Post by Azoto on Jun 28, 2010 18:33:37 GMT -5
Players:
Niabi - (F) Elk
Sarge - (M) Dog
Setting:
Sparse Copse-
Several elms rise up out of the rolling landscape: three, set in a rough triangle, the ground beneath rich with the smell of their rotted leaves from years past. They're old, gnarled, their trunks scarred. Still, their branches reach up to the sky, and out to one another, three old men supporting each other in their age. One elm seems to be dying; while the others are leaved, many of this elm's branches are bare.
A greyish, rainy morning seems to be bent on casting a heavy rain for noon and perhaps even a heavier storm for the night; and the air has a chill to it that causes one's breath to be seen slightly; though thankfully not cold enough to cause ice or frost; just misery. At least for some. For Sarge, it's just another day. Life has become so many 'other days' since the winter faded; he's not _tired_ of it, he's just _bored_. At least thanks to Jethro he's not bored and in irritated pain from that blasted man-made hell-contraption of a harness that had been getting tight and cutting into his body. Still walking with a slight limp, his head lowered and ears casting about him for any slight sound, he's making his way through the trees, following scents, looking for something to do.
This rainy of a day has been kind of a mixed bag for Niabi. On the negative side, it resulted in Jurombi running through mud puddles all morning, leaving himself an a small patch of the forest a total mess. On the plus side, he's completely worn himself out already so Niabi showed him a dry place to nap and she's taking the opportunity to graze before the rain gets any worse. Another bad effect of rain is that it tends to wash away scent, and both the sound and the wetness of the rain make hearing danger less reliable. Of course, the reverse is also true for anyone hunting, so Niabi is no more or less alert than usual. The only sounds she's making are the quiet sounds of grasses being clipped and chewed by her teeth.
A huff of breath issues from the dog as he pauses on the edge of the copse, looking up from the grass and ground to find himself looking at an open circle of forest. While scent is washes away that doesn't necessarily mean it will reamin washed away; Sarge will be smelling like wet dog once the rain has cleared, not that it bothers him. His scan across the copse doesn't realy bring him much good news; there's an elk cow that he can see; and what faint scents of marking are left by the rain tell him there's probably more somewhere nearby. But hungry as he is, he knows better than to just decide 'hunt or die'; especially when elk are pretty darn big. Not as big as moose, but.. close. He grunts o himself.. And then decides maybe a quick chat with this cow might lead him to easier game. He starts her way slowly.
While her senses of scent and sound are compromised by the weather, it doesn't do a thing to Niabi's eyesight. And when a dog comes into view she spots him nearly instantly. For half a second she freezes, as that thing looked an awful lot like a wolf from the corner of her eye, but she knows what a dog is. And she really, /really/ does not like dogs. There's a certain history that she has with that particular species. She turns and faces him, her narrowed eyes and grinding full of near-instant hatred. Her voice, however, is surprisingly neutral though that may only seem creepier given the contrast between it and her expression, "I don't suppose you know where you are, do you?"
"Ayeuh," Sarge replies simply, coming only close enough so as to be heard through the rain; at which point he sits. "Middle of the woods, near a spring, south of what might have once been human lands." he says, continuing his statement. He watches her calmly; and for a moment, it seems almost like he _might_ smile; not that he honestly ever smiles. Instead he snorts what could be a half sneeze, then says, "More importantly, deer country, and starin' at a cow who probably has good reason not to like me being here, except I ain't lookin' for no little'uns to munch on, nor am I dumb enough to go barking my fool head off at you or others while chasing you around in some vague hope I might catch one of you."
There isn't even the slightest of changes in Niabi's expression except for one ear twisting back. "I suppose that's a valid description," she says, as her weight slowly shifts from one forehoof to the other, "But what you may not quite grasp is that by being in 'deer country' you are trespassing. And I don't care what you do or do not intend to do; I only care whether you'd like to leave willingly or unwillingly." Though her tone remains neutral, it get just enough tension in it to emphasize that yes, that was a threat. Niabi does not beat around the bush when it comes to dogs - no, not even a little bit.
"Oh, I intend to leave willingly," the thick-coated dog says, simply. "And I don't care iffen I'm 'tresspassing' considering I'm only passing through and ain't got no intent of botherin' you." Sarge pauses, and then considers this cow before him, who seems to be willing to defend territory all on her own; she'd be able to do it, too, he knows. But he's hoping she's also willing to at least remain civil long enough to answer a question or two. If she isn't, well. That's on her, not him, and he'll just have to run, won't he. "Now as I said, I intend to leave willingly. But I also intend to get some knowledge from a lady like yourself who probably knows these woods here better than me. Which direction would you say I should go iffen I'm looking for a rabbit warren or rat colony to think the numbers of?"
The ear twitches once again - perhaps the dog will notice it's linked to when Niabi would like to make a sarcastic retort but doesn't. She's much too old and has too much self control to actually do such a thing, after all. Despite a vague growing tension in her expression that may indicate that her patience has some very real and approaching limits, she waits to hear the question before she decides she's heard enough. The question doesn't seem to please her even slightly, because she scowls and answers, "The rabbits I know are close personal friends of mine, and the only rats I've seen were just passing through." Well, at least there's /some/ useful information to be gleaned from that.
A very real smirk crosses the big galoot's face a moment, before Sarge once more returns to a nature of serious dog is serious. "Sorry, I didn't mean to insult, but I rather figured maybe a cow like yourself would prefer a dog go bothering rabbits or rats instead of her calf, which is likely about here somewhere." Hey, if she can give threats, veiled or no, so can he. Sarge moves to stand then asks, "Well then, one last question before I take off. Do you know of any already dead animals in the area, or those about to die that would prefer a swift end to a slow death, that y'all could point me to? If I can get away with not doing much work that's preferable after all."
"No, I don't," Niabi replies quickly, seeming all too eager to answer the question since the dog said that it would be the last one. And though she definately noticed the threat - both that /and/ the comment about bothering rabbits caused another ear twitch - it doesn't seem to bother her at all. If she can't protect her calf from one intrusive dog then she can hardly consider herself an elk, now can she? Especially not with her background. Though she's been careful not to make the slightest move that would indicate the direction of Jurombi's hiding place, she doesn't assume for a second that the dog didn't somehow figure it out - she considers hiding him to actually be a backup strategy, the primary one is that she's there to protect him. "Now would you kindly escort yourself out of our lands? And do us both a favor by not coming back - it would save you and whoever runs you off a lot of work," she says with just a hint of false friendliness.
"Maybe." Sarge says, with a snort-- again at the rain more than the elk. "I'll leave here, sure. But the woods are big, and a dog's gotta eat. So I might end up somewhere else in these parts looking for food. I wager as long as you don't specifically come after me to hunt me down for being in, say, some part of the stream area or soemthing, I dn't have to bother with you. I'm rather sure you're a smart girl though, know that you can't call the whole world off limits with a few sprinkles of wee, and consider it observed." He smirks, as he turns, and starts walking away-- Indeed, in the direction of the stream; but it's at least /away/.
Niabi - (F) Elk
Sarge - (M) Dog
Setting:
Sparse Copse-
Several elms rise up out of the rolling landscape: three, set in a rough triangle, the ground beneath rich with the smell of their rotted leaves from years past. They're old, gnarled, their trunks scarred. Still, their branches reach up to the sky, and out to one another, three old men supporting each other in their age. One elm seems to be dying; while the others are leaved, many of this elm's branches are bare.
A greyish, rainy morning seems to be bent on casting a heavy rain for noon and perhaps even a heavier storm for the night; and the air has a chill to it that causes one's breath to be seen slightly; though thankfully not cold enough to cause ice or frost; just misery. At least for some. For Sarge, it's just another day. Life has become so many 'other days' since the winter faded; he's not _tired_ of it, he's just _bored_. At least thanks to Jethro he's not bored and in irritated pain from that blasted man-made hell-contraption of a harness that had been getting tight and cutting into his body. Still walking with a slight limp, his head lowered and ears casting about him for any slight sound, he's making his way through the trees, following scents, looking for something to do.
This rainy of a day has been kind of a mixed bag for Niabi. On the negative side, it resulted in Jurombi running through mud puddles all morning, leaving himself an a small patch of the forest a total mess. On the plus side, he's completely worn himself out already so Niabi showed him a dry place to nap and she's taking the opportunity to graze before the rain gets any worse. Another bad effect of rain is that it tends to wash away scent, and both the sound and the wetness of the rain make hearing danger less reliable. Of course, the reverse is also true for anyone hunting, so Niabi is no more or less alert than usual. The only sounds she's making are the quiet sounds of grasses being clipped and chewed by her teeth.
A huff of breath issues from the dog as he pauses on the edge of the copse, looking up from the grass and ground to find himself looking at an open circle of forest. While scent is washes away that doesn't necessarily mean it will reamin washed away; Sarge will be smelling like wet dog once the rain has cleared, not that it bothers him. His scan across the copse doesn't realy bring him much good news; there's an elk cow that he can see; and what faint scents of marking are left by the rain tell him there's probably more somewhere nearby. But hungry as he is, he knows better than to just decide 'hunt or die'; especially when elk are pretty darn big. Not as big as moose, but.. close. He grunts o himself.. And then decides maybe a quick chat with this cow might lead him to easier game. He starts her way slowly.
While her senses of scent and sound are compromised by the weather, it doesn't do a thing to Niabi's eyesight. And when a dog comes into view she spots him nearly instantly. For half a second she freezes, as that thing looked an awful lot like a wolf from the corner of her eye, but she knows what a dog is. And she really, /really/ does not like dogs. There's a certain history that she has with that particular species. She turns and faces him, her narrowed eyes and grinding full of near-instant hatred. Her voice, however, is surprisingly neutral though that may only seem creepier given the contrast between it and her expression, "I don't suppose you know where you are, do you?"
"Ayeuh," Sarge replies simply, coming only close enough so as to be heard through the rain; at which point he sits. "Middle of the woods, near a spring, south of what might have once been human lands." he says, continuing his statement. He watches her calmly; and for a moment, it seems almost like he _might_ smile; not that he honestly ever smiles. Instead he snorts what could be a half sneeze, then says, "More importantly, deer country, and starin' at a cow who probably has good reason not to like me being here, except I ain't lookin' for no little'uns to munch on, nor am I dumb enough to go barking my fool head off at you or others while chasing you around in some vague hope I might catch one of you."
There isn't even the slightest of changes in Niabi's expression except for one ear twisting back. "I suppose that's a valid description," she says, as her weight slowly shifts from one forehoof to the other, "But what you may not quite grasp is that by being in 'deer country' you are trespassing. And I don't care what you do or do not intend to do; I only care whether you'd like to leave willingly or unwillingly." Though her tone remains neutral, it get just enough tension in it to emphasize that yes, that was a threat. Niabi does not beat around the bush when it comes to dogs - no, not even a little bit.
"Oh, I intend to leave willingly," the thick-coated dog says, simply. "And I don't care iffen I'm 'tresspassing' considering I'm only passing through and ain't got no intent of botherin' you." Sarge pauses, and then considers this cow before him, who seems to be willing to defend territory all on her own; she'd be able to do it, too, he knows. But he's hoping she's also willing to at least remain civil long enough to answer a question or two. If she isn't, well. That's on her, not him, and he'll just have to run, won't he. "Now as I said, I intend to leave willingly. But I also intend to get some knowledge from a lady like yourself who probably knows these woods here better than me. Which direction would you say I should go iffen I'm looking for a rabbit warren or rat colony to think the numbers of?"
The ear twitches once again - perhaps the dog will notice it's linked to when Niabi would like to make a sarcastic retort but doesn't. She's much too old and has too much self control to actually do such a thing, after all. Despite a vague growing tension in her expression that may indicate that her patience has some very real and approaching limits, she waits to hear the question before she decides she's heard enough. The question doesn't seem to please her even slightly, because she scowls and answers, "The rabbits I know are close personal friends of mine, and the only rats I've seen were just passing through." Well, at least there's /some/ useful information to be gleaned from that.
A very real smirk crosses the big galoot's face a moment, before Sarge once more returns to a nature of serious dog is serious. "Sorry, I didn't mean to insult, but I rather figured maybe a cow like yourself would prefer a dog go bothering rabbits or rats instead of her calf, which is likely about here somewhere." Hey, if she can give threats, veiled or no, so can he. Sarge moves to stand then asks, "Well then, one last question before I take off. Do you know of any already dead animals in the area, or those about to die that would prefer a swift end to a slow death, that y'all could point me to? If I can get away with not doing much work that's preferable after all."
"No, I don't," Niabi replies quickly, seeming all too eager to answer the question since the dog said that it would be the last one. And though she definately noticed the threat - both that /and/ the comment about bothering rabbits caused another ear twitch - it doesn't seem to bother her at all. If she can't protect her calf from one intrusive dog then she can hardly consider herself an elk, now can she? Especially not with her background. Though she's been careful not to make the slightest move that would indicate the direction of Jurombi's hiding place, she doesn't assume for a second that the dog didn't somehow figure it out - she considers hiding him to actually be a backup strategy, the primary one is that she's there to protect him. "Now would you kindly escort yourself out of our lands? And do us both a favor by not coming back - it would save you and whoever runs you off a lot of work," she says with just a hint of false friendliness.
"Maybe." Sarge says, with a snort-- again at the rain more than the elk. "I'll leave here, sure. But the woods are big, and a dog's gotta eat. So I might end up somewhere else in these parts looking for food. I wager as long as you don't specifically come after me to hunt me down for being in, say, some part of the stream area or soemthing, I dn't have to bother with you. I'm rather sure you're a smart girl though, know that you can't call the whole world off limits with a few sprinkles of wee, and consider it observed." He smirks, as he turns, and starts walking away-- Indeed, in the direction of the stream; but it's at least /away/.