Whisper Marsh [TfT] Worn chewing stick

Tit for Tat, This or That

Shoved straight into the ground like a pole, a well worn chewing stick stands proudly in the mud. How many teeth have been on this? It seems like a good tooth cleaner. 

The carcass swung from his jaws freely, limp little limbs swaying with each of his jogging steps. With all the practice, he was becoming quite the efficient solitary hunter of small prey. His gifting campaign had begun, an idea that had been born of his trips out to the Marsh to visit with @Hecate as well as his attempts to keep @Skoll and @Elettra cared for, and he found that he much preferred hunting to the patrolling that he had taken up in his earlier months. At least this way he was guaranteed some kind of action, and his penchant for killing could not be denied.

This catch now was for the outcasted mother, a rabbit that had not been nearly quick enough to escape his lethal bite. Already he was thinking that they could shear the paws, ears or tail off--hell, why not all?--for @Attica to play with. Even if she didn't get use out of them, something as soft as rabbit fur to snuggle up to had to be a comfort. Anything that he could do for her, he would, the rageful jealousy he had felt upon discovering her developing existence now gone. He'd been so afraid that she would have the life that had been taken from him, a perfect little family; Sven could not tell if it was reassuring or not to know that she would not. Perhaps it was even guilt that had drawn him to the lonely women.

That wasn't his present concern, though. It was responsibility above all else that compelled him to work, and mandated his many visits. He could not trust his father, perhaps never again; not to keep his word, not to do what was right. Love, always, but never trust, and so Sven would have to ensure that he made up for any and all of Skoll's slacking.

On his way, something caught his attention from the corner of his eye, diverting him momentarily from his beeline route to Hecate's den. A thickly round stick, despite all the wear and tear upon it, was purposefully placed standing straight up from the ground. Curiosity quickly overtaking him, Sven momentarily set the rabbit down to investigate.

His nose worked around the grooves and slices within the wood, trying to glean a hint as to whose it was. Whatever scents had covered it were now faded, however, and he couldn't even be certain that it was a wolf who'd placed it here. Well, if it was abandoned, then it could be his now, right? It would be excellent for Attica once she was a bit older to teeth upon. Decisively, Sven wrapped his jaws around the stick and began to attempt to tug it from the ground.

closing this up since its been 2 weeks without anyone joining. c:

His tugging went undisturbed, and after just a few good yanks the ground gave up its totem and the boy's tail lifted in a victorious wag. It wasn't anything to throw a jamboree over, but it made him happy all the same. As much work as it was to constantly be running from here to there, tracking down any and all small prey catches that he could in between, he also felt this sense of ease while doing it. It came naturally, felt good and anymore, he actually fell into deep sleep rather than being kept away by his racing, bitter mind.

It was hard to look back on that night when he had confronted both Hecate and his father, to recognize the reasons he had so hated the little girl's promise of existence. If only he had known what purpose it would bring to his life.

Scooping up the hare along with the chewing stick was quite the feat, his jaws stretched wide by the attempt, but it would only be for a short ways. Without a second thought as to who he might have stolen from (finders keepers), Sven resumed his day.

(This post was last modified: Jun 18, 2016, 05:09 PM by Sven.)