02-16-2009, 09:20 PM
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A careful exhalation brought him to that exact moment; he was the hunter. He secui form was much burlier than either of his other forms, more like a tank than a svelte sailor or a lean wolf, and sometimes he even scared himself. He shook himself, the sounds of his jowls moving with the motion of his head audible over the sounds of his fur swooshing gently over his pelt, and he only grew from there. The transformation took only a few moments before the man collapsed into a sit, not bothering with his clothing just yet as he looked down at the small, not yet full grown deer he had caught not several hours ago in the trees and dragged to this, the log he had sat on prior on the beach.
By then fighting off his hunger to bring it to that particular place from which he could observe the ship that would be there a month's time had taken a toll on him, and he removed a knife from his knapsack and immediately set to skinning the small doe, setting the removed skins aside — they were not of amazing quality but they would do for something, he was sure — to save for later, perhaps to use for sheets on his bed in the mansion.
For Akello Paxton was a man of comfort who sought more human luxuries than some coyotes, but did not complain when not given them. Had he the wood for a fire he might have considered cooking the meat (it had a particularly smoky flavour after cooked that made his mouth water all the more than raw meat did) but, not given such material, he opted for cutting small squares of choice muscle meat and eating them one at a time, savouring the melt-in-your-mouth flavour of the sparse fat mixed in as he chewed the cubes thoughtfully, eyes trained on the horizon.
Unfortunately Akello didn't have the means to devour the entire deer himself when he would finally be through with it. He would either need to cut the rest of the meat into strips and bring them back to the mansion to hang and dry from his window or he would need to give it out and share. Most likely the pirate would do both; the more help he could give to the clan, the better, in his mind.
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A careful exhalation brought him to that exact moment; he was the hunter. He secui form was much burlier than either of his other forms, more like a tank than a svelte sailor or a lean wolf, and sometimes he even scared himself. He shook himself, the sounds of his jowls moving with the motion of his head audible over the sounds of his fur swooshing gently over his pelt, and he only grew from there. The transformation took only a few moments before the man collapsed into a sit, not bothering with his clothing just yet as he looked down at the small, not yet full grown deer he had caught not several hours ago in the trees and dragged to this, the log he had sat on prior on the beach.
By then fighting off his hunger to bring it to that particular place from which he could observe the ship that would be there a month's time had taken a toll on him, and he removed a knife from his knapsack and immediately set to skinning the small doe, setting the removed skins aside — they were not of amazing quality but they would do for something, he was sure — to save for later, perhaps to use for sheets on his bed in the mansion.
For Akello Paxton was a man of comfort who sought more human luxuries than some coyotes, but did not complain when not given them. Had he the wood for a fire he might have considered cooking the meat (it had a particularly smoky flavour after cooked that made his mouth water all the more than raw meat did) but, not given such material, he opted for cutting small squares of choice muscle meat and eating them one at a time, savouring the melt-in-your-mouth flavour of the sparse fat mixed in as he chewed the cubes thoughtfully, eyes trained on the horizon.
Unfortunately Akello didn't have the means to devour the entire deer himself when he would finally be through with it. He would either need to cut the rest of the meat into strips and bring them back to the mansion to hang and dry from his window or he would need to give it out and share. Most likely the pirate would do both; the more help he could give to the clan, the better, in his mind.