Charred Ash Draw always losing

Fog 53 ° F, 12 ° C

 



The Tainn tried to blink the sleep from his eyes, and his mind. Without a thought he exited the den greeted by a silver fog. He paused, brows scrunched in bemusement, as again he blinked, trying to clear it away. After another round he realized it was not his eyes, but the current weather. A low chuckle rumbled in his throat, as he shook his head at himself. He was only getting older these days no doubt. Something he was trying to take in stride, and not entirely deny.

With hesitation, he stepped forward, trying to see if one of his children were near by. He was lucky to make out the dark lines of the trees in the distance. He wasn't going to let that stop him. He pressed on, trying to remain hopeful. It was where they had a well made trail he stopped once more. Lowering his dark muzzle to the ground, where his nose twitched. Once more he would try to decide if their scents were recent or merely from the day in and out wanderings. He liked to think he wasn't far behind. So he released a rather loud woof, hoping to gain attention. Hoping to put some of his miserable failings behind.

(This post was last modified: Aug 31, 2017, 02:23 PM by Triell.)

are you with me through it all?

Lacey loved the fog. She loved how readily concealed the majority of her pale body when it fell heavy on the woodland, and the secretive edge it lent all of her movements through the trees. She loved how cool it was against her nose and fur and she loved the sharp clarity it gave the scent of the woods. The smells of dirt, leaf litter, fungus, and animal droppings seemed to jump out at her under the veil of fog, amplified a hundred times over, such that the girl need only sniff gingerly to discover them all. Most of all, she loved how easy it made playing Ghosts.

Ghosts was a game Lacey had invented that only Lacey played, it seemed. It involved sneaking up on members of the pack and claiming to be the ghost of someone long gone. Naturally, her pool of real ghosts was incredibly small, so she made them up, and all of them sported glaring inconsistencies as a result of her youthful inability to keep a story straight and realistic. Nevertheless, she played it as often as she could. She was usually caught, being about as stealthy as a boulder thundering down a mountainside, but the fog made it easier.

She was prancing through the woods when a loud woof from somewhere nearby drew her attention. Her huge ears perked up and she paused in her tracks to listen, then headed for the voice with steps she fancied were quiet, but were actually quite clumsy and conspicuous. It would truly be a wonder if Triell didn't hear her coming, but she hunkered down in the bushes as if she was completely unseen and said, in her best "oooOOOoooOOO" voice, IIIIIII am th' ghost of Scaryzilla! Be 'fraid, li'l wolfie! I'll eat'cha for brekky!

Then, because she was Lacey and was inherently goofy and young, she failed to withhold a giggle.

Someone was in the silver mist. The dark wolf cocked his head, catching what he believed was a juvenile stride. His tail began to wag behind him, and his eyes narrowed in search. But, no one came out to greet him to his dismay. Trying to keep a frown from tugging his lips, he took another few steps forward. Nothing seemed to change in the fog. He felt the shadow in his mind telling him maybe he really hadn't heard anyone at all. Finding elysium would not be so simple. 

Then the rustle of a near by bush caught him by surprise. For now his negative thoughts were snuffed away. Instinctively he turned, trying to discern if it was some kind of large rabbit, or other creature when the bush began to speak.

The voice had a slight eeriness to it, or at least that's what it seemed to be leaning toward. It warned him to be afraid he may just be its next meal. A faint grin tried to crack against his facade, but that wouldn't work if he was going to play in turn. He concentrated on placing mask of worry upon his dark face. Because he knew it must be Kerb and Maera's child, unable to hold her amusement. He didn't want to ruin her fun.

Without skipping a beat he scrunched down as if in fear, and replied, "But Scaryzilla ghost, I am old with tough skin and will taste rather yucky. Please, don't eat me!" His fiery eyes began to search as if he was frantic. "Surely I could instead help you find something far more delicious?" He offered in a slight cracking voice.

are you with me through it all?

There is a deer that was killed by a lynx nearby. +10 Health

The pup's face broke into a huge triumphant grin when Triell not only appeared to be frightened, but confirmed it by responding. She had no idea he was just playing along; she fully expected him to be terrified of Scaryzilla, the ghost of Charred Ash Draw, so there was no silliness to her now. Her tail whipped back and forth behind her as she wiggled forward another inch into the bush, just enough to make out his swarthy figure against the forest backdrop, and thought about how to proceed with her scary little game.

Tough skins, y'say? mused the "ghost", tha's no good! Scaryzilla eats on'y freshest and sof'est skins! Was the implication a little bit morbid? Probably, but Lacey didn't know much better about what was and wasn't considered an acceptable thing to say. That would come with time. For now, she tended to blurt out all manner of inappropriate, embarrassing or downright stupid things. Everything was literal to the pup, whose social graces were still developing and had a long way to go. Even when fully grown, it was unlikely the Rigel would live up to her surname in terms of being a polite, well-mannered wolf.

I won' eat'cha, she went on thoughtfully, bu' you gotta... gotta... Fin' me a better wolf to eat for brea'fast! Or else I'll ea'cha and your whoooooole fambly! Yeah, that'd show Triell! He'd have to offer up one of the other cubs for Lacey to torment if he wanted to get out of this encounter with the infamous Scaryzilla alive!

The little ghost was quite clever. There was hardly pause over this new development. The young Rigel rolled along with it. Making it clear she did not prefer his hide. Good. But what would she do now?

She was definitely not short on imagination as she described what she would eat. While he was a little weary of the depth of her description he really didn't see much harm in it. It was all a game, and there would be plenty of time for reality to set it and ruin things. To be an adult and all that.

Still best as he could the old wolf kept up his efforts to play the part of fear. Thankfully, instead of crouching further, as if surprised he pulled to a more comfortable stand. But, he would have to find someone else to be her victim. All right. He could see if the other children were up to playing. Though he felt like they rather avoid him. He'd probably just been the useless dark blob.

Triell had a back up plan. With his head bowed to the bush he pleaded, "Please don't eat my family Scaryzilla.. I will find you someone else.." He then went to take his leave, but ended up pacing in a circle, as if stumped.

"Wait. What if..if I find something far more delicious than a wolf?" He was sure there was some real breakfast waiting to be had. Would this entice the young lady?

(This post was last modified: Oct 05, 2017, 02:13 AM by Triell.)

are you with me through it all?