Stonewatch Timbers What more could I want?

@Gent  Here it is!  There's not much going on with Cessair at the moment, so maybe if Gent is off on some sort of task he could invite Cessair to tag along.  Or they could just talk and enjoy the morning!

Morning, warm and sunny

Often the sun's first sight as it peeked over the hills in the east was a fawn colored wolf lying against an ash tree.  Cessair was an early riser, and she had lately settled into a routine of waking and walking up to her favorite lookout point to greet the sun and watch the birth of a new day.  She loved to make herself useful later in the day, but these quiet morning hours served as Cessair's time to meditate and to appreciate her new life.  So it was this morning as she walked through the hazy darkness.  The birds woke and twittered in hushed tones as they anticipated the dawn. A crisp breeze swished through the trees above and stroked through Cessair's pelt.  She lay by her tree in time to see light creep into the sky and to hear triumphant birdsong suddenly erupt across the mountains.  Cessair certainly missed her wandering days, but this life had a captivating beauty all its own.

And never before had the former-loner felt so safe and comfortable.  Her pack cared for her and she had the joy of caring for it in return.  She was making friends, and she didn't even know everyone yet.  So content was Cessair with her life in Round Stone Crest that she was inclined to like all of her packmates already.  Here they all were, willingly gathered as one to promote each other's health and security.  What more could a wolf want? Cessair knew she was perhaps being too optimistic, but as she watched the sun heave itself above the horizon to illuminate the timbers in sparkling light, she didn't want to bother thinking otherwise.  With a contented smile gracing her face, Cessair stood and bowed to the sun in a deep stretch.  There was hardly a better way to start the morning.

(This post was last modified: Jun 06, 2015, 08:40 PM by Cessair.)

OOC: If you could change the prefix of your post to random event, we can get 40 RE lifepoints, because Gent & I are going to be taking advantage of this RE: There are an unusual number of foxes being sighted around Relic Lore.

Gent had begun to notice the repulsive scent of fox becoming stronger as Spring progressed. The much smaller predators did not pose much of a threat to a full grown wolf, and given the season, food was far too abundant to worry about competition over kills. Thus, so far the man had overlooked the population rise, settling for merely ensuring that none had worked their way past the borders. However, as time traveled on, his level of concern began to rise. The children were growing swiftly, and could now be found venturing outside of their natal den to explore the world that was materializing before their developing senses. Any fox given the right opportunity would easily snatch one of the whelps up to carry back to its own offspring. While Gent trusted the diligence of the pack, he would not leave anything up to even the smallest of chances when concerning @Minka 's newborns.

Most concerning was a den that had been established just outside of the pack territory, previously a non-concern but now very pressing in Gent's mind. That allowed two adults and anywhere up to ten growing kits to overstep their boundaries and take a strike at any of the three little ones that the man held so dear. The only answer was immediate extermination, and Gent was determined to undertake and complete this task today. Normally, it would be Raela that he called upon at a time like this, as she was his go-to hunting partner as of late. However, there was one, rather important, pack member that he'd yet to have a one-on-one meeting with, and this seemed like a prime opportunity to remedy that. Thus, he sought out Cessair, the pack's current second amongst the dwindling female ranks. Gent remembered only her scent and appearance from pack events and occasional passing, and her name from talk with others. He also remembered that she was one of only three wolves within the pack who were older than him, something that pleased him. While he enjoyed being the teacher and holding authority, the man knew to appreciate what others' experience could offer him as he was aware that he still had quite a bit to learn in different fields.

He walked amongst the salmon sunlight that filtered through the canopy, the sun rising behind him to cast a long shadow ahead of every step. Cessair was to be found appreciating this sunrise at a vantage point close by atop one of the timber's many peaks, clearly relaxing before starting her day. Gent held no qualms in disturbing the ritual.

"Hello, Cessair," he greeted, with a faint but friendly smile adorning his face. "I'm about to undertake a little fox hunting; care to join me?"

The sound of an unfamiliar voice startled Cessair slightly.  She was calm enough after her meditations, however, that a slight start was all that betrayed her surprise.  The fawn fae recovered immediately and turned calmly to greet her packmate.  Though Cessair didn't know him personally, she recognized the stark contrast of ice blue pools piercing through a coat of midnight black and pegged the man as the current male second, Gent.  His size and coat color reminded Cessair strongly of the rogue wolf she remembered as the murderer of her mother.  How glad Cessair was that the memory troubled her no longer, for she did not wish to associate her packmate with that malicious character.

After all, she had every reason to believe Gent to be a more principled, loyal sort of wolf.  His quick climb through the pack ranks alarmed and intimidated Cessair, but she forced herself to understand his actions as something acceptable in a pack.  He seemed to have avoided seriously injuring his packmates in the rank challenges, after all.  Despite having been a member of this pack through the move and for many months now, Cessair was still not confident in her ability to navigate pack ranking systems.  She had little idea how she managed to be second of Round Stone Crest, though she appreciated the title, and was only glad that she did not have to face Gent in a rank challenge on what appeared to be his journey to the top.

And here was another circumstance to recommend the midnight giant's character.  Cessair had noticed the growing fox populations, and it seemed Gent had too.  Even Cessair didn't have much trouble chasing off a fox if necessary, and since she was the smallest adult in the pack, she was certain that all of the others would have an easier time of it that she.  So Gent must be thinking of the pack's newest additions.  Even if Gent was vying for the title of alpha, he appeared to care about the current princes and princess, which spoke well of his concern for the pack as a whole.  Hopefully his climb was driven by knowledge of his fitness for leadership and not prideful ambition.  Time would tell.  For the moment, Cessair was happy for the opportunity to know him better and help the pack at the same time.  On her lips lingered a content smile from her morning meditation as she responded to Gent's offer.  "Of course."  She figured the man had a specific hunting location in mind, so she waited for him to lead the way.

OOC: NTS - post 1 of 8 for hunting claim.

Her response was not wordy but rather a direct affirmation, and for this Gent was appreciative. With her agreement, he swerved his steps to aim them elsewhere and direct them both to the aforementioned predator-on-predator hunting grounds. Gent hoped that annihilating this one hovel would serve as a warning to the other foxes that were so content to multiply in the timbers, and that they would in turn keep their residences as a far more respectful distance. If not, the soon-to-be king had no qualms about slaughtering family after family if that was what it took to keep his own safe from harm.

As they neared the target site, Gent's posture noticeably melded into a leaner, stealthier form. Instead of trotting he was slinking, nose twitching fiercely to gather all the information it could while his ears pivoted like radars atop his deep black skull. Once he had drawn close enough, he stilled. With each movement, he trusted that Cessair would take and follow his cues while he attempted to stay on top of absolutely everything that was happening within his immediate world. Not only was this an opportunity to rid the pack of a present danger as well as establish a working relationship with his pack mate, but it would allow him to witness Cessair's strengths and any possible weaknesses. It would be highly useful information once he finally did obtain that crown, for his first order of business would be in doling out the appropriate roles to those capable of earning them.

Gent had maneuvered them into a position in which the wind drifted toward them, carrying the scent of whatever lay before to the two wolves and their own telltale scents away. He could smell the earth of the den, tainted by the faintest scent of kits and milk breath. What was important, was where the parents currently resided. It was vital to catch the family all at once and completely eliminate them; it would be foolish to leave a parent alive with the seed of vengeance sprouting thorns around its tiny heart. Thus, he tuned out of his olfactory senses and into his sight and hearing. Each sound of movement he caught within his tall-standing ears was swiftly captured by his arctic eyes, and then abandoned when recognized as something other than fox. After a short amount of time, this elimination process paid off; he spotted the mother slinking into her den, which left any estranged scents as being the father's.

"Find the male," he instructed, initiating the strategy has he had her work day with the hunt. "Once I hear you strike, I'll go after the female, and when they're both finished we'll end the kits." Simple enough; they should be done in no time, he assumed.

OOC: feel free to have shit go wrong or more foxes join in owo

They were off. Upon hearing her reply, Gent immediately turned to lead the hunting expedition without another word. This man was all business, and while Cessair could respect that, his direct manner made her a little nervous. If she couldn't impress the raven giant with skill, she wanted to at least come across as competent. He had so quickly become such an important member of the pack that Cessair thought it necessary to be in Gent's good graces, though she had a feeling that those graces weren't so much given as earned. How grateful was the older woman then, when Gent took the lead in the hunt.

Her years as a lone wanderer taught Cessair to be a good huntress of small prey, but anything larger than a rabbit was out of her comfort zone. Several months of pack life were enough to have given her some experience and confidence, but the diminutive dame would by no means consider her hunting abilities remarkable. Gent sure looked like he understood what he was doing. Cessair observed him closely and copied him to whatever extent was reasonable as she worked to apply her past experiences to acquire new knowledge. Keeping downwind, employing all senses in pinpointing the targets -- these were tactics with which Cessair had become familiar. It was strategy that troubled her. Once they spotted the mother fox, her hunting partner quickly explained a strategy that made sense, alleviating Cessair's worry as she set about her task.

Golden eyes observed all as she followed the remaining fox scent, taking care to keep downwind. It was hardly a minute before a burst of ochre appeared between the timbers. Cessair crouched beneath a low, needle-studded branch, grateful for her small stature and earth-toned pelt. The dog fox was oblivious. Toward her heels the huntress's weight shifted as she prepared to pounce. With a burst of power, she launched. No sooner did her paws leave the ground when a high-pitched alarm bark erupted off to the side. The dog fox bolted just before Cessair landed where he had been. Not wasting a breath's time, the wolf launched another pounce, this one low and quick. She caught her victim's ankle and bit down hard until she heard a snap and a howl.

Just before Cessair could execute a lunge for the neck, a sudden weight landed squarely on her back, knocking her off balance and causing her to release the dog fox. Another rust-pelted villain now desperately tried for a hold on Cessair's neck, the stink of its fear clogging her senses. She whipped around to face her attacker, only to have it sprint off into the bushes. That would never do. Cessair immediately pursued. The injured dog fox had escaped in the opposite direction, toward the den, and figuring their cover had been blown by now, she barked to get her partner's help. "Gent, the male!" Then she focused her energy on dodging the underbrush and matching her quarry's abrupt maneuvers as she closed the distance between them.

Arctic eyes watched her go before returning to the russet and black tail that still swayed from outside of the foxhole. Gent split his attention in two, his hearing focused on Cessair's movements to monitor her progress while his sight stayed firmly attached to his own target. When he heard the sound of his hunting partner breaking away from her cover, he moved. Unfortunately, though, the soon-to-be-king did not sprint swiftly. His ears swiveled to meet the resounding of the warning call issued by a third adult fox, and before him the mother prey swiftly pivoted to face him.

All claws and teeth, small but sharp as hell, were poised to maim him now should he draw near. Gent dug his paw pads into the ground, causing minute waves of dirt to form as he halted his attack. Hateful eyes glared back at the mother; she would be a tad bit more difficult now, protected by the earth and fiercely determined to protect the lives of her young. Gent was reminded of the whistle pigs he and Raela had taken down, along with the scratches and bites they had inflicted; as expected, the man was now missing a patch of fur between his shoulder blades due to the scar that had formed there. Gent didn't much want to pursue a similar path, but knew he would have little option other than sucking it up and diving in. His powerful jaws would easily crunch their way through the valiant mother's guard, but not without paying the price of a few good clawings.

As he was steeling himself for the lunge, Cessair's voice rose up through the air, alerting him that he was needed to capture the woman's previous target. He turned, and found brown eyes staring back at him from between the tightly-knit trees. A snarl worked its way up his muzzle, upper lip pulling back inch by inch. The fox, no doubt father to the tiny vermints who dwelled within the den, only stared him down, completely unmoving. Gent considered that perhaps he was hoping to be attacked; that he was willing to put himself at harm in order to draw the blue black monster away from his children.

Gent gave in, knowing that in the end the male's sacrifice would be in vain. Given his limp, the fox could not properly outrun the wolf, and quickly fell to his snapping jaws. Back and neck both were broken to ensure that their little neighbor would never get back up again. Momentarily, Gent sought out Cessair after the kill was finished, trying to pinpoint where she was. When satisfied with the information his senses gathered, he turned and swiftly returned to the den where the mother still lay in wait, ready to defend her kits with her life. She'd had no where else to go, and had known it. Unable to communicate, Gent still saw the solemn resolve that lay within her eyes.

There is a rabbit\'s nest nearby. +1 Health

Just trying to extend the hunt a bit; Cessair will get this fox eventually!

Great. Now what? The fox Cessair had been chasing dove through a bush, and she, not wanting to waste time crashing through the plant's branches, had leapt over it. She landed on the other side, expecting to see the vixen right in front of her, but there was nothing. Quickly switching from sight to scent, Cessair realized that the fox was still under the bush behind her. She spun around just as her prey darted out and sprinted off in the direction they had just come. The fawn wolf hurdled the bush again and resumed pursuit.

Branches whipped through Cessair's pelt and stung her as she passed, but she ignored the distraction and focused all her attention on the fox. The vermin was retracing it's own steps back toward the den, so Cessair used her memory of the route to anticipate obstacles and quickly close the gap between predator and prey again. Here was the boulder they had passed earlier and she prepared as they curved around it to leap over the fallen tree that waited on the other side. The maneuver was successful, but with no sight of the fox in front of her, Cessair engaged her nose again and kept running. She couldn't see her quarry, but she could still follow its path.

The agile huntress had meant to keep an ear on her hunting partner as she chased the vixen, but she had been so concentrated that she forgot. She felt bad for having left Gent to finish off two adult foxes, even though one had been crippled. Hopefully he fared well nonetheless. Suddenly, Cessair halted, practically sliding through the dirt until her forward momentum succumbed to friction. For a solid twenty seconds she had run forward without so much as a glimpse of the tip of that white-tipped tail. Frantically, she dropped her nose to the ground and thoroughly analyzed the scent she had been blindly following. The fox's scent was still fresh, but it was already smothered by her own. This was the way they had come, but the vixen had not passed back over this part of their trail. It must have swerved off somewhere back by that boulder! Fearful that she may have lost her prey for good, Cessair sprinted back to the location in question and scoured the area for the freshest fox scent.

(This post was last modified: Jul 25, 2015, 03:46 AM by Cessair.)

OOC: NTS - 5 out of 8 for hunting claim.

Gent stood staring down the vixen before him, the woman's brown eyes blazing as she awaited the inevitable with open jaws and silent snarls. His ears swiveled this way and that, listening as Cessair crashed and sliced through the forest around him to chase down the rogue. Wily things, foxes, but they would each meet their end here. Not a single threat to his adopted children would be allowed to exist, especially not right on his doorstep. That was their mistake, and they were paying with their lives. Hopefully, it would serve as a warning to any other predators that tried to encroach that the wolves here were not very tolerant of close neighbors.

Gent trotted forward, no stealth nor urgency given to his posturing this time around. Things were already over he needed only to act, yet the mother fox before him spat and hissed desperate to alter fate itself. She writhed and coiled herself over and over, like a snake curling through the sand, angered and preparing to strike. When there were but a few more yards between them, Gent's easy lope melted into a bolt, all one hundred and fifty pounds of muscle and thick bone careening toward the lithe creature that could only be all of fifteen herself. A raucous series of aggressively futile yipping filled the air before the tiny thing was silenced for good, and her body crumpled at Gent's paws.

He shook the dust and dirt from his coat, the blue sheen freed to peek through the dark black of his fur again. Without ceremony, the man stepped over his fallen foe's body and peered into the foxhole, spying a squirming mass of hungry kits. 

Haha, sorry, this got kind of long! XD

Foxes didn't have a reputation of being sly for nothing. The fleeing vixen had rounded the boulder but continued to circle around it rather than leaping over the fallen tree to continue on the old path. Her still-fresh scent on that path had been enough to fool a distracted Cessair and thus buy her some more time to escape. By the time the huntress rediscovered the fox's trail, she was furious with her failure. Cessair launched into a brisk trot, her nose directed at the scent on the ground, and muttered to herself as she resumed pursuit. "That trick won't work a second time!"

The fox was too far ahead to be visible, but the scent was fresh and distinct. Cessair evicted from her mind any thoughts about her hunting partner -- Gent could easily handle himself with a couple of foxes, so she need not worry. All that mattered at the moment was catching that vixen! Her legs picked up their pace as the little wolf got a feel for her quarry's pattern of flight, but she kept her head lowered somewhat just to be sure of the scent. The fox crossed their previous paths several times already, and Cessair would not be lead astray again. The scent of adrenaline under the fawn woman's nose grew ever more intense, and she knew she was gaining on her prey. Hard running and blind terror would soon drive the fox to exhaustion. Cessair permitted herself a smirk -- she had the advantage of being the huntress and of having nearly boundless stamina.

It was in that moment of pride that a long stick reared up in front of Cessair as her paw pressed down on its other side. A twig from the branch collided with her nose and broke off from the branch. Though the impact stung, the wolf pressed forward. That is, until the overpowering scent of her own blood obscured all other information. Blood oozed from a scratch in the brown velvet of her nose. Cessair gave it a quick lick, but the bleeding persisted. Frustrated and frantic, she rapidly scraped at a patch of moss and then dove her nose into the loosened dirt. The soft earth stayed the flow of blood for now, and the scent was far less powerful. The whole incident took place in a matter of seconds, but what precious seconds they were! The fear and exhaustion in the vixen's scent was again prevalent and Cessair launched herself after it at a gallop.

A minute passed before the white-tipped tail appeared again. The now-tiring woman tapped into her last energy reserves to accelerate into a sprint as a new but familiar scent grew apparent. Ignoring it, the huntress devoted all her attention to the russet form ahead of her. Then the vixen skidded to a stop. No hesitation slowed Cessair's motion as she aimed, pounced, and let momentum do the rest. She collided with her prey and tumbled with it to the ground. The creature's flailing paw caught Cessair's nose and reopened the flow of blood, but that didn't matter anymore. A swift bite to the red-hued neck and a sideways jerk of the head for good measure brought the fox to its end. "At last," Cessair breathed as she slumped over to catch her breath. It wasn't until then that she realized the vixen had come full circle and run back to it's parents' den, undoubtedly hoping to take shelter there in its desperation. The fox had frozen up, allowing Cessair to pounce, upon the sight of an enormous black wolf standing over the carcass of its mother and peering into the den. Cessair licked some of the dirt and blood off her nose and stood back up. ”Hello again, Gent.”