+- Ruins of Wildwood (https://relic-lore.net)
+-- Forum: Library (https://relic-lore.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=23)
+--- Forum: Game Archives (https://relic-lore.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=26)
+---- Forum: Incompleted Relic Lore (https://relic-lore.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=22)
+---- Thread: Larkcall Lowlands feasting with the heroes of our time (/showthread.php?tid=12621)
feasting with the heroes of our time - Craw - Jul 13, 2016
Getting this up while I have time and before the RE expires! Tags for @Wraith, @Greer, @Celandine who said you're coming. @Morganna is on pup-duty I suppose <3 Am not going to explicitly name participants in this post because @Isuni and @Lorcan are welcome to join in, too! Jacq can't see the common room yet since Lorcan isn't in the WM group, but he would have been accepted by this point :) I'll be making a meet'n'greet thread for him and the pack set shortly after his join thread, so if Lorcan joins, don't assume this is the first time anyone's met him/he's a total stranger, but he's definitely still new.
This is a low-pressure pack hunting thread. No posting order, but I'll use Craw as a round marker. I'll post again once Wraith/Greer/Cel have joined, but will leave time for Ace and Jacqueline to jump in, too! Not gonna go with strict deadlines, if we can manage 1-3 weeks per round that'd be great. Let me know if you have any questions, and have fun <3
Most of their day-to-days were spent doing individual tasks, though Craw always made sure to cross paths with as many of his packmates as possible at every excuse. It was not borne from distrust... exactly - maybe it had at first, a feeling of not really knowing the wolves under him, but things had changed in a short space of time. With the uncertainty of wheres and whens long behind them, the Whitestones members had - to a wolf - made him proud to have invited them. He could not resist wondering what the Ridge looked like now that he and Morganna had stolen away most of their productive, skilled and trustworthy wolves. There were no Skolls here. He looked at his subordinates and could not imagine them coming together as once the Willow Ridge males had to 'discuss' Nicolo. He looked at Morganna and saw everything that her uncle had never been able to, and regretted not one decision.
The sensation, therefore, of trotting through the tundra with a number of wolves at his sides and back was uniquely exhilerating - fulfilling, vindicating. They weren't even a particularly large pack but it didn't matter. He let himself forget for half a moment that they were only going out to pursue the vast caribou herd which had chosen to migrate right back the monadnock, and not marching to some great war - but his blood warmed up all the same. Excited and keen, he nipped and nudged at any of the pack who got close, enjoying the proximity, the sound of gruff breathing and many pawsteps and the quiet chatter among them. It was a shame she could not be here to enjoy it all the same, but Odin and Kara were still too young to be left alone. Perhaps in a moon's turn or two they would be able to come and watch from a safe distance.
The herd of slowly marching animals stretched out far to their left and far to their right, the herd trudging east as if it were one massive living creature rather than many hundreds of individual ones. The tundra was too open and the herd too large to attempt any real stealth, for there were no trees to hide behind or sprawling bushes to use as cover. What the wolves had were numbers and stamina, and somewhere in that herd, Craw knew, was an animal who would not be able to outrun them. All they had to do was find it.
A few of the peripheral caribou spotted the oncoming wolf pack, but Craw paid them little mind, just as those animals chose to grunt and shuffle closer to the main bulk of the herd. After all, the odds of any one of them being targeted was so tiny as to be impossible. Strength in numbers. And all a cow or bull had to do to be safe was look healthier than their neighbours.
Casting a look over his shoulder, Craw grunted to get their attention, a smile snaking its way across his maw. Making sure that he had all eyes on him, he motioned with his snout to the left and the right, indicating that he wanted runners to split off and start looking for a likely target. Once they had chosen one, they could convene and start putting on the pressure, working to isolate it and then wear it down. This was how he had been taught how to hunt, not from the shadows like some cat. They wouldn't need to hide and sneak to win.
So many caribou, so many possibilities - would their best shot be too young, too old, too slow, too stupid? His mouth was already slick with saliva, a thick rope of it hanging down as he turned his eyes back to the wall of caribou, jaws parting with anticipation.
RE: feasting with the heroes of our time - Lorcan - Jul 18, 2016
[dohtml]
Caribou. He had smelt them long before he had seen them. The thick musk generated by the huge herd ruminants began to dominate the air he breathed, burning through his nose and clinging to his salmon pink tongue which sprawled carelessly outside the confines of his gaping jowls as he trotted purposefully alongside the wolves of Whitestone Monadnock. He had kept his movements slow and gentle for initial march out of the pack's territory, allowing his muscles the time to work and stretch themselves into a nice flowing rhythm. Now, as the endorphin's began to flow and the incessant ache of his limbs subsided he felt truly at ease, his lean muscles now hot and taut, rippling beneath the confines of his lithe build. The hungry stare of his golden eyes was cold and menacing as he watched the herd of caribou crawl across the vast expanse of the tundra plains, violently fixated upon the sea of grunting bodies as he imagined the macabre marriage of fang against hot bleeding flesh, unaware of the single string of saliva that was growing thick at the left corner of his charcoal lips.
A playful nip from Craw snapped him back to reality, causing the male to give a sudden shake of his head, the hungry glaze from his eyes fading to reveal a more focused stare as he paced keenly alongside his alpha. He let out a small wavering bark in excitement as he nudged his muzzle into his alpha's belly fur, russet ears pinned back submissively, and snaked his body to sweep along his side to coat himself in his superiors scent before moving away to weave himself back amongst the other pack members as they closed in on their prey. Lorcan could see the animals reacting to their presence now; the individuals clinging to the outskirts of the sea of ruminants now bounding, bucking and kicking. Lorcan's fur bristled, desperate to charge in to further unsettle the beasts, but instead he turned his attention to Craw, peering past the figures of his fellow pack members as he obediently waited for instruction. It wasn't long before a small grunt was given, ordering the subordinates fan out and identify a target.
Lorcan immediately set off at break neck speed, sprinting away from the pack of Whitestone wolves and charged boldly into the group of grunting bodies which hung temptingly at the very right-side edges of the caribou herd, aiming to spook and scatter them. As he ploughed into the edges of the herd, the caribou close to him panicked and bolted away, crashing into their neighbouring herd-members as they tried to bull-doze their way back into the safe centre of the herd. Lorcan trotted away, circling back around the newly formed edges of the herd with the intention to strike again, keeping his head low to try and nip at the caribous hooves when he dove into them, and to avoid their powerful kicks if they fought back. If he kept the pressure up and continued to panic the caribou into fighting their way back into the centre of the herd, there was a chance for one of them to get hurt in the disarray, weakened by their own selfish peers. The caribou may have been herd animals, but when it came to survival, every animal instinctively looked out for themselves.
RE: feasting with the heroes of our time - Wraith - Jul 20, 2016
[dohtml]
 As the majority of the pack set out, Wraith felt the keen responsibility of the pups' teachings on his shoulders. Not too much longer before they could join in. He was anxious for that time, hopeful that they would take to his instructions well. Even as he walked alongside Craw, the brute was imagining how best to go about it. More than once, his gaze was drawn to their newest member. He was a good kid and enthusiastic enough for all of them. Watching the way he yearned for Craw's attention and approval left a smile on the black man's face. Wraith nipped at his pale friend's shoulder as playfully as his Alpha snapped his jaws in his direction. His laugh was a low murmur, but no less light for its quietness. The milling herd ahead was a reminder of the great meal they were to have today. No doubt there would be plenty to drag home for the pups as well. It was high time they stopped demanding upchucked meals and start using those teeth of theirs to rip into a hide on their own. At Craw's grunted order, Wraith hung back as the others raced onward. While he had the stamina for a lengthy chase, he saw no reason in running himself ragged before any real prey had been chosen. With amusement, he watched as Lorcan zoomed through a throng of caribou and shook his head. Kid would be lucky if he had any breath left to run by the time they flushed out something worth chasing. This was a new tactic for the Second, to be sure. Caribou were a rare treat back in the northern mountains of his homelands. Up there, they were forced single file and were easily taken down by the sure-footed mountain wolves. But here, the level fields made for such methods to be impossible. However, Wraith wasn't a total fool and knew how to hunt with his packmates as they were in theory. Exacting it in practice wouldn't be all that difficult and had been something he had been looking forward to ever since he mentioned a pack hunt to Morganna. Amber eyes scanned through the bumping bodies with interest, though his gaze was not so focused to cause the animals closest to him to spook. Sooner or later, the weakest members would be flushed from the center of the herd by their own kind seeking the safety of the middle. Lazily, Wraith padded around the outskirts as his head swiveled to keep track of his packmates' positions as well to make sure no one was getting themselves into trouble. Prey they may be, but caribou were far from defenseless. |
RE: feasting with the heroes of our time - Celandine - Aug 12, 2016
[dohtml]
Adjusting to Whitestone's way of life certainly hadn't been easy. There had been hiccups, and obstacles in the way. Sometimes there still were. Some mornings she'd wake up thinking about leaving them all behind, finding her old home and re-establishing her own pack. Some mornings she woke up and headed straight out on the border patrols. It was touch and go, something the woman expected she'd deal with the rest of her time at the Monadnock. She hated being a subordinate, hated every waking hour of it, yet some sick part of her didn't.. hate it so much. Although getting her to admit that fact, even to herself, would be impossible.
That particular day had been a good one. She'd woken up that morning without the internal struggle of whether she'd stay or not. Instead she'd rose mere hours after the sun painted the sky in fiery hues and made herself useful. The mood was easy, and lighthearted as they set out for the day. The boys were doing their usual roughhousing ritual, one of the bigger obstacles she'd had to adapt to. Though she'd never initiate it herself, she finally nipped back when their teeth swung her way. It wasn't the worst thing in the world.
She did enjoy the strange sense of power she felt, trudging alongside them. They were for all intents and purposes, a real pack. Silent Moon hadn't ever had something like that. Something so coordinated. Their already obvious excitement only grew as the scent of caribou graced the air, and they did nothing to hide it. They weren't sneaking around. Whitestone was there, and they couldn't care less who knew.
What she didn't expect was Lorcan's submission, as if he were a cub vying for the alpha's attention. Her gaze flicked to Wraith, wondering how he felt about the situation. He had been Craw, and Morganna's lap dog after all. Would things change now that there was a new head poking around, trying to win over the leadership? The man seemed at ease, but she couldn't help but wonder if he really felt it.
Craw pulled her attention, motioning for them to split. Her pace was leisurely as she skirted the edges, paying no mind to Lorcan as he blurred the edges of their herd. She hoped they'd pick a big one.
[/dohtml]RE: feasting with the heroes of our time - Isuni - Aug 13, 2016
[dohtml]
Who was this new punk, anyways? His submission was met with nothing but curiosity, suspicion – not unlike Celandine’s own thoughts, though it was unlikely either female would consider themselves of similar mind. Studying Lorcan for several silent moments, the female huffed and rolled her shoulders before deciding he was unworthy of any further attention. Currently, he presented no threat to her being or her status amongst the wolves of Whitestone Monadnock, and she would not treat him to any further attention.
Bowing down in a low stretch, the wolf watched in silence as the alpha grunted for their attention. Her ears rolled forward, interested in the general idea he presented. A hunt. A fresh kill. Not a scarcity, not out here in the lowlands, but such a big prize? That would be worthy of a celebration indeed.
Now, she wasn’t much of a runner herself, but Capable was disinterested in arguing with the ghost’s plan. So she only hummed in return, her tone low and pleasant as she righted herself, and set off immediately. Celandine and Lorcan were already ahead, but it did not bother her. Such were the strengths of solid wolves – her own abilities would shine when it came time to take down the kill. They simply needed to point and shoot – Isuni would be certain to do the rest.