[html]  (p - Brennt - Halifax... long, mostly to explain what she's been up to for the past month x_x)
 With reluctance she had temporarily abandoned her mission to find Gabriel, and with great enthusiasm she'd embraced her new objective: to explore the city, claim some workshop or structure as her own, and begin a rather ambitious project: getting a car in working condition. With surprise she noted the moon's cycle had begun anew; so absorbed in her own matters she'd become that she hadn't seen anybody in about a month. Although she had much progress to show for it, it was certainly time for some company.
Nearly a week of surveying had gone into this project before she even thought of starting any real work. The problem with cars was most of them didn't work. Fortunately, Ross had taught her to combine parts from one car with another--eventually, you were bound to find enough cars for scrap to create one functional model. This required selecting a relatively common model, however. Tears had welled in her eyes after she left behind a Porsche in near-mint condition... unfortunately, it hadn't started, and there were no others anywhere to use for scrap. It was a right shame.
Still, she'd found another model that would certainly suffice. A black Toyota Corolla was nestled away in a garage, sheltered from the elements and still in decent condition. Scrap cars for that model were a dime a dozen, and she'd already begun to look into what parts on hers needed to be replaced. She'd found the keys inside the adjoining house out in the suburban sprawl of the city inside a dead man's pocket. Picking them out of the skeleton's jeans had been awkward at best, and she'd quickly moved to dispose of the corpse (and any others inside).
The actual house was in poor condition and she rarely ventured inside--she more or less lived in the two-car garage. She stashed her most precious belongings in the trunk of the car and neatly arranged any tools she'd found in the garage, which she also kept locked and accessed via a side door (the large bay was a hassle to manually open). Books--including a manual on her car--were lined neatly on a shelf on the wall. Although the car still didn't run, she suspected there wasn't too much wrong with it and by the start of summer she'd have a functional vehicle. She already siphoned quite a bit of gas from the other dead cars that littered the streets and stored the containers along the wall in her garage.
Chest puffed up proudly at her little space, complete with a comfortable couch in the corner (where Charger was presently curled up, she decided to leave him there in peace), as she decided it was finally time to get out. The sun would be rising shortly and she wanted to really move. Maz retired the car's key to a hook on the wall and placed a few goodies in her satchel. Grasping the key to the garage in one hand, she stepped outside and locked the door behind her. She then placed the key in a pocket in her bag and situated it neatly on her body. Then, she began to down-shift--it was much more convenient to travel this way. Once she was on all fours, she trotted down the path to the street and began making her way out of the city toward the surrounding countryside. Before too long, the first rays of sunlight were filtering across the sky.
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In a way, it was fascinating. The cans were dull in coloration, not shiny and new as they once had been, but they still entertained Brennt's dim mind. Fascination was rarely felt within the large wolf, he just wasn't curious enough to experience or haphazardly come across it most of the time. Nonetheless, tipping the trash receptacles on their sides and sending them rolling down what ancient humans would have called a drive way was plenty to keep him occupied this morning. He had wandered into this place some time ago, and though he was surrounded by things he did not understand, he hadn't been all that interested until he had inadvertently knocked one of the hollow cylinders onto its side. He liked the sound, but not nearly as much as he liked the other sound, the one it made when it rolled downhill.
A big, stupid grin was plastered across his face as nudged the latest can onto its side, and let it begin its journey down the longest slope he had found so far. He probably looked stupid, but that wasn't something he considered when he was alone. No...being self-conscious would never occur to him when on his own, not now, and not one the trail away from Nowry Village, either. He had discovered that, save for the inability to sate his hunger for children, he was much happier when on his own. As an animal, he was fully functional. He could feed himself. He could hunt. He could stalk. He could find good sleeping places and steer clear of animals more dangerous than him. No, it was only when in communities of wolves that he was deficient. Only when around them that he became distressed. And only when around them that the hunger grew very quickly. Over the last few weeks, he had come to an unspoken, subconscious understanding that his taste for puppies would not go away, and that it was not a one or two-time event. Sooner or later, he would always need more. After slaughtering the coyote children, though, he was satisfied again for a time.
Suddenly, as he chanced to hang his head, looking beneath one of the strange wheeled gadgets the humans parked on their slopes, that he discovered something momentous. The larger channel, the river of tar, it was a slope too! But a much bigger one! If he tipped a can onto that, it might roll for minutes and minutes, instead of a few seconds! Quickly, he grabbed one of his cans and turned it so that its rolling side faced down the street. Laughing stupidly, he let it go, and it began to roll. Soon enough, he was chasing it down the street, tongue lolling out all the way.
[html] (He's so cute when he's not devouring children!)
Clang! Dunrwhirwhirwhir. Maserati's jaunt paused and the she-wolf tipped her head to one side as she considered the bizarre noises sounding further down the street. They were somewhat regular and rhythmic--obviously deliberate. Picking up the pace, she came to the crest of a hill in time to see a male wolf playing in an abandoned driveway.. with a trash can, of all things! Although she couldn't discern much other than his soft grey-brown fur and towering form, she could tell that he was having a blast. A soft, friendly smile crept across her face and her tail began to sway behind her. It had never actually occurred to her before to use the bins for anything other than their intended purpose: a convenient storage place for waste until it could be transported elsewhere.
It didn't take long to figure out what he was doing, though. As the bin rolled down the small hill, it made quite an interesting noise. Quickly looking side to side, she spotted an abandoned receptacle in a neighbouring yard. She trotted over to it, inspecting it carefully, before pulling on one of the handles with her teeth. It made no noise as she dragged it across the overgrown grass and out of the corner of her eye she spotted the male moving toward a hill. Pulling harder and faster, she let out a quick, playful bark. Hold up, I want to play, too! she exclaimed gleefully.
Let's race! Ack, he'd already gotten a head start! Lining up her bin quickly in the centre of the street, she began to push it, encouraging it to roll faster and faster. It caught up to some extent, but for the most part it was too little, too late. Screw it! In a quick move, Maserati ran down the hill, using gravity and momentum to her advantage. With a single elegant leap she bounded over the rolling can and charged further down the hill. Perhaps her trash can wouldn't win, but she was gaining on the large wolf quickly. Her ears fell back as she heard her bin strike a rock behind her and go flying off course to the side, where it gradually slowed. Sparing a split second glance over her shoulder she laughed aloud. Unfortunately, she'd gained more ground than she originally realised, and now she was on a direct collision course with the other wolf! Although she tried her best to skid to a halt, the hill wouldn't have any of it. She stumbled into him and went rolling a short ways down the hill--it was fortunate that by now, they were nearly at the bottom. Standing up quickly, tail racing behind her, she offered him a sheepish grin. Goodness, mate, Oi got carried away! He probably wasn't any worse for the wear, or so she hoped. Whatcyha call that game, eh?
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Focused as he was, he didn't catch the girl's call the first time around. The sound of the rolling was all he cared about, and all he noticed for many moments after it had begun. He seemed to remember hearing something, though, once the accompanying sound of another rolling can sounded behind him. He wasn't surprised by it, at any rate, but rather connected to the sound from before, the one he had ignored. He only spared it a passing glance, before returning his attention to his own can. He didn't know yet if this was someone trying to de-can him, or beat him, or what else, but because she seemed to have a can herself, it never occurred to him that it might be a form of mockery. That was strange, because it's the sort of thing Pallok might have done, but still, he remained at ease, even after the introduction of the new can-roller.
When the hill began to bottom out, he heard the padding of the nearing girl, and felt the jarring collision as she crashed into his backside. She sprawled on beyond him, but being considerably larger, he was only destabilized enough that he ended up skidding to a halt in a half-sit. He knew that he wasn't hurt, and the way she sprang back almost immediately told him that she hadn't been hurt, either. While he was initially stern and distrustful, her grin and tone convinced him shortly that she was a playmate, and not a villain of any kind.
"Carried?" He looked over to the left and saw her can stuck on the curb. He then turned to look back at her, and remembered how his mother sometimes used that word in a way where it meant something different, and nodded emphatically. "Oh, yeah." As if this were an understandable answer to her turn of phrase, he began walking over to his own can, which had rolled several dozen feet further than the two of them, before being caught by a young bush, one which had taken seed after the departure of the humans.
"Um..." he considered for a moment. For some reason he wasn't aware of, he liked this little black wolf, even though she had hurt him a little bit. For that reason, he didn't want to simply tell her that he didn't know a name for the game, but rather seem smarter, and have a name picked out.
"I call it the Rolly-Game," he said, with a tone of certainty that he knew was fake. In truth, he hoped it was creative. The last thing he wanted was for his new playmate to think he was stupid.
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In general, Maserati had a tendency to simply radiate positive energy. The girl didn't have a malicious bone in her body and she took pride in showing it--she did a damn good job, too, as evinced by the fact even naturally distrustful folks like Giggle or Talitha would tolerate her presence. At the same time, she kept herself in check from becoming too bubbly or obnoxious; she could usually tell when enough was enough and back off. It wasn't as though she couldn't take life seriously, it was just that she couldn't really see the fun in that. The reasons why anybody would choose to wallow around in their own sorrow or be a perpetual grump eluded her... and she tended to avoid those people. She could be down to earth and still have a bloody good time.
Regardless, it was her natural inclination to assume the best in people. He hadn't snapped or grown defensive at her sudden appearance; as such, he was labelled as an alright guy. (Not that she would have suspected such a thing to begin with, what playing wolf grew upset at the introduction of a playmate?) That was a good thing, too, for up close he was even bigger than he'd seemed before! He easily had half a foot on her and at least fifty pounds. Maserati was pretty used to everyone being bigger than her (especially males), but this guy deserved a trophy or something. Not shifted at all, he weighed more than any of her forms!
Her smile broadened at his title for the game: it was simple, yet straightforward, much like any other game wolves played... keep-away, tag, etc. Sounds logical! she remarked. Of all the things that'll roll, Oi'd say yeh found the best and noisiest, she laughed through lightly accented tones. Balls would roll, but they didn't make noise. Tires didn't really make noise either, plus they fell down too easily. He really had found something here, or so she thought. Besides, the cumbersome size of the trash cans made it more interesting setting them up. So how 'bout yehself? Oi'm Maserati.. or Maz for short.
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She was really tiny. The little black wolf inspired what little curiosity he had for a few moments as he tried to decide what he thought about her. He was a little confused that she was similar to other females he'd met, but very unlike any of them in other ways. She wasn't small like the puppies he ate, and she wasn't old like the females he tried to mate with, nor was she aggressive like the one he'd met on the border of the pack territory. She was somehow between the first two, and the polar opposite of the last one, being incredibly nice and not trying to make him stop what he was doing. No, this girl was far different from anyone else he'd met so far, and his interaction with her felt like it would turn out better than it had with anyone else.
Despite all of the positive feeling he got about her, there were drawbacks. At first, he didn't know what she was saying. Furrowing his brow, it took him longer to figure out what she meant than it usually did for normal wolves, which meant that there was a significant gap between when she finished talking and when he started. The long 'L' word she used wasn't one he knew, and the way she talked was different than the way most wolves talked. At first, he disliked that because it made her harder to understand, but after a moment, it made him smile, because he was that way too. It was because he sounded different that other wolves could tell he was stupid...maybe they treated her bad for being different, too? Maybe that was why she seemed so nice, because people were mean to her, and she knew how it felt. She even complimented him on his game! She was by far the nicest person he'd met since Nowry Village.
"Maser--Maseruh...Maz?" He tried the name, and although he only half understood the import of the phrase 'Maz for short', he went ahead and cut the name down to a length he could manage. Having not properly understood the phrase, he proceeded to use it incorrectly a few moments later. "I'm Brennt. Brennt for short." If it didn't sound so dumb, one might wonder if he was joking. As it stood, the introductions were made, and the two new friends stood across from one another, black and gray-brown.
"There are more rolly...roll...ers, up there. If we want, we can go up and roll them down again. I have a bunch more up there." It was an unusual feeling for him, trying to impress someone as a friend and not as a potential mate, nor simply to avoid embarrassment. He genuinely wanted to be liked, contradicting the string of incidents that had led to his being here, today. It was a testament to the simplicity of his mind that he could go from slaughter and battle to care-free fun so quickly...and all it had cost to buy the last few days of bliss, and the friendship that was budding now, were the lives of a few hapless coyotes.
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Ah; the bliss of ignorance. Under no normal circumstance would she choose to associate with a murderer... and perhaps normally, she'd be a bit baffled by a simpleton. For now, though, any mental slips he made could be wrote off as things simply said in jest, or perhaps a degree of shyness. She had no way to know of his bizarre habits or previous prosecution--although the obsidian yearling was intellectual and intuitive, she was no mind reader. Perhaps it was for the best.
His difficulty with her name was interpreted as little else other than it being foreign--although the individual syllables weren't all that complicated as they might be in German or Polish or something (she thought they flowed together nicely, actually), it was still a long name and perhaps a little more complicated than it needed to be. Three syllables were just inconvenient... it made it all the more natural to shorten it to one. His name was already there, as he cleverly pointed out a moment later. Ah, indeed! Well met, Brennt, she offered jovially.
The red-marked girl considered his offer for a moment. Well, finding more at the start of the hill certainly seemed easier than trying to drag their used cans all the way back to the top. Thus, it did not take her very long to reach a decision and with a wink she tagged him lightly on the chest with her snout before taking off up the hill in a sprint. She could only assume he would follow behind. By the time she reached the summit she was panting heavily, tongue lolled out to one side. Her eyes darted about excitedly as she looked for his elusive stockpile of waste bins--or rolly rollers, as the case may be.
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The playful antics of the small black, red-traced female were a wholly new and delightful thing to Brennt. After being tagged, he ran to catch up with her, but found that she was much faster than he. While he would have found this to be a source of anger of jealousy had it been most other people, because it was Maz, and he liked Maz, he was just amazed at her speed. He was not a slow runner, he could keep up with a lot of people even though he wasn't built for high speeds, but hers was well and above any speed he'd seen before. When he finally caught up with her (he was panting too), he thought he should tell her so.
"You're fast," he said, a small degree of awe apparent in his voice. "Real fast. I've never seen a person go faster than you." His tone, which sounded as slow as it always did, didn't seem so out of place for one who was dumbed with awe. He looked back down to where they had been, and where they were now, and tried retroactively to measure how long it had taken her to cover the distance. This was clearly beyond his ability to process, but he knew that if he could find the answer, it would have been impressive.
"If you want, you could have the green one," he said, indicating one of the trash bins he had been using earlier. "It's the rolliest. I like the red one, though, because it makes the best sound." In truth, the red one did make a different sound, but he only liked it the best because it was the first one he had found. It had been the accidental bumping into and subsequent accidental rolling of the red rolly-roller which had been his initial discovery that all of the human rollers were fun to roll. As such, he felt a certain fondness for the red one which was not shared for all of the later additions to his collection.
"The green one goes fastest, though, and you go fast, too." He wasn't entirely certain how to say what he meant to say, but he hoped that she saw the same connection that he did. Clearly, since she was the fastest, it made sense for her to have the fastest roller.
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To his credit, Maserati was slightly surprised how well he managed to keep up with her at all. It was somewhat unexpected for his gargantuan stature and as far as she was concerned, no less impressive than her own ability to move. He had a lot more mass to haul around and it really probably took quite a bit of work. The lithe girl was clearly built for speed--sometimes she forgot how much of an outlier she really was. It had always just been a part of her, just as his size had likely always been a part of him. Absently she wondered exactly how much food he had to eat to fuel himself; half a deer in one sitting, perhaps? It was certainly hard to imagine him sustaining himself on woodchucks and hares as she usually did.
She smiled sheepishly at his comment--although the girl clearly wasn't opposed to drawing some degree of attention to herself, she was still rather modest when it came to her own strengths or skills. Yep! Oi was named after a kind of machine that moves really fast; fittin', eh? she mused aloud. Though Oi must say yeh move pretty good for how big yeh are, too. She imagined with him around, she would always feel pretty safe... it seemed unlikely that anybody would want to mess with such a large wolf, although as she looked closer she noticed several cuts and small scars along his body. Neither her eyes nor thoughts lingered very long on this subject, however; he was no more worse for the wear than Anselm was, at least.
At his suggestion she nodded enthusiastically. Perhaps they wouldn't race each other this time, but she would race her own individual bin. Green's an excellent colour, m'friend, she added with a snicker. Brennt seemed relatively laid back... perhaps he'd either know what she meant already or be willing to find out in a bit. Maserati was very pleased with her company and wanted to keep the day rolling in such a positive direction. By now the sun was past the horizon and fully exposed and she couldn't think of much else she would rather be doing. She'd been cooped up in her little garage far too long, it seemed. She'd have to make more of an effort to get out and see people.
Using her nose to nudge her roller down the driveway and into the main street, she nipped at it lightly as it veered slightly off course, then began to trot along side it as it gained momentum. As it rolled further down the hill she leapt back and forth over it--this was the first time she'd practised leaping over a non-stationary hurdle to any extent, and it was an interesting challenge indeed. Sometimes the bin hit her and lost speed, but she would simply chase it again so she could do it some more. Were she feeling more adventurous she might consider going for a ride down one of the smaller hills inside... but that seemed a little dangerous with no hands to brace herself, plus then the contents of her bag may very well wind up scattered throughout the street.
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The word machine was unknown to Brennt, and the special relevance behind green went over his head entirely. One way or the other, though, it made him happy that she was pleased with the one he had offered her. The good-feeling of gift-giving was new to him, and so he savored the moment, though he didn't really know that was what he was doing. He watched her as she tipped her green roller into motion, and as she ran after it as it gained speed. She was fast enough to leap over it, a feat which was wholly out of his range of consideration, and which was even more amazing than just her speed. He looked down at his roller, and got it in his head to try jumping over it, but fear began to tighten his throat, and it took him several moments to wave that bad feeling away. He couldn't jump over a fast-moving roller, that was crazy. Maz could do it because she was special in that way. Brennt was not.
As if trying to prove that everything was still okay, and that he could have fun even if he couldn't replicate her feat, he tipped the red rolly-roller into the street, and let it begin down the hill, running to keep up, delighting in the variant on the same sound that it made. By the time he got down to the bottom of the hill where Maz was, he was tired all over again, but the stupid grin was on his face. The rollers had made him forget about his inadequacies all over again, and he was just happy to be around someone who didn't think he was stupid.
"I'm hungry," he said rather suddenly, his eyes opening wide and looking around, as if they might find something to eat just lying around. Rather, he was seeking woods where fair-sized prey might reside, since he knew that large open spaces like one found between a lot of the structures here weren't favorable to rabbits and raccoons and such on account of wolves like himself and raptors. "Do you want to hunt, Maz?" It was a straight-forward question, like everything Brennt said, there were very few superfluous words, largely because he didn't know how to construct sentences that weren't simple and direct. Hopefully, Maz didn't dislike that, because lots of wolves that did let him know about it, in subtle ways that he could detect, even if he didn't know how to describe them with words.
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It was pretty interesting listening to the sound of rolling trash cans echoing down the long abandoned streets. It was a hollow sound that stood out all the more in the relative quiet of the old city. In her mind's eye she saw a curious human peeking through the curtains draped in front of one of the windows of the houses that lined the street--what would that human think to see them now? Once upon a time, this was a place of concrete and 'civilisation;' cars wondered past, every Monday morning trash trucks rumbled through and collected waste from the very bins they were pushing along now... certainly they'd never suspect to see their common waste receptacles blossoming into delightful toys for creatures of the wild. It was all pretty preposterous and the thought alone made her laugh somewhat nervously to herself as she ran and danced down the hill. It was kind of uncomfortable to contemplate such a thing... twenty years from now, what would be running down these streets then?
Flopping over the bin once it had reached the bottom of the hill and come approximately to a stop, she balanced on her tiptoes and rocked back and forth over the smooth plastic surface before peering around for her companion. He'd caught up to her and she sloppily slid off the trash can and landed on the other side. It was a very awkward manoeuvre but she didn't care. At the mention of food she perked up a bit. Well, Oi've got some treats now, she mentioned, casually gesturing toward her satchel, but they're the kind that make yeh even hungrier the more yeh eat. Plus they make yeh lazy and too happy to hunt. So maybe we oughta bring somethin' down first, if yeh are interested, she offered. She was more than willing to share her goodies--she'd left the Outpost with plenty of kief to hold her over. It was a kind of parting gift from Gale and the rest of her family.
So what are yeh up for 'n where do yeh propose to find it? she wondered. So far, she'd mostly gone on small hunting expeditions just beyond the city limits, where squirrels and other small prey were plentiful. Between the two of them, though, they'd need something more substantial. As she hadn't really had a good reason to hunt for deer (or goat or whatever), she hadn't even bothered to look for their regular haunts. It was pretty hard for her to take down something so big by herself, even if she were half-shifted. With Brennt, though, she was confident they could take down something good. It'd be nice to eat to her heart's content for once, most certainly.
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Maserati's words confused him, though for the first time he was sure that she wasn't confusing him on purpose. He couldn't remember the number of times Pallok had talked in crazy circles meant to leave him completely bemused and unable to follow the other male's meaning. Often when it was an order being given or instructions on what Brennt was supposed to do. He had hated Pallok, but hadn't done anything back to him, he'd been good like his mother had taught him, until his rival (this being too generous a term...bully and victim might have described their relationship more accurately) had come to kill him for eating Hylfi's litter. That day he had gotten even with Pallok. He'd hurt Fern, as well, though he'd never hated her like he'd hated her mate.
Still...he didn't know if Maz was joking with him, leading him on, or something else. Food that makes one hungrier the more they eat? That makes them so happy they don't want to hunt anymore? That last part sounded scary, but he liked feeling happy, and anything that could make him that happy had to be worth a try. He tilted his head at her, his dull eyes searching hers trying to decipher whether or not she was being honest with him. Eventually, he decided she was being honest, and that she maybe even had this amazing snack with her. She carried a bag with her, after all. Brennt had seen those before, the population of Nowry Village had preferred human tools, abodes, and two legs above four.
"If we get prey, then we can eat the snack? he asked bluntly, like a dog might if it was hungering for a treat. Indeed, the more he thought about it, the more he wanted the food she had described earlier, but he was also hungry now, and she said it would make him even hungrier. They would need to hunt first, something with enough food that even if they got hungry again, they could have more still uneaten. He turned his head in the direction he had come from. There was some larger game outside of this place, game he hadn't been in the mood to hunt for before, after his fight with the wolves from the sandy beach. Once she affirmed, he thought, he'd go and bring down the food as fast as possible, though that might mean he didn't have any time for talking.
[html] (Short, didn't know what else to do! Feel free to powerplay them finding game/etc.)
Yep! she nodded in affirmation, vaguely wondering why he hadn't said much more in particular. He'd glanced off in one direction, though, and she assumed this would be their direction of travel. Inevitably, they were all built to read the same non-verbal cues their species had used for centuries; indeed, some of Maserati's fondest memories with others involved times when nothing was spoken at all. Instead, messages and meaning were conveyed on a deeper, more instinctual level. A light touch, a soft embrace, and a warm smile could mean more than thousands of words put together. Alternatively, a sideways glance, a suspicious sneer, and an angry glare could do the same.
Tipping her head to one side, she began to trot slowly in the direction he'd indicated with his gaze. Shall we? she wondered aloud. She could already feel excitement welling up inside of her at the prospect of this hunt... how long had it been since she'd hunted cooperatively with another wolf? It seemed like at some point during her travels she may have teamed up with another random loner, but the more she thought about it, the more unlikely this seemed. She really hadn't since she'd left her family behind at the Outpost. Either way, Brennt seemed like an ideal hunting companion for her, and the plan in her mind seemed obvious: her being faster, she could flush their target out and herd it towards him, where he could use his strength to make the kill.
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At her affirmation, Brennt took off at a brisk pace toward the nearest exit of the city, the straightest shot out into the surrounding woodlands. It would take some time, but once they made it out, it wouldn't take him long to find prey. The predator emerged, but the context was much difference, and blood was not what was on its mind right now. The brightness came back into its eyes, the anticipation of the hunt and the strange alertness of a wild animal which seemed to be lost when Brennt entered the world of words and faces. The trip outside the city took a while, but once they actually emerged into the wilderness, the predator moved methodically, seeking a scent, moving with a strange grace which was ordinarily outside of the large wolf's capability.
A small doe caught its nose, and it tracked it relentlessly, falling into an easy hunting teamwork with the smaller, faster wolf beside it. While the doe was faster than the predator, it came very close to taking its quarry by surprise several times, so quiet and confident were its movements through the underbrush. Eventually, with the black wolf's speed and the predator's size, the deer was brought down, and sometime between fastening its teeth on the doe's throat and releasing its head to the ground, the dullness returned to Brennt's eyes.
"Do we eat the snack first, or later?" he asked with the same kind of hopeful inflection that an eager child might. He didn't know what the snack was, but it sounded new and exciting, and he knew that anything Maz had with her must be wonderful, and not scary. It had been a long while since he believed anything new could be something good. Indeed, since leaving Nowry Village, the only new thing he had enjoyed was living life alone and away from others. If others were like Maz, though, maybe he never would have felt that way.
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For some time, the two partners were silent. Communication was through quick glances and nods, posturing, and other signals. There was a slightly different air about him now that the petite girl couldn't quite place... not that there was anything negative about it. If anything, the large male seemed handsome and capable, as any good provider should be. Only now did she reflect on his lack of a pack scent; what kind of company did he normally keep? Although they were getting along just fine, it weren't as if they knew much about one another either way. For what they were about to do next, though, it may have been fitting. After all, the best 'smoking buddies' usually suffered from some kind of disconnect... there was no drama, then, or anything complicated to muck things up. Simplicity at its best, eh?
As the deer stopped kicking, she backed off a bit, licking her chops. Awkwardly she bowed down to the ground, placing one paw on her bag and wriggling her way out of it. Ah; snack first, she told him. 're yeh ready for the best tasting food in your life? Everythin' will taste so much better after yeh eat this, too. Using her nose to riffle through, she pulled out a large piece of cooked meat. It had been lightly dusted with kief before as it cooked; the scent was pure and minty, though soothing in its own right. Using a dainty fore paw to hold it down, she yanked off a chunk of it, approximately dividing it in half. She took the smaller piece for herself and nosed the bigger one in his direction--while she was certain there was plenty here to get them high for hours, his additional weight merited a larger dose. Besides, sharing was caring, was it not?
The girl licked her lips and began to nibble on the drug-laden meat, savouring the unique taste and anticipating its effects. Once her piece was gone, she looked up to Brennt and winked. 'n now, we wait. It takes some time to kick in, but Oi promise if yeh hold out on it this will be the most amazin' meal you've ever had in your life. For now, she lay down neatly a short distance away from the deer, mentally reminding herself not to forget her bag once she left. Getting it back on would be a pain and she might need to shift to do it, but she could worry about that later.
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In his shifted state, it may have taken a good deal more for the drug to effect Brennt's perceptions, but as he was no more massive in this form as many of the humans who had first cultivated the drug for consumption, the dosage wasn't hard to figure meet. Maz's practiced eye helped, as well. Nonetheless, the amazing qualities of the food as promised by the young girl did not meet his expectations as quickly as he had hoped, and there was a period which felt much longer than it actually was in which Brennt felt himself becoming impatient and antsy, waiting for the advertised bonuses of the best food ever.
Gradually, things around Brennt began changing. He found himself focusing on the vibrant green of a nearby bush, for apparently no reason, and before he knew it, his impatience had abated, leaving him feeling relaxed and generally content to wait for the alleged affects to take place. It didn't occur to him that he was experiencing them now. Deciding to see if Maz's promise was true, he went ahead and tore a piece of flesh from the fallen doe, and found to his delight that it did indeed taste better than it had bringing it down, which was strange. The fact that his perceptions had changed might normally make him anxious, or distressed, but right now he thought it was alright that things were a little different. He didn't exactly feel tired, not like the day before when he had fought two wolves over a kill, but just...lazy. While he had done a fair bit of pacing before, waiting for the food to work its magic, he now found himself content to sit down and look over to Maz.
"What is the snack?" he said bluntly, though gently. Surely it had a name. He couldn't remember his mother ever talking about anything like this, but because it was Maz he wouldn't be distrustful. After all, she was nice, and nice people didn't do bad things.
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Maz felt her eye lids growing heavy as she stared placidly off to the left. A squirrel darted past through the scattered leaves on the forest floor and she trailed it lazily with twin red eyes. Her ears fell back peacefully and her tail flopped to the other side as she noticed Brennt stirring--he was right, it was about time to eat. Her stomach gurgled loudly at her in encouragement and she paused a moment longer before rising lightly to her feet. Her movements were slow and deliberate, yet fluid and natural all the same as she tiptoed over to the fallen doe, sniffing at it a bit and licking her chops as she contemplated nothing in particular.
His deep baritone voice beckoned her back into reality and she tipped her head to one side as she peered at him across the other side of the carcass. Ah; 't would be marijuana.. though, my friend, yeh got the best of the best right there. Kief only, the most potent part. 's better that way, anyway... otherwise yeh would be eatin' a lot of plant matter. Lazily slouching into a sit, she began to tear back some of the fallen animal's hide as she worked toward the tasty meat within. Normally yeh smoke it, she added, just in case he may have been more accustomed to that form of ingestion, but eatin' works just 's well 'n yeh don't need hands.
If there was one thing the folks at the Outpost were good for it was having a good time. The guys always enjoyed kicking back and enjoying either a drink or a smoke together at the end of the day (or possibly both), and they'd ensured the girl was well stocked before she embarked on her journey. She'd been somewhat surprised when Gale presented her with a block of kief--he'd promised her it would hold her over until she got back and she could tell he wasn't lying. Even now, she'd barely gone through any of the concentrated drug.
Her explanation complete, the red-marked girl bent down and took a couple of bites, chewing slowly to savour the taste. Where she may have usually gulped down the food without much thought, she instead revelled in the sensation of blood splashing across her tongue and her stomach filling bit by bit. After munching for awhile, she backed off again and grinned stupidly at Brennt. He seemed to be enjoying himself, which pleased her greatly. So, yeh like it? she wondered with a soft giggle.
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Maz said a lot of things in answer to Brennt's question, and a lot of the words she used were unknown to him. What he did understand was the statement that one did not eat hands to eat the snack (something which he knew already) and that it this was the best snack to eat, and that she wanted to know whether or not he liked it. He nodded his head, before trying out the name he had picked up from her explanation.
"Mairwanna?" he said slowly, though no more slowly than usual, given his usual slow demeanor. Indeed, he did like it, he liked it a lot, but it hadn't been like he'd expected. He had thought that he would be able to experience the happiness of the snack and the way it made everything taste better like he normally did...Brennt couldn't understand the idea of altering perception. He was happy, but not in a normal way, and things did taste better and even looked better than they had before.
"I like it," he reaffirmed, looking at the red patterns in Maz's fur with new-found interest. "What're those?" he said dully, chuckling briefly at the idea of a swirly wolf. It reminded him of Cwmfen a little, but it was more subtle than the woad paint, and there weren't as many stripes as Cwmfen had. In a way, it was better, too, because he thought it looked natural, and not put on, and his mother had told him that a wolf's natural qualities were always better than fake ones.
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Maz nodded absently at his slight mispronunciation and wondered for a fleeting instant if English might not be his first language. Mmhn. Also goes by pot, weed, and so on, she offered, in case he may have heard the slang elsewhere before. If not, she was glad she could introduce him to the substance--it made kicking back and relaxing so much fun! Indeed, it was hard to become upset over anything when the thought escaped you seconds later and you couldn't recall what the matter was to begin with..
Meanwhile, Nature moved at her own pace, flowed around you, and seemed to recapture the childlike wonderment a pup feels its first spring. Everything was new and exciting and beautiful all over again. Subtle patterns stood out more, enhancing the feeling of comprehension and oneness with the world. It was really quite delightful. As an added bonus, Maserati could still do work while intoxicated thusly; although many others seemed to favour their firewater, she found it stung her tongue, made her too sloppy mentally and rather uncoordinated physically... not that she didn't enjoy the occasional drink.
Now she felt his eyes upon her and she tipped her head to one side curiously before he spoke. Ah; of course--her strange markings. Moving into a clearing where sunbeams filtered through the scraggly branches and general undergrowth, she used her nose to push aside some of the fur along her side and invited him to see: here at the root her fur was a deep rusty brown... it would nearly blend in with her dark coat in less ideal lighting conditions (and would easily in the shade). Mostly just birthmarks that I dyed brighter red, she explained. Though on my side 's more of a blob than a loop, Oi liked this better, she said with a wink. It was Kendra who'd initially helped her with the dye, and Kendra who originally suggested doing something more artistic with the streak that raced across her side. She peered at him wonderingly, as if trying to ascertain whether or not he agreed with her preference. |
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"Oh," he said briefly. That was fake, too. Still, he liked it more. Somehow it felt more...behaved. When he'd seen Cwmfen, he'd been attracted to her and her strangeness, the blue marks had made her stand out from other females he saw. These made Maz stand out, too, but not in the same way. He wasn't sexually attracted to her, which made everything more relaxed. Her swirls were interesting, and not provocative (not a word he would be able to use himself).
"I still like them, even if they're dye," he said laboriously, a process which took over ten seconds. He liked Maz, she didn't make him feel like he was supposed to do anything, and she liked fun games instead of word games, like the Rolly Game, and she didn't try to interrupt real things like hunting with words, either. No...he wondered...would this happen again? He hadn't seen any of the wolves that had attacked him again, being a lone wanderer was different from living in a pack...all of his enemies weren't around him every day, but...did that mean she would be gone after today, too?
"Do you live here?" he said after a moment, wondering if he could always find her by coming here. He would like to play with the rollers again, and maybe to eat the snack again. Most of all, he wanted to be around her, again. The pressure of sex and needing to know how to get it wasn't around her, for some reason, and unbeknownst to him, his stress-killing practice caused him a lot of stress, too, and he didn't feel any of that around her, either. Something he couldn't quite place: he wanted to have a friend.
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