Post by wyanet on May 5, 2010 12:52:05 GMT -5
Thrash Adol Male Cougar
Rikmokri Female Cougar
Pristine Lake
================================================================================
The lake is dark and deep, and in the spring and summer bears lilypads adorned with brightly-colored flowers. Clusters of reeds stand tall in the marshy shallows, and in the thickets surrounding the lake, birds and other small creatures make their nests, creating a cacophony of various sounds. The lake is, most days, a negative of the sky, dark to its blue, save for when it's windy enough for the breeze to break through the trees that ring the water, and the sky grows grey and threatening. At the lake's northern end, a river cuts a course towards the mountain's edge, resulting in a waterfall, its thunderous sound easily heard from here.
With the winter finally having passed, opening the weather to more bright, sunny days, the thick snow is starting to melt away, leaving nothing but soggy puddles, and crunchy ground to step upon. With the snow melting, it has allowed the lake to start to overflow quite a bit, which has served Thrash's attention for the moment as he plods through the ankle high water, sniffing about, hoping to catch himself a fish or two that may have unfortunately washed up on the land. He has finally put a bit more weight on after the long winter which nearly starved the tribe to death, and with food in belly, and sun on his back, he is back to his old ways, stomping about, winking at the ladies, and giving Kein a headache.
Jutting out from the surroundings, several trees offer not only shade, but a decent place to nap. While the early sunlight dapples lace upon the ground, Rikmokri is happily bathed in shadow high above the edge of the lake, and would have probably remained a sleep.. were it not for the sounds below. One gray eye opens to the daylight reluctantly and a pupil swivels low to spy the noise-maker. Hn. Remaining still in her bower, the druid takes a breath and belts out in a strong voice, "Do not wage war with the watery shore, young one, you will lose."
Ah ha! Fish. As Thrash leans his head down slowly, his ears flatten back, and with a quick jerk of his head, he snaps his jaws down into the water and comes back up with... a large twig. He looks ridiculous for a moment, before he spits out the piece of wood, sticking his tongue out with a disgusted look upon his face. "Yech." He says, spitting out a few splinters, before snapping his head upwards at the unfamiliar voice near by. Turning around in the water, he sniffs the air, then squints his eyes. "Who said that? Who's there?" He asks, searching the tree line. Great hunter he is not.
"Your skills at fishing seem to have failed you. As I said, do not make war on the water. You will find your catch plentiful should you work -with- the wet." Not quite an answer to his questions, no, but it does give him another opportunity to pick out where, exactly, the voice is coming from. Though this time, it would seem, the speaker has chosen to make herself known. Stretching greatly within the branches, the pale feline inches her way down the trunk and circles, removing herself from seclusion. Nearly white fur, strange tribal markings of blue, green, and gold. She's also quite large. Full grown, obviously, but bulky through the shoulders to boot. "-I- was there. Now, I am here. What's your name, young one?" Another stretch, this time on the ground, and several stiff vertebrae crackle with the release of pressure.
"Yeah well..." Thrash sputters out, not really much for witty comebacks, at least when it comes to the ladies. Besides, it may not be very appropriate. As she makes herself known, he squints his amber eyes in her direction, then steps out of the water, giving each muddy paw a quick shake off, before trouncing through the snow once more. "I'm not a beaver by any means, I'll get the hang of it soon enough." He says with a rough smirk upon his boxy muzzle, before puffing out his chest some as he settles himself back upon his haunches, giving the white cougar a looking over. "You're not of the Amaranth? Well, I am -Thrash-." He says the name proudly as he gives her a rather overbearing grin.
"Indeed you are." Is the response to his name, and an aire of relaxed amusement sweeps over the marked feline. She sits herself, and takes a moment to stare rather intently at the young male. Perhaps she's sizing him up. Either way, she speaks again, "No. I am of the Mountain Guardians, not the Amaranth. You may call me Rikmokri." The grin isn't mirrored, but the female doesn't seem to disapprove of his presence, nor his mannerism. "You may do well to learn from a beaver, if you meet one." She offers. Helpfully. Maybe. "Why this lake? The fish here prefer the bottom to the surface. It's Eagle hour, after all."
"Well, you better introduce yourself to Kein if you plan on sticking around. He's the chieftain here, and he is not the most friendly of cougars you know. I mean, you're a lady and all, so he'll treat you a bit nicer, but he's rough about the edges." Thrash says as he curls his tail about his hip slowly in a tight wind, before looking back to the lake, then back to her. "I really came here to see how much the lake has over flowed, and to see if it'd be a problem for us later, we don't want to go from being snowed in, to drowning." He says with another wide grin.
"I've gone unnoticed in these woods for the better half of three seasons. Your Chieftan has yet to stumble upon me, though I know of who you speak. He is a boar, but I'm certain he has his reasons." One long foreleg is raised and used to rub at an itch at the side of her head. "The coming of spring is a glad tiding. Perhaps I should meet your Kein. I enjoy this place, and it'd be a shame to be chased out by a pompous male for no reason." A cursory look at the edge of the lake, and the druid nods. "Wise to check on it. The ground will grow soft until the summer heat, though I do not think the melt this year will give you trouble. At least not the drowning kind." She looks back at him with a critical eye and asks, "Are you your Chieftan's scout?"
"Kein is.. complicated." Thrash says with a flatten of his ears back. "But he is a great leader, and he does his best to take care of his family, so he may be a boar, and pompous, but he has my respect." Thrash says with a hint of an edge to his voice. "But yes, you should meet him, because I'm now required to tell him of your presence." At her last question, he gives his shoulders a slow rolling backwards. "I .. I don't really know.. what I am to Kein..." He trails off slowly.
Rikmokri gives a soft laugh at his admission. "If I did not wish to be exposed, I would not have come down. You seemed safe, and I have seen no evidence to the contrary." His trailing is noted, but not touched upon. "I take it you're of the tribe in these parts, then? You seem to know quite a bit about them." Rising, the pale female moves to the edge of the lake and looks down into the rippling water. Melting snow from a nearby branch creates a series of circles, and she watches them while one ear remains trained on the male. "At first glance, it seems to me that what you do know does not give you joy."
"I don't know if I'm apart of the Amaranth. I'm a male, and so therefore.. I can't really be apart of the family, I guess. I am courting his youngest daughter, Maul." Thrash and Maul. Really. The large cougar shifts his shoulders back, and forth slowly as he reaches in to tap at the water's surface, watching it ripple about his paw, and warp his reflection some. "And I have joy, I guess. I am happy for the most part. I'm just trying to figure things out, that's all." He says with a soft breath.
Rikmokri snickers faintly at the mention of 'courting'. Adorable. "I see. When you come of age, why not begin your own tribe? There's nothing wrong with creating a new family that can coexist with one that is already established. Might be worth a thought or three." A wide yawn splits the female's maw and her teeth appear, worn in the back, but properly sharp in the front as they ought to be. "Thrash. And Maul. Those that named you seem to have the thought that life is a constant struggle. Very peculiar." Ears turn and she looks back to the younger. "What have you figured out so far in your lifetime?"
"It's short for Maulisto, I believe. I just call her Maul because she prefers it that way." Thrash says with a snap of his tail back and forth behind him. "My mother named me Thrash, because she was sure I was the one who was thrashing about in her belly before I was born. Always kicking and wanting to claw my way out." He says with a grin on his face, as if the story still amuses him today. "What have I figured out? I dunno.. I guess. Um.. well.. " He trails off, staring down at his large paws. "I figured out that I really hate snow, and starving." Quite the deep thinker this one is.
"Two very essential things to know about one's self." To her credit, she doesn't at all sound like she's mocking him. Nor does her expression mock him as she studies him. "There's a lot to mull over and figure out. It takes time. Though I remember hating that word when I was at your age. Time. Seems like things take forever. But, luckily, there is example of the passage of time all around. Melting snow, for instance. The abundance of green coming, and fresh fish through the streams. And listening to old sods like me never stops being boring, I hate to tell you. You're doomed."
"I don't fear time, I want it to go slowly. The longer the day is, the slower it is that I am going to die, and end up nothing but white bones in the sun. I'd rather be young forever." Thrash says honestly as he gives his tail a faster flick behind him. "And you aren't boring, just odd." He says with a laugh. "Just like Sweet-Rain, and even Maul at times. All spiritual and stuff. It's not what I am used to. My father waged war, and I grew up with the smell of blood on the wind. Fighting, and eating. It's what I'm good at." He says as he loosens his muscles up some as he rocks back and forth upon the balls of his large paws.
Rikmokri allows a slim smile to curl up on her maw. "Dying isn't the end, you know. But, that's a long story for another time." The pale female rises and rolls her shoulders, the colored bars on them rippling. "I must go for now. You'll see me about, likely. Perhaps I'll meet your Kein, perhaps not. Either way, walk well, Thrash." The big female turns and lumbers off into the trees.
Rikmokri Female Cougar
Pristine Lake
================================================================================
The lake is dark and deep, and in the spring and summer bears lilypads adorned with brightly-colored flowers. Clusters of reeds stand tall in the marshy shallows, and in the thickets surrounding the lake, birds and other small creatures make their nests, creating a cacophony of various sounds. The lake is, most days, a negative of the sky, dark to its blue, save for when it's windy enough for the breeze to break through the trees that ring the water, and the sky grows grey and threatening. At the lake's northern end, a river cuts a course towards the mountain's edge, resulting in a waterfall, its thunderous sound easily heard from here.
With the winter finally having passed, opening the weather to more bright, sunny days, the thick snow is starting to melt away, leaving nothing but soggy puddles, and crunchy ground to step upon. With the snow melting, it has allowed the lake to start to overflow quite a bit, which has served Thrash's attention for the moment as he plods through the ankle high water, sniffing about, hoping to catch himself a fish or two that may have unfortunately washed up on the land. He has finally put a bit more weight on after the long winter which nearly starved the tribe to death, and with food in belly, and sun on his back, he is back to his old ways, stomping about, winking at the ladies, and giving Kein a headache.
Jutting out from the surroundings, several trees offer not only shade, but a decent place to nap. While the early sunlight dapples lace upon the ground, Rikmokri is happily bathed in shadow high above the edge of the lake, and would have probably remained a sleep.. were it not for the sounds below. One gray eye opens to the daylight reluctantly and a pupil swivels low to spy the noise-maker. Hn. Remaining still in her bower, the druid takes a breath and belts out in a strong voice, "Do not wage war with the watery shore, young one, you will lose."
Ah ha! Fish. As Thrash leans his head down slowly, his ears flatten back, and with a quick jerk of his head, he snaps his jaws down into the water and comes back up with... a large twig. He looks ridiculous for a moment, before he spits out the piece of wood, sticking his tongue out with a disgusted look upon his face. "Yech." He says, spitting out a few splinters, before snapping his head upwards at the unfamiliar voice near by. Turning around in the water, he sniffs the air, then squints his eyes. "Who said that? Who's there?" He asks, searching the tree line. Great hunter he is not.
"Your skills at fishing seem to have failed you. As I said, do not make war on the water. You will find your catch plentiful should you work -with- the wet." Not quite an answer to his questions, no, but it does give him another opportunity to pick out where, exactly, the voice is coming from. Though this time, it would seem, the speaker has chosen to make herself known. Stretching greatly within the branches, the pale feline inches her way down the trunk and circles, removing herself from seclusion. Nearly white fur, strange tribal markings of blue, green, and gold. She's also quite large. Full grown, obviously, but bulky through the shoulders to boot. "-I- was there. Now, I am here. What's your name, young one?" Another stretch, this time on the ground, and several stiff vertebrae crackle with the release of pressure.
"Yeah well..." Thrash sputters out, not really much for witty comebacks, at least when it comes to the ladies. Besides, it may not be very appropriate. As she makes herself known, he squints his amber eyes in her direction, then steps out of the water, giving each muddy paw a quick shake off, before trouncing through the snow once more. "I'm not a beaver by any means, I'll get the hang of it soon enough." He says with a rough smirk upon his boxy muzzle, before puffing out his chest some as he settles himself back upon his haunches, giving the white cougar a looking over. "You're not of the Amaranth? Well, I am -Thrash-." He says the name proudly as he gives her a rather overbearing grin.
"Indeed you are." Is the response to his name, and an aire of relaxed amusement sweeps over the marked feline. She sits herself, and takes a moment to stare rather intently at the young male. Perhaps she's sizing him up. Either way, she speaks again, "No. I am of the Mountain Guardians, not the Amaranth. You may call me Rikmokri." The grin isn't mirrored, but the female doesn't seem to disapprove of his presence, nor his mannerism. "You may do well to learn from a beaver, if you meet one." She offers. Helpfully. Maybe. "Why this lake? The fish here prefer the bottom to the surface. It's Eagle hour, after all."
"Well, you better introduce yourself to Kein if you plan on sticking around. He's the chieftain here, and he is not the most friendly of cougars you know. I mean, you're a lady and all, so he'll treat you a bit nicer, but he's rough about the edges." Thrash says as he curls his tail about his hip slowly in a tight wind, before looking back to the lake, then back to her. "I really came here to see how much the lake has over flowed, and to see if it'd be a problem for us later, we don't want to go from being snowed in, to drowning." He says with another wide grin.
"I've gone unnoticed in these woods for the better half of three seasons. Your Chieftan has yet to stumble upon me, though I know of who you speak. He is a boar, but I'm certain he has his reasons." One long foreleg is raised and used to rub at an itch at the side of her head. "The coming of spring is a glad tiding. Perhaps I should meet your Kein. I enjoy this place, and it'd be a shame to be chased out by a pompous male for no reason." A cursory look at the edge of the lake, and the druid nods. "Wise to check on it. The ground will grow soft until the summer heat, though I do not think the melt this year will give you trouble. At least not the drowning kind." She looks back at him with a critical eye and asks, "Are you your Chieftan's scout?"
"Kein is.. complicated." Thrash says with a flatten of his ears back. "But he is a great leader, and he does his best to take care of his family, so he may be a boar, and pompous, but he has my respect." Thrash says with a hint of an edge to his voice. "But yes, you should meet him, because I'm now required to tell him of your presence." At her last question, he gives his shoulders a slow rolling backwards. "I .. I don't really know.. what I am to Kein..." He trails off slowly.
Rikmokri gives a soft laugh at his admission. "If I did not wish to be exposed, I would not have come down. You seemed safe, and I have seen no evidence to the contrary." His trailing is noted, but not touched upon. "I take it you're of the tribe in these parts, then? You seem to know quite a bit about them." Rising, the pale female moves to the edge of the lake and looks down into the rippling water. Melting snow from a nearby branch creates a series of circles, and she watches them while one ear remains trained on the male. "At first glance, it seems to me that what you do know does not give you joy."
"I don't know if I'm apart of the Amaranth. I'm a male, and so therefore.. I can't really be apart of the family, I guess. I am courting his youngest daughter, Maul." Thrash and Maul. Really. The large cougar shifts his shoulders back, and forth slowly as he reaches in to tap at the water's surface, watching it ripple about his paw, and warp his reflection some. "And I have joy, I guess. I am happy for the most part. I'm just trying to figure things out, that's all." He says with a soft breath.
Rikmokri snickers faintly at the mention of 'courting'. Adorable. "I see. When you come of age, why not begin your own tribe? There's nothing wrong with creating a new family that can coexist with one that is already established. Might be worth a thought or three." A wide yawn splits the female's maw and her teeth appear, worn in the back, but properly sharp in the front as they ought to be. "Thrash. And Maul. Those that named you seem to have the thought that life is a constant struggle. Very peculiar." Ears turn and she looks back to the younger. "What have you figured out so far in your lifetime?"
"It's short for Maulisto, I believe. I just call her Maul because she prefers it that way." Thrash says with a snap of his tail back and forth behind him. "My mother named me Thrash, because she was sure I was the one who was thrashing about in her belly before I was born. Always kicking and wanting to claw my way out." He says with a grin on his face, as if the story still amuses him today. "What have I figured out? I dunno.. I guess. Um.. well.. " He trails off, staring down at his large paws. "I figured out that I really hate snow, and starving." Quite the deep thinker this one is.
"Two very essential things to know about one's self." To her credit, she doesn't at all sound like she's mocking him. Nor does her expression mock him as she studies him. "There's a lot to mull over and figure out. It takes time. Though I remember hating that word when I was at your age. Time. Seems like things take forever. But, luckily, there is example of the passage of time all around. Melting snow, for instance. The abundance of green coming, and fresh fish through the streams. And listening to old sods like me never stops being boring, I hate to tell you. You're doomed."
"I don't fear time, I want it to go slowly. The longer the day is, the slower it is that I am going to die, and end up nothing but white bones in the sun. I'd rather be young forever." Thrash says honestly as he gives his tail a faster flick behind him. "And you aren't boring, just odd." He says with a laugh. "Just like Sweet-Rain, and even Maul at times. All spiritual and stuff. It's not what I am used to. My father waged war, and I grew up with the smell of blood on the wind. Fighting, and eating. It's what I'm good at." He says as he loosens his muscles up some as he rocks back and forth upon the balls of his large paws.
Rikmokri allows a slim smile to curl up on her maw. "Dying isn't the end, you know. But, that's a long story for another time." The pale female rises and rolls her shoulders, the colored bars on them rippling. "I must go for now. You'll see me about, likely. Perhaps I'll meet your Kein, perhaps not. Either way, walk well, Thrash." The big female turns and lumbers off into the trees.