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Unatsikanogeni Adahy · 06-30-2012, 11:30 AM

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Writing out the events of Unatsi's past to get a better feel for him.

War drums and battle cries, howls and snarls of aggression and pain. The shouts battered his ears and pummeled his stomach, and the tempo of the drum he'd once been in control of marked his overly-fast heartbeat. The spinning darkness served to make him feel nauseous, and he doubled over, gagging, his last meal splattering on the ground. His whiskers wrinkled back in disgust, but he was flooded with regret, too -- his last meal, maybe his last meal forever, sitting in the dirt while the Tribe and intruders waged battle around him.

Ayastigi!

The hoarse shout made Unatsikanogeni whirl around, his hands lifted and his claws unsheathed. The firelight flickered over the other, illuminating ghostly eyes -- bobbing red orbs coming ever closer. But the Cherokee title was proof that they were friend, not foe, and the red wolf swallowed a whimper as the older luperci all but crashed into him.

Adiya, the Tribe wolf snarled, and Unatsi flattened himself to the ground, his tail tucked between his legs as he looked desperately out at the fighting. Adasdelvdi diniyotli, came the last order, protect them, the tsosdidanuwi are taking them.

Blood dripped on his shoulders, and the Ayastigi struggled to get free of his Tribemate, who'd fallen unconscious -- or worse, but he didn’t want to think about that. His stomach heaved again, but only some water and drool came from his jaws this time. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his snowy-white arm, his namesake limb, and lifted his head. Whatever night vision he'd had as an advantage was stolen the instant he glanced toward the Great Fire, and then everything was fuzzy, but he staggered onward the best he could.

I am an Ayastigi, Unatsikanogeni chanted under his breath. I serve to protect the Tribe, to protect them like I needed to protect Uleyvsv. He broke into a run, leaning forward slightly, his tail waving behind him for balance when he turned and came upon the other warriors, the ones equal to and above him in rank. Orders were exchanged, threats shouted in Cherokee and English, the roar and shriek of the spirit guides joined to their warriors flooding the night air. The howl of the Katakanehi sounded above all else, but his hearing was reduced to the pulse of blood in his ears and the choked sound as he swallowed raw bile.

A wolf rose in his vision, and he lifted his head to speak to them -- then claws in his face, the force of the swipe enough to send him careening toward the ground. He landed and scrabbled in the dust, his vision swimming. He crawled on hands and knees away from the foe when the grey wolf pressed the attack, half his vision still blurry. He finally rolled over, but it was to expose his white stomach, his breath rattling from his chest as he stared in terror at the stranger. The pain and the blood originating near his eye reminded him of Uleyvsv, how the loner had shaken the burnt-red puppy. A ramble had smacked Unatsi in the face as he'd fled for his life, but this pain was so much more than the scrape of a thorn.

I -- I -- I give in, the Ayastigi babbled, I'm finished, really, don't --

A clawed kick to his ribs made him grunt and roll over, back onto all fours. He quickly scrambled back to his feet and ran, behind the huts, avoiding the fighting, his ears pressed so flat in his mane that he almost couldn't hear his Tribesmates' cries. He fled toward safety, because he didn't want to die like Uleyvsv, he didn't want to die, he wasn't going to stick around and let it happen.

Unatsikanogeni was never cut out to be a hero.

Lineart by ~Xinsha; colored by me!

Unatsikanogeni Adahy · 06-30-2012, 01:01 PM

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Spirit guide journey. Probably last post. Smile

His Tribesmates still glared at him as he shuffled by, rows upon rows of unforgiving eyes at any moment of the day. Unatsikanogeni need only glance up from his feet to see them, but then he'd just as quickly look down again. He was not officially an Itawamba -- he could take any form he chose, and avoided lupus for the its shameful connotation -- but he might as well have been for the respect his former friends gave him. When war came to the Great Tribe, he had failed in his duty as Ayastigi and, in fleeing the fight entirely, allowed some of the children to be captured by the enemy.

At first, the shame of this cowardice had permeated his entire being and made his steps gloomy and his heart heavy. But time passed, and he almost wanted to lift his head and meet their gazes now. After all, he was only at the beginning rank of his profession path. He did not bear the same responsibility as the Skilled members of that tier, so where had they been? He hadn't been properly trained and had never met with another luperci in battle before; fear was a normal reaction. And, he reasoned loudly (in his head), what if he had died? He was better use to the Tribe alive, so of course he had saved his own skin first!

Unatsi thought these thoughts, but when the prickle of indignant anger surfaced, it was in a sullen glare at the ground. The coward held his tongue still.

The kindling grew and grew, especially when he saw new Ayastigi rise to fill the place he'd left behind. Some had been only puppies during the battle, but something had hardened in their eyes. They wanted to avenge the loss of their brothers and sisters -- just like Unatsi had wanted to avenge his brother Uleyvsv. It was haunting to see, and he wondered how many of them would fail when their resolve faltered. Would the Tribe glare at them, too? Somehow he doubted it; they'd readily understand and forgive the young warriors.

The kindling grew and grew and grew, and it needed only a small spark to catch flame.

Usgaena! hailed a deep voice, and Unatsi whirled around, ears flattening. The wolf who'd called was a heavy-set individual, mottled with dark colors and streaked with green dyes. He didn't have the brightest face out there, but a hunter needed more instincts than brains.

Hiasgo hidoga niwesgv Unatsi, Kanunu? a thin she-wolf beside him asked.

Kanunu smiled a froggy smile and bowed toward Unatsi, who watched through narrowed eyes, his tongue literally held between his teeth. Oh, uyoayelvdi, Unatsi. I was struck in battle, so this ear is damaged. He gave one small but undamaged ear a flick, and then twitched it in a more erratic fashion. A bit twitchy, too. I'll listen more carefully, snow-arm!

And so the ridicule passed from the realm of shame to childish taunting. Kanuna and his skinny sister had taunted him for his strange coloring from a young age, and so it was to be expected, but... Unatsi turned away quickly, his eye twitching. He could always count on an Itse or any other adult to bat away any mean-tongued youngsters, but this went deeper. He was an adult, he was not appreciated, and he was being attacked for faults not under his control.

Unatsikanogeni Adahy knew then. He would leave.

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He waited for night to fall, his claws fidgeting with the leather ties of the sack. The possessions within were but few, only some salted meat to last him a ways and some first-aid supplies he hoped he'd remember how to use. He brought no weapons, knowing he didn't know how to use them, and also knowing that they would be missed before he was. His brother's clumsily-fashioned bead necklace was inside too, but after a moment of thought, Unatsi tied it around his white wrist.

If there was one thing he remembered from being an Ayastigi, it was the schedule of the watch. The guards had been doubled since the attack, but he still knew where each one was, which direction they faced, and when they changed. It was an easy feat slipping past them, his sack slung over his shoulder and his eye twitching with a smile.

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Unatsi missed his bedding the first night, but the survival drive of the feral wolf overtook the luperci whimpering for a softer place to rest. He reclined in the itchy dry grass and slept, waking often when a cricket chirped too loud or the wind tickled the blades against his ribs.

And the second day it rained, forcing the former Tribe wolf to seek shelter. His fingers were too clumsy to fashion the leafy, makeshift tarp he had seen the craftsmen erect with ease. By the time he found a tree thick enough to shelter him anyway, the rain stopped.

Unatsikanogeni walked as the sun rose and set, his large ears constantly swiveling, his claws occasionally coming up to rake through the tangle that was his mane. He went through the meat quickly and shifted into lupus to hunt rabbits and mice, now that he was away from the judging eyes of the Tribe.

Away from their eyes -- and their ears. Unatsi had not spoken much since the kidnapping, other than a few halting words in defense or a stammering question in daily life, but at least some wolves had tolerated his presence enough to let him get out all the words. They built in him, flowing over the dam he'd cultivated to spite his former comrades.

So he talked to himself. Often. And loud.

Almost a week's journey from the Tribe, I can't figure out how many miles that might be. Feels like a lot; my pads are almost worn off. I'm thinner, too. Would be a good thing for Kanunu, to lose a few pounds, but I'm a stick as it is. Except sticks are more useful. You can poke someone in the eye with a stick. That's what I need, a stick!

His attempts at finding a good pointy stick ended in failure, and his Cherokee babbling grew sharper, interlaced with dark vows about what he'd do if he ever found a good stick.

Unatsi hadn't really slept in a while.

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His voice had turned into weak croaking, his throat tight and painful. Constant babbling to keep himself awake had that side effect, and his thirst made him falter even as sleep deprivation sent him stumbling and twitching each time he moved his eyes too quickly. One side of his face curled in a grimace when he bumbled into a tree, and he raked his claws down the sides of the trunk.

Not a stick, Unatsi murmured, resting his cheek against the bark. Smells good, though, really nice sap -- always a bit sticky, but I liked to stick it in Uleyvsv's fur and spike it up. He reached for the beads around his wrist, twisting them. Maybe you would have grown up to be a good warrior, Uley. I should've been the one to die -- but I don't want to die, I never wanted to die. I only want to be okay, and that's why I'm here now...

He closed his eyes, dozing on two legs for a while, until an ant bit him and sent him shuffling onward. He tried to lift his leg to rub at his stinging ankle, but this in combination with a downward slope sent him tumbling, yelping and grabbing at the foliage he passed. His wrist slammed against a rock, breaking the bracelet instantly; beads tumbled down the rocks with him, even as he cried out and tried to grab them in his hands.

When Unatsi landed, it was face-first into a river. He sputtered as he resurfaced, gripping what beads he had in his palm and staring at the cliff he'd fallen off of. A trembling had set throughout his entire body, and he twitched again as he craned his neck to see the sky. It was only after the sun near burned away his vision that he realized he was in water, and immediately he stuck his face back in and gulped it down.

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Once the man dried off, he took what beads he'd saved and began to braid them into his hair. His shaking had stopped enough that he succeeded in his task, and he gave the few loose braids a pat as he stood again, traveling uphill to a little cave where he might sleep.

Unfortunately for him, the cavern was occupied.

A confused rumble thundered from the corner, where the darkness was born. The male froze, his hackles rising, his tired body quaking. He started to scoot backward, his tail curling between his legs, as the bear emerged from the shadows. It hoisted its head up, scraping the roof of the shelter, and growled.

NOT DONE :|

Lineart by ~Xinsha; colored by me!

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