Ruins of Wildwood
Cedarwood Forest don't poke a sleeping dragon - Printable Version

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don't poke a sleeping dragon - Nereid - Mar 07, 2011

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         Not many would dare to trek through the never ending deep forest alone. Not many, but then again Nereid wasn't your average wolf. The unknown was like a challenge for him. You tell him 'no', his answer is always yes. Impossibilities were few and far between when it came to the massive gray-tinged male who was currently traipsing through the maze of tree's, listening avidly for the sound of a possible prey. Birds and small animals scurried about, making noises that Nereid was attuned to. They were too small, too easy. It's head would be enough to salvage me an hour. Ever the arrogant, thinking he went above and beyond the average and minimum standards, Nereid searched relentlessly for the better part of one full afternoon. It was March, early spring, in other words the perfect time of year to steal a newborn cub, newborn anything really. This was barely a workout. Overworked muscles were not yet screaming for a rest, as the limited heat of the season was blocked from the towering trees above of Cedarwood Forest.

         Time ticked on. A stomach growled. Nereid became frustrated. Silently cursing under his breath in frustration, the swarthy male continued to press on down the path, wondering when the hell something was going to show. He would give anything at this point for even a moderately large hare to cross his path. Hell, couldn't a baby bird learning to fly just drop down from the sky, hotly served and ready to go, crying for its mother in the face of Nereid's pearly white fangs? Oh, he was twisted and sick. Misae, her good heart and loving kindness, would be appalled to know the thoughts that now plagued her lonely brother's mind. Though he would never know what she thought, quite frankly, because she was dead. The anger surged in his gut like dynamite, churning and searching for a way to be released. That's when he saw it. Ahead, just a few feet hidden in the foliage and clearly trying to avoid him was a bear. At first glance, it looked young. Maybe an adolescent. Excitement gripped Nereid, the rush and dare of a dangerous ultimatum giving him reason to feel alive. Alive and ready to go, ready to take down a fellow meat eater no matter the risk. If he got out alive, hey; he'd have the scars and meal to prove it. If he didn't... well, whatever. Nobody would really miss him.

         Slowly, he constricted his body, flattened his fur and crouched down to give the illusion that he was a lot smaller and non-threatening than he really was. Counting under his breath, the male crept forward and watched as the cub appeared disinterested and content to sharpen its long young claws against the bark of a nearby tree. 1...2... An immense snarl, his throat lurched at the thought and imaginary taste of what the blood and flesh would taste like, but then reality crashed down on him in the shape of an angry adult mother bear. Shit. Staring up at the towering black bear, Nereid locked eyes with her, brown to faded green. She had a wounded back leg, the blood marks evident on all the surrounding leaves. If he could just move off to the right a little, he could have better aim... <b style="color:#570606;">"Calm yourself now, not here to hurt you, but can I at least take a swipe at that nice juicy kid of yours?" Oh he was asking for it, that's for sure. Slinking around to the other side so that he could face off the bear squarely dead on, the older male remained still as he analyzed the situation, interrogating and harassing the two bears until they either dropped dead from the anxiety or decided to fight. Suffice to say, nobody ever really claimed Nereid the smartest, nor the brightest bulb in the box.

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don't poke a sleeping dragon - Ozera - Mar 07, 2011

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Finally, finally, finally, was the thought that danced through Ozera's head as she loped betwixt the imposing trunks. Finally! She could walk again without anyone to help her. To have been such a burden on her pack mates had been driving her mad. But now that was over. Or, well, she still creaked a bit, and nothing was completely up to snuff, but it was more than enough for Ozera to walk without a crutch. Ecstasy rippled up through her legs at every step, laughter accompanying every deep breath she took. Such joy had driven her to dance through Sacred Grove and along Heartleaf Creek, looking for adventures to make up for the time she had lost cradled in the twisted roots of her tree-den.

By the time she had reached the copse, though, her breath was ragged, torn from her lungs sharply by exhaustion. She was reluctant to slow her pace, however, reluctant to take it easy. Oh, how she just wanted to run, to do anything but hobble or walk. Like a whirlwind Ozera tore through trees and winding paths until at last she felt her heart would give. Abruptly her rump dropped to the ground while her body, beginning to ache, berated her for her immaturity. And then her stomach joined in the angry chorus. "Oh hush up," she said, her neck craned down so that she could direct this comment at her fussy stomach. It growled back at her flatly.

Yet, as it stood, she was hardly in any position to go hunting. Her limbs protested any movement, and her left foreleg was the loudest rioter among the crowd. For long moment broken only by the moaning and complaints of hunger pangs, Ozera merely sat in the woods, contemplating the soft dimples of snow. Soon, they would be gone. Not soon enough. It was then, though, that Ozera caught a very distinct smell carried past her nose on the wings of the breeze. Wait. Her head lifted as her nose prodded the air curiously, sorting through the woodland scents. Two smells. Wolf, which was a very welcomed smell, not incredibly surprising. But then there was bear, which was almost always a bad thing. Bears, Ozera knew, rarely attacked unless provoked... but... it was better safe than sorry. I should warn whoever this stranger is that there's a bear around. They'd want to know.

With a groan she heaved herself back to her feet, reveling for a moment at how her leg bore her weight, and then she trotted off after the trails of scent. Unease gradually began to give way to anxiety, however, when she noticed that at every step, not only did the scent of the stranger get stronger —the bear's did as well. And then disbelief greeted her nose when at last the smells mingled and became absolutely overpowering. Before her was a wolf crouched before a very, very big bear, and a laughably small cub.

"Calm yourself now, not here to hurt you, but can I at least take a swipe at that nice juicy kid of yours?"

Ozera nearly choked on the absurdity of the situation. "Do you have a deathwish?" she called from behind the trunk of a very wide and generous tree, hoping not to attract the attention of the bear. "What on EARTH are you doing!" Her head poked around the curve, her ears smoothed by trepidation. This wolf, the wolf she had hoped to warn of the bear was mad if he thought he could get away with goading the bear like that. "Get away from there damnit!" Rarely did Ozera speak so harshly, but this situation was dire.
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don't poke a sleeping dragon - Nereid - Mar 08, 2011

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         It was like a game or some warped version of a dance he didn't yet know the steps to. If the bear moved right, he moved left. If it took a step forward, he'd take two back. If, however, it stepped back and hesitated, Nereid would leap forward with a slinking lope that resembled something of a callous snake. He was, in essence, an arrogant prince who held himself like royalty. But he wasn't now, was he? No, not even close. He was the lone male of the forest, the angry maniacal and somewhat crazy Nereid Azeron who didn't have anything or anyone, nothing left to fight for. Misae was dead, murdered and long gone from this world, her eyes probably pecked out for a nice juicy meal by flying and terrestrial scavengers. Her body was currently decaying somewhere back at home, a part of the soil and earth every living creature walked on. She was beneath them all. Not believing in anything like Heaven or Hell (though if he did, he would be more prone to believing he was worthy of the second), Nereid was at a loss for finding a way to nurse his pained thoughts. The terrible misguided notion that somehow he was responsible. Had he only been there, a little closer, been able to hear her screams of pain and terror...

         Shaking himself once more back to reality, for long gone dreams and nostalgic memories of the past could hardly help him now in this situation, the male continued to pester and goad the bear, wondering just how far he could take it. The young cub had now scurried around behind to hide behind its mother, out of sight and out of mind. The mother bear was on her hind legs, launched up to the sky to give off her true height. Nereid became encased in her shadow, feeling the cool chill of the sudden air change ripple through his fur and settle on his skin, which suddenly made him feel incredibly vulnerable and stupid. "Do you have a death wish?" A female voice tore through his mind, causing Nereid to stop mid-stride and turn back to look. A wolf was standing behind a tree, watching him in disbelief as he tried to do whatever the hell it was he was doing (honestly, he still hadn't quite figured it out himself). Well there went that plan. Even if he did feel like getting himself killed over a large carcass of a bear which would probably pin him to the earth if it collapsed on him, there was no way he was going to risk causing any more mayhem than was necessary, not at least, now that there was a female in close proximity.

         His tail flicked, the point resting high in the hair before slanting off to one side to wave like a proud banner of claim. Time to rewind time and erase this mess. But how...? Next thing he heard was the bear give a ferocious snarl and the she-wolf screaming instruction at him all at the same time. A snort of satisfaction, taking in his moment of glory. Black licorice lips twitched sideways as he pondered the dilemma he was in, green eyes still focused completely on the bear, watching as she shook with rage and spat her snarls, the blood from her leg dripping slowly, but not fast enough, to the littered ground between them. He held his stance and waited a beat before backing away a step. Then again and again. Finally he had put enough distance between the pair of bears to calm the mother down or at least place her at some level of ease. Still not turning his back on her, Nereid backed up all the way so that he was now standing parallel slightly ahead of this fellow stranger. His eyes shone at her, taking in her general appearance and inhaling the scent off her. A pack wolf. Yeah well, it figured. <b style="color:#570606;">"Not a death wish. Just pure and unnerving fun, not that you'd know anything about it." He snorted and shook his head, watching as the bear lead her cub away in the direction of a sloped section of the woods. Now content that they were out of threat, he turned fully to face the female. <b style="color:#570606;">"Well would you look at the pretty lady playing hide and seek behind the tree. Come to pillage and plunder with the local wanderer?"

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don't poke a sleeping dragon - Ozera - Mar 08, 2011

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Ozera's tail hung aloft in the air, expectant. Everything about the moment seemed charged with palpitations of anxiety. Or perhaps that was he heart beat. Could go either way, she decided, her eyes sewn to the scene before her, waiting for one of the opponents to swing at each other. The air was alive with the vibrations and effervescence of a showdown, but suddenly the male swung his head back. Her voice had finally registered. Then nothing. Long moments of silence and expectations. But then he the male stepped back, ever so slowly. That retreat was eventually, gradually followed by periodic, meticulous others, until he stood only a short distance in front of her. The bear did not follow. Cool, relieving waves of breath ran through her.

However, when he spoke to her, Ozera felt a twinge of exasperation and defiance at his insinuations, which was rare. Then again, she had never met anyone who thought her —her of all wolves— incapable of having fun. While she was in no way capable of taking on a bear, tempting death did not seem to Ozera fun in any sense of the word. This fellow clearly had things backwards. But being the wolf she was, she could not hold this against him or take his miscalculated assumptions to heart. The momentary disgruntled feelings were cast aside. Instead, she let a bark of laughter escape her, "Oh please, you think you know what fun is?" For good measure —and a bit of flare— she tossed a smile into the mix.

An ear flickered on her head as she watched the bear withdraw, its cub in tow. Good. Now that it was gone she could get a good look at this daredevil who had turned to face her. As she listened to him speak once more, her ear flicked again curiously. Smooth talker. Far and few between in these parts. Of course, she did note the usage "pretty" in the jumble of speech, but shrugged it off. " I was trying to be a bit more careful, since I have a tendency to be a bit of a 'damsel in distress,' if you will." Major understatement. Taking a step towards him, she said through a wide smile, "Pillage and plunder? I suppose this is what you dervish-folk call 'fun.' Please, do tell me more about this fun you spoke of." Yes, play the irony card, he could find out the truth later. Ozera was long overdue for a playful conversation, after being drowned in the surrounding depression of her pack mates.
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