Outwitting and outsmarted
#1
[html]

WC: 339 OOC: Saqui is in optime, only thing about her is her arm is in a sling and has a "cast" on it. This is in the front of the hall, about midday


Saqui’s arm was healing well enough and she could move her shoulder, but not much more than the rest of her, but that did not stop the woman. She was almost as stubborn as her father and she knew that the pack was hurting. They didn’t have much in the way of food and most of the animals had left. Now she was far more interested in getting the pack the food they needed. So she scouted around lookign to see if there were herd of animals. What she found was astonishing. In the marshes there were moose trapped on a small island, The water level was still high and she didn’t think she could get mirage into the water without her getting stuck, but with the minds of her fellow packmates she was sure they could figure out how to get those moose. They were at least half a ton of meat each. Enough to keep the pack fed for a few days while the waters continued to receed.

Hurrying back to the town she felt her heart racing. She was excited, though she could not use her bow and arrow she was determined to be a part of this hunt especially since she found the animals. So instead of grabbing a bow she was to grab a spear that was salvaged inside the town hall, though she didn’t grab the weapon yet. She stood by the town hall where many were still refugees of the storm and howled. It was the howl for the hunt. Every wolf would know it and any able bodied would would hopefully come to it. She stood shifting her weight nervously. She was no leader, but she did know where the moose were, and though she had never been a hunt leader like her father, she had seen him hunt, and been directed in his hunts. He was a great man and she envied him. Now it was time to show that she too could be as her father was.

<style>
.saqhorse .ooc {font-style:italic; font-size:11px; }
.saqhorse p {padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; text-indent:35px;}
.saqhorse b {color:#7e633d; letter-spacing:0px; font-family:times new roman, times, serif; font-size:14px; }
.saqhorse {background-color:#c89e64; background-image:url(http://i910.photobucket.com/albums/ac30 ... e375-1.jpg); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:2px solid #627391; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#627391; letter-spacing:.4px; word-spacing:.3px; line-height:16px; width:500px; text-align:justify; padding:350px 0px 10px 0px; margin:0px auto; }
</style>
Table by Rose

[/html]
#2
[html]


(395)He'll send the horses away unless you want to use them in the hunt; Ayita is too small to ride and running loose.



art by crypsis

The fracture in his arm was bad enough to keep him off it. Anatole was irritable about the whole thing and after being informed it would be at least two moons before he was fully recovered, sulked for a full day. It was not so much that he was wounded as it was being trapped within his Optime form, something he rarely used. Of course, it now gave him ample time to become further adjusted to such a thing. With the hurricane gone recovery was what the Tribe now needed. Therefore Anatole adapted as was his nature and fell in line.

He continued to patrol, taking his horse more often, and was entertained by her young filly’s antics. Though still unsure of himself as a rider, he was adjusting to it and now much more comfortable. The trio circled wide along the borderline and avoided areas that Anatole had mentally noted as muddy, fearing that the horses might become stuck in the mess.

A howl rose from close by, and all three animals looked up at the sight of it. The little filly, a beautiful golden thing with a silly-looking pink nose that Anatole adored, let out a high whinny in response. Anatole chuckled and turned Bianca forward. The four-month old filly trotted after them, giddy at finally being able to run free now that the storm was over.

So the parade rolled into town and Anatole, conscious of it, dismounted before they arrived. He led the white mare by the loose hackamore that he had taken to using. It forced him to learn the mare’s patterns quickly in order to keep from harming her, and inadvertently aided his bond with her. By the time Ayita (the filly) was old enough to ride, he would no doubt be far more confident in his skills. Tall as he was his legs nearly touched the ground when he rode the mare and secretly hoped her filly would be larger. As if knowing she was being thought of, the palomino headbutted his leg.

With a grunt, Anatole lifted his hand towards the chocolate colored woman. She had also hurt her arm during the storm and much worse than his own. His was splinted and wrapped, but still somewhat useable. Osiyo,” he called, pleased by his progress with the language. It would be his third, once he mastered it.

<style>
#anatole-fullbody {
font-family:'times new roman', times, serif;
font-size:14px;
width:95%;
margin:0px auto;
line-height:18px;
}
#anatole-fullbody p {
text-indent:50px;
padding:0;
margin:10px 0;
}
#anatole-fullbody p.anatole-img {
text-align:center;
text-indent:0;
font-size:11px;
font-style:italic;
float:right; margin:5px;
}
#anatole-fullbody .txtooc {
text-align:left;
font-size:12px;
font-family:georgia, serif;
text-transform:none;
font-style:italic;
font-weight:normal; }
#anatole-fullbody .txtooc .word { font-weight:bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:normal;}
#anatole-fullbody b { letter-spacing:-.5px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; }
#anatole-fullbody u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; }
#anatole-fullbody b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; }
</style>[/html]
#3
OOC: Ev's in Optime form and pretty much unharmed :X

IC:
Things seemed to be settling, albeit gradually, following the overeager hurricane. Everly was beginning to relax again, to feel a little more settled in herself and her new home. The feeling of peace which had washed over her when she had stood on the other side of the borders what felt like months earlier was beginning to worm its way back into a mind which had been slightly frayed during the activity and uncertainty of the hurricane.

Everly was sat at the base of a tree, her chocolate dusted ankles loosely crossed as she surveyed the sky and the way the light of noon fell over the nearby buildings of the village. She rose quickly when Saqui's call reached her ears, trying to stay within the shade as she jogged towards the hall. Everly wasn't a particularly impressive hunter and in the past she had mostly operated alone. But that had been out of necessity, and she was no longer alone.

Saqui's arm was still in a sling, a faint nervous energy lingering around her. Everly wasn't sure if it was due to the imminent thrill of a hunt, the promise of a good stock of food at the end of it, or the presence of the horses being led by a black-haired male Everly wasn't familiar with. Her memory of Saqui was clear, as was the memory of the rearing stallion's hoof catching her arm.

Coming to a stop, the silky-furred Optime waved to both tribe members, realising halfway through that she was empty-handed, weaponless and unsure of how much use she could be. Her hands dropped and rested behind her back almost guiltily with a matching smile. The only real aspect of value Everly could see in herself at the moment was that she'd been left mostly untouched by the hurricane. She still had her speed and agility intact. “Good morn- afternoon?” the female greeted the small gathering, shooting a quizzical glance upwards to try and determine which time of day was more suitable.

(337 words)
#4
(Fires in halfling form )

Fire stretched her right hand was bent and twisted. Though no bones had broken, the tendons in it had torn. The healing had happened to fast making her once strong dominant hand, weak and next to useless. Her heart stirred at the thought of a hunt; it helped that she was on a high. Humming in her deep, gruff, horse halfling voice, she followed the call, her slightly crazed eyes flicking around. Coming up to the group she smiled knowing that the fun was about to begin. She tended to be a great hunter; if she didn't fall, or rise, suddenly. "So, where exactly are we headin'? And what tools are we usin'?" Her southern accent didn't help anyone understand her better.

Sighing Fire waited for an answer. She let her mind wonder to all the hunts she had been in. As a female, she was trained from a very young age, the elements of the hunt. Much like the lions from the other land, her pack was protected by males and fed by females. All able boded females old enough to sit still were expected to learn. It was just another female thing, like cloth work. Hearing someone speak she jumped to the present, and smiled at Everly. Fire had felt a connection ever since she pulled the wolf from the mud. Fire barly blamed Everly for her now mangled hand.
#5
[html]

WC: 302 OOC: So this post wasn't the best, PEOPLE ARE STILL WELCOME TO JOIN!!! I will post again on OCT 16th to get them out to the moosies!! No post order so don't wait for anyone if you want to post right away Smile


Saqui leaned on the wall of the town hall when she was greeted by the first newcomer, she grinned and nodded her head, then two more came. She decided to wait a few more minutes before she would explain what she found. When no more came she smiled at her packmates leaning on the spear now, standing straight and proud; “While out scouting for animals, I found something especially nice. In the marshes there are stranded moose, about three of them, and if we do things right we might be able to get one or two of them. They are stranded and the water is rather deep, but I am sure there is a way to do it.” She said, her accent showing. She used cherokee more than her english normally in the Great Tribe but seeing as many of the wolves here were english speakers.

“I do not think the horses will be of any use on this hunt with all the water and mud around. Is there anyone able to use a bow? There are some in the hall and some spears as well unless you feel more comfortable in your natural form.” She said looking around. There were two fully functional wolves at least that's what it looked like, and then one who's arm was in a sling like hers, though she didn't know how well he could use it. This would be a difficult hunt as it was and she wished there were others' coming but she was hopeful they would get at least one moose in the circumstances they were all in. She stood where she was, letting the man put away his horses and the women, if they wanted to, to grab a weapon or ready themselves in whatever way they needed to.

<style>
.saqhorse .ooc {font-style:italic; font-size:11px; }
.saqhorse p {padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; text-indent:35px;}
.saqhorse b {color:#7e633d; letter-spacing:0px; font-family:times new roman, times, serif; font-size:14px; }
.saqhorse {background-color:#c89e64; background-image:url(http://i910.photobucket.com/albums/ac30 ... e375-1.jpg); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; border:2px solid #627391; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size:12px; color:#627391; letter-spacing:.4px; word-spacing:.3px; line-height:16px; width:500px; text-align:justify; padding:350px 0px 10px 0px; margin:0px auto; }
</style>
Table by Rose

[/html]
#6
[html]


(321)



art by crypsis

Two others came to the call; a woman with seal-points that were similar to Saqui’s own, and he imagined that the two women might be able to play-cousins if they so chose. Far better than he and Claudius, Anatole thought with a faint smile. More recently, though, he had come to find that his cousin was more alike him in personality than previously suspected. What Anatole had mistaken for weak will was merely the effect of Claudius’ speech impediment, and once he began to overlook this, saw someone not only capable but willing to lead with patience and a loyalty that he (regrettably) had not developed until very recently.

Another woman in her bulkier Halfling form joined them, and though small, Anatole thought it was an adequate hunting party. They would certainly be able to function better with the two females who seemed untouched by the wrath of the weather. He frowned and looked at his own arm, wishing it better, but for now he was forced to remain on two legs.

So he listened attentively, taking in the knowledge, and was eager to see just how trapped the animals were. It would make the hunt easier to not need to chase them, but he worried that the trapped animals (massive as they were) could inflict serious damage if panicked. Some of what the woman said was lost on him; Anatole was still a novice speaker of the language. He gathered what she was saying well enough though, and this too pleased him.

“What about after?” He asked suddenly, trying to imagine the landscape. “We’ll need to drag the moose out of the mud, and it would be easier with a horse to help. I can keep them back while we hunt and bring them after.” The scout eyed the white mare, certain she would be an asset. It was, after all, why he had claimed her in the first place.

<style>
#anatole-fullbody {
font-family:'times new roman', times, serif;
font-size:14px;
width:95%;
margin:0px auto;
line-height:18px;
}
#anatole-fullbody p {
text-indent:50px;
padding:0;
margin:10px 0;
}
#anatole-fullbody p.anatole-img {
text-align:center;
text-indent:0;
font-size:11px;
font-style:italic;
float:right; margin:5px;
}
#anatole-fullbody .txtooc {
text-align:left;
font-size:12px;
font-family:georgia, serif;
text-transform:none;
font-style:italic;
font-weight:normal; }
#anatole-fullbody .txtooc .word { font-weight:bold; font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-style:normal;}
#anatole-fullbody b { letter-spacing:-.5px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 12px; }
#anatole-fullbody u { text-decoration: none; border-bottom:1px dotted #000000; }
#anatole-fullbody b.npc { letter-spacing:.5px; font-style:italic; font-weight:normal; }
</style>[/html]


Forum Jump: