Into the Maw
#1
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Word Count :: 261 OOC: NOM, Sira is in Secui form, but being a jackal she's still pretty small Smile


Sira could feel herself getting stronger and in that the presense of the horrible wolves were lost to her little by little but she still felt they were there somewhere ready to attack her and take her back. She was becoming ready for it though. The longer they took the quicker and stronger the female got. That was good, because she would never be caught as weak as she had been before. She was learning new things everyday and learning to be a pack beast after her life of solitude. It was hard and strange and she still had some wariness of others she was learning to trust her packmates quicker than anyone else.

Sira was out in the hunting grounds. She was unable to kill the large hooved animals that lived here. But the rabbits were no match for her, though she was chasing …. butterflies. She liked their taste and they were much harder to get. SHe had an orange and black one in sight and was jumping to bite at it, but it kept flitting away. She yipped at it and tried again, this time she felt something. A leg, but it pulled right off and the butterfly went swirling around in a panic knowing its life was in danger. Sira tried again and this time the whole of the butterfly was clamped in her jaws and its life snuffed out in one bite. She shook her head because the powder on the wings was always the worst part but she didn’t mind. She loved bugs.

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#2
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http://imageshack.us/a/img826/9156/valtable3.jpg) bottom center no-repeat; background-color: #ffca8b;">

I'll drown out the shadows
by making some light
but I still can't forget
all those wrongs not made right.


The sun shone down, golden and warm, upon the best hunting spot in Sangi'lak's territory. beneath the trees, sunlight poured down in rays like liquid, pooling upon the floor. Valtiere was bound for one of the more open areas, newly-made throwing spear in hand. He'd fashioned it from the straightest piece of wood he could find, carving and wearing the wood to make it smooth and even straighter. The tip was a formidable piece of stone, chipped into a leaf-like shape with a cruel point of the end.


Valtiere had seen throwing spears used before, and even made one or two in his old home, but he'd never actually used one before. Currently the stone tip was covered and tied with a soft piece of rabbit pelt; and as he walked, he tossed the spear lightly ahead of him as he went, retrieving it and then tossing it again down the trail in an attempt to get used to the throwing motion. He really had no clue if he was doing it right, but that was the point - today was all about practice. Of course, it'd be nice to catch something too.


The talk of possible violence with Vinátta concerned him - bloodshed was the last thing he wanted. He'd left his first home to get away from exactly that, and returning to such a lifestyle was hardly an appealing prospect. His second home, with the Nomads, had taught him virtues he'd never known about in his birth pack. He wanted to create things, not bring about destruction - and yet, he understood the importance of being prepared, the importance of being able to defend one's home from outside threats. He was hardly naive enough to think they didn't exist. His own, improvised style of knife fighting would hardly suffice, so the Mareck was determined to try his hand at a few other things. Throwing spears were certainly easy enough to make - and well-suited to his lithe, lean form. A bow might also make a good choice, but he had never made one of those before, and he wanted to try this out - hunting seemed like as good a way as any.


As he broke out of the treeline, he spotted one of his pack mates - the small, jackal-looking girl who'd had a kitten with her at the meeting. Picking up his spear from where it lay in the grass, he waved in greeting and began to make his way toward her, watching her as he did. She leapt and twisted through the air in Secui form, and at first he couldn't tell what she was doing - perhaps some strange sort of dance? As he drew closer, though, he spied the butterflies, and a smile spread across his face. "Good afternoon! Having a bit of a snack, or just a game?" he inquired.


Word Count: 479
Form: Optime
Walk "Talk!" Think
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#3
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Word Count :: 325 OOC: sorry about the delay, Sad


She was chewing on the butterfly happily licking her chops in the process when she heard someone come up behind her, she nearly jumped out of her skin and she lowered her head in what looked like shame, but it was her way to say that she was helpless, which she was in a way, and that if he played with her, his sport would be in vain. But when she realized who he was, and what he was saying she lifted her head, though her tail tucked low, and she was apprehensive, she would have ran if she knew this man wasn’t pack, but he was and X’yrin told her it was best to trust her judgment in her members and Sira’s packmates. She wanted to trust Rin’s judgement, and just speaking to him without running was all she could do now. She still couldn’t help but fear him, and worry about if he would take her to the bad wolves again.

“Eating, it’s good for you, want some?” Shea asked looking around, but at this time of year there were not as many butterflies and the one had been the only in the area, she shrugged but turned back to him questioningly; “I’m Sira, who are you?” She asked a scared smile on her face. This was how she was paying her pack back for now until her training worked out. Then she would be a scout, but to be friendly to her packmates was the best she could do at the moment. She looked at the spear in his hands and tilted her head in question and looked back up at him expectantly. She had seen a weapon like that, except it didn’t have a pioint to it. She’d learned from one of the other members how to use it. She wondered if this was used the same way, or differently because of the pointed end.

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