as he was, Max was only capable of recognizing emotions and not grasping them as someone else might. This made him for poor company when it came to matters of the heart, so prone as he was to conniptions.

The languid position she took suggested to him that whatever angst plagued her had passed. This seemed fitting to him, who let go of things lacking in worth, and he did not think sorrow was such a thing to hold onto. Yellow eyes peered up at her face from where he sat, admiring the fine line of her jaw and the jagged scars that crossed her face. Max had no scars from battle; he had fought wolves before, and he had watched one die, but he was not a true warrior yet.

“I was looking to hunt,” he told her, and sat. One hind leg rose to scratch as his side, dislodging a chunk of pale fur in the process. The Malamute blood, while it gave him remarkable size, had damned him with a coat that shed heavily twice a year. “What are you doing?” This wasn’t a patrol, obviously—it would be silly for her to take one in her two-legged shape.

Vesper · 04-01-2012, 09:48 AM

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A smile slipped across her narrow muzzle when she saw the tuft of fur floating away from the wind. It was a baby bird of a smile, featherless, weak, but somewhere she was sure Stark perched and approved. She nodded at his statement then cocked her head at his question, both arms now folding across her small breasts. She was never sure what to do with her arms, but this way they put somewhat of a barrier between others and her awkward optime body, androgynous and uncomfortable and scarred as it was. It was strange to think this was the same arrogant creature that lived on four legs and faced the world with a crooked, supercilious smirk.

“Nothing,” Vesper answered. Was it truly possible to do nothing? She sighed and amended, “Brooding, thinking, wasting my damn time. A hunt sounds good right now.” She unfolded her arms, her pale cornflower eyes managing to not be quite so dull as before. “I probably couldn’t help you catch as something as large as another might, but I’ll help.”

Regardless of if he’d like to hunt with her, she let her body collapse into a more familiar but still unnatural shape. Her form relinquished itself to gravity, coming down to all fours, crunching, hurting for the first time in a while. Uncomfortable minutes later, the hybrid stood in her more wolfish secui form, her smoke-and-wood mane fluffed along her thickened neck.

Max Klein · 04-02-2012, 02:27 PM

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Though he had always been a Luperci, Max was amongst those who favored his four legs. He had spent most of his childhood as such, though the Optime form allowed for more skills and more abilities. Combat was one thing, but being able to shoot a prey animal (or a wolf) from a distance was a remarkable feat. While he could outrun a horse, riding one allowed for him to do more—to carry things, to drag things. Of course, Oblak was getting heavy with her foal and this meant he did not ride her as much. The other horse, Merab, would drop sooner.

The grouse was heard but ignored; she was speaking in the manner of all adults, and he had no desire to dwell on shadows. However, he did empathize with her body language, and was glad that she changed to meet his own form. Max did not stare at her as this happened, instead looking into the distance intensely. Once she was finished, he rose and wagged his tail. Her Halfling form was larger than his lupus one, though he was still taller by a few inches. He did not even consider challenging her for dominance in this matter, though her deferral of joining him allowed Max to decide that he was leading them in this task. This only served his purpose greater. It was a challenge, then, and one he wished to show his talent in.

“We could take down a deer,” he suggested, and sniffed at the air. “That way we both get enough to eat.”

Vesper · 04-09-2012, 08:45 AM

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Vesper really couldn’t remember a time when she’d been young and happy-go-lucky in the usual sense. She couldn’t complain about her days as a pup, but even then she hadn’t been carefree so much as somberly studious of the world. Inferni allowed her to feel safe for once, giving her time to entertain silly emotions and enjoy herself, but darkness was encroaching on the world. It had stolen Blind away and blinded Halo, and she knew her happiness was fated to always be short-lived.

A hunt would be good. It’d get her actually doing something rather than walking around and sulking. Although she wasn’t that hungry, she nodded at the moon-mist youth in agreement with his choice of prey. Stark would want her eating more, anyway; she could almost feel his beady black eyes on her, even if he wasn’t in sight when she chanced a glance skyward.

Her tail wagged lightly, and she began to trot in the direction where she’d last seen some deer—although her footsteps grew smaller to allow the boy to go ahead. She’d never been one for imposing dominance on others, especially in subtle things like this, so she simply walked at his shoulder.

“So you’re a Hastati now, right?” Vesper asked lightly. She was interested in the Bellum ranks even though she led a different tier, and she knew that the boy had trained extensively under their Aquila.

Max Klein · 04-15-2012, 10:38 PM

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Max was unique in his world because he invented most of it. The boy who had claimed monster blood and lost his family to the unfortunate curse of turning into badgers was utterly without the comfort of family or kin. He was marked by his coat and by his size, and his vision of the world had not changed much…only adapted to the facts and the truths as he knew them. The world was a savage place, and the monsters he spoke of were very real.

The Optio took his suggestion in stride, and Max joined her in an easy lope. His size afforded speed, but she was like him—halfblooded—and they fell in line together. If they had been hunting for something larger he might have taken point behind her, as was the instinctive way of doing things. Several members of the clan hunted in peculiar ways, though, and Max found himself adapting to different styles. His own favored his native form, though this was due to his large size. If he was as small as a true coyote he would not have done such a thing.

“I am,” Max said proudly, and his tail flagged to show it. The spitz bloodline was apparent there most of all—it was a fluffy thing that curled when he was especially excited. “I haven’t done much differently though,” he admitted. “Ezekiel is still my main teacher, though I do most of my training on my own.”

Vesper · 04-16-2012, 07:27 PM

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I like that picture. Big Grin

Vesper matched him step for step with long strides, and she smirked when his curled bush of a tail lifted. She might have pursued the warrior way had she thought of herself as one—but she was more of a scrapper than anything, scuffling when she had to and avoiding fights more often than not (at least since she had matured). She didn’t make an occupation out of brutality; she didn’t have the build or the mindset.

“You can do some teaching yourself now, too,” she pointed out, thinking of her own scouts. She’d claimed Hybrid’s offspring more or less, fueled by their shining gold eyes and high spirits. It was a nice distraction from the rough coyotes whose scars marked their age—so long as she could protect them as she could not protect Blind.

Frowning, she swiveled her ears forward and slowed her steps. A couple of deer were browsing ahead, allowing her to get her thoughts away from grief. Floating away on a waking nightmare would do nothing for her belly or Max’s, and she didn’t want to prove herself weak. She crouched slightly, her thick secui mane spiked up from her neck to between her rolled shoulders. Her blue eyes flicked to Max, as did her tail, allowing him to take the lead in this hunt. It’d been some time since she’d caught something larger than a rabbit, and she had faith that he’d have a simpler strategy.

Max Klein · 04-26-2012, 07:14 AM

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art by crypsis

Fighting was instinctive for him. Max had been raised with an abusive tooth and hand at his back and while there were no obvious scars to speak of, his mind was proof enough. Destruction was what gave him purpose. There was no room for creation in him; not physically, at least. Tactical and brutal was how to best describe him, and even these were too simple for the inner workings of a boy who had long been telling stories of great and magnificent adventures.

The suggestion of teaching brought a pause to his step, but it was slight and recovered quickly. Before he had a chance to respond their target loomed ahead, all legs carrying a trunk of meat. Max’s body dropped to a slow stalk, lowered as best he could. His pelt was a true disadvantage, but this was why Vesper was here. His nose motioned to one of the smaller does lingering on the edge of the group. They were close enough that driving her to the river was a possibility, though the kill would need to be taken before she hit the water. It still surprised him that deer were such strong swimmers, given their stick-like legs.

Slowly, he moved forward one step at a time. His ears were high, his tail forced down and at length with his spine. The dirt on his coat became useful now—it dulled the white to a flatter shade, though he still stood out terribly against the wash of not-quite spring green and brown.

Vesper · 04-29-2012, 10:48 AM

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The hybrid boy—closer to a man—hunkered down as he pulled himself forward step by step. He really did have an unfortunate pelt for camouflage, although when snow blanketed the Waste it would be more of a blessing. She had a distinct coat too, but it was all woody tan, dark and light, dappled with shadows and patched with scars. Her tongue flicked along needlelike teeth as she followed his lead, eyes finding the smallish deer as directed.

Paw over paw, weight balanced for silence and senses strained to note the direction of the wind, she stalked their target alongside Max. Her path was a slightly rounded one, only a subtle shift now, but eventually she’d be able to come along the side of the creature; it was no use the two of them bolting headlong toward the deer unless they were close enough. She would have to wait for the other’s direction, however, and see if it was best for her to strike from the side or go elsewhere.

Max Klein · 04-30-2012, 10:20 AM

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art by crypsis

For his size, Max had learned the art of stalking well. He would never make a scout, of course, but he was large and capable of moving with some stealth. They would never get as close as someone smaller, like Vesper, might have done without him. His build was simply too much to allow for this to happen. It was, therefore, reasonable that his intention was not to act as the striking force. While all of his weight could certainly bring down a small deer, this plan relied on her vigilance.

The woman vanished, though he was able to scent her in the underbrush. Max tensed as one of the deer swung a dark eye up. An ear swiveled, a tail flagged. It was time.

Without a sound he bolted forward, tail a tight curl and ears pinned against his head. Their quarry was far enough from the others he was able to turn her sharply, forcing the doe from fleeing with her herd. His yellow eyes gleamed and his tongue lolled from his mouth, white teeth flashing as a singular snap was taken to drive her back towards death awaiting in the Optio’s jaws.

Vesper · 05-05-2012, 06:22 PM

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i suck at hunting posts xD

Moving through the vegetation, stepping slowly and keeping her tail straight out so that it wouldn’t rattle the bushes, Vesper waited for the other’s signal. She could see him now, large and white, creeping toward their target—and then the brush of his tail rose like a banner. Heeding this call to arms, she quickly twisted and emerged from the wooded area as the male snapped at their quarry, driving it toward her.

In her lupus form, it might have been better to worry the creature, to bite and snap until it wept blood and energy before making her kill. The secui form was superior to her skinny natural one, however, and she had no trouble leaping upwards, her jaws meeting once in the doe’s chest before relinquishing their grip for the neck. Copper was in her mouth, and she heaved the deer bodily downward as it kicked, waiting for Max to join in with the kill.

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