Post by Therdde on Jul 5, 2011 16:50:54 GMT -5
Characters:
Pauwau - Female Bobcat
Anoki - Male Wolf Pup
Angard - Male Golden Eagle
- Undisclosed Location -
There's a rumbling from above as one of the larger logs blocking the den's entrance shifts in place, bits of dirt crumbling down with the movement and falling over the pair of young captives found below. There's a pause, then it starts again, soon allowing a shaft of bright afternoon light to filter inside in a stark contrast to the gloomy darkness of the blocked burrow. "We need more," comes a feminine voice, soon revealed to be that of the silver-furred bobcat as she steps into view, peering down into the shadows to spy the pair of young ones. "Angard, have you spotted any others yet?"
One said young one; the wolf pup Anoki, has come to sprawl, legs splayed to the sides like a bear pelt, in the dirt, chin down, ears back, and eyes watching the entrance thoughtfully. That shaft of light happens when the logs move.. and the big bob cat thing comes in. The BIRD is scarier than the cat, and even if he thinks he could outrun the bird -- hw so could, he's the fastest fast pup ever! -- he doesn't want to think what might happen to the kittycat in the corner if he did escape. Instead he lets out a whine, long and low.
The eagle remains perched on a branch, peering down at the bobcat and, beneath her, the hole in which they've been keeping the cubs. Dismissively, Angard answers, "A few." The eagle, however, is not eager to go hunting himself again quite yet. Encouraged by the whine, Angard leaps from the branch to glide easily to the ground only a few feet from the hole.
"Where?" Pauwau's reply is just as curt; they are companions brought together by circumstance, nothing more. The feline herself seems to give no visible reaction to the pup's plaintiff whimper, though she does push a small meal into the hole with a sweeping bat of her paw - a small bass she had fished out of the nearby creek a short while earlier. It's not much for a growing pup and cub to share, but at least it's something. They need them alive, after all.
The bass is given a look. The heck is that weird thing? But slowly, painfully, the puppy raises to his feet and half-limps over, sniffing at it, before he begins to tug at the scaley belly, which seems softest, and manages to chew open a hole, to spill the gross guts, but at least it's food. He doesn't like standing right now, his paws are tender-hurt, but he won't say it aloud, won't express his discomfort. Not when they might get angry, and not when the success of the hole -- he's SURE he can figure out a place to dig a better one where there's no rock! -- relies on them not knowing.
So dismissive is Angard's attitude that he does not answer immediately, rather looking around. Where? "That way," he says finally, while looking in the direction he means. "Another pack, like the one he came from. And there is more. Plenty of things to distract them from one missing whelp, just like his pack has been distracted from /their/ missing whelp." Oh, they've noticed, to be certain, but with so much going on, who can be troubled to look for a pup that could easily be lining some creature's stomach? As far as Angard is concerned, that's all to the good.
It's too dark, even with the beam of sunlight, inside the enclosed burrow for Pauwau to notice anything suspicious -- plus, she's far too concerned with making sure neither of their prisoners have escaped (or keeled over, for that matter) to even think of looking for signs of a possible attempt at such. And soon enough, her attentions have returned to the eagle speaking to her nearby. "Good. Keep an eye on it, will you?" she says in a manner that's more a direction than a question. He's a bird, after all -- he clearly has the advantage in such a task over any of the rest of them. "We will strike again when our way is clear."
Ears fleck forward, lay back, and dance forward again. Strike again? Another pack of wolves? But who? There are no other wolves, just his family, and the only other person they're big enough to take is his sister, and Krisha-- Oh no, not Krisha pleeeeeease, both because he doesn't want her screaming Grass all the time, but also because he doesn't want her crying, which she surely will, and as his younger (by minutes) sister, that crying just drives into his heart like a knife and demands action! .. he chews on the fish slowly, taking care to eat only enough for himself, and to leave enough behind for the kittycat should she wake up. She's been sleeping off her fear.. cats are like that, he guesses.
"But of course, Pauwau. I live to serve the cause." As all remains quiet within the den, now that the young animals have been fed, Angard launches himself back up to the branch where he was previously perched, stretching his wings once he is there before focusing his gaze on Pauwau once again.
Not so much as another peep from the frightened pup, and the cub is still sleeping. With a slight shrug of indifference, Pauwau simply moves to shove the displaced branches back into place over the hole, sealing the pair to their fate once more.
Pauwau - Female Bobcat
Anoki - Male Wolf Pup
Angard - Male Golden Eagle
- Undisclosed Location -
There's a rumbling from above as one of the larger logs blocking the den's entrance shifts in place, bits of dirt crumbling down with the movement and falling over the pair of young captives found below. There's a pause, then it starts again, soon allowing a shaft of bright afternoon light to filter inside in a stark contrast to the gloomy darkness of the blocked burrow. "We need more," comes a feminine voice, soon revealed to be that of the silver-furred bobcat as she steps into view, peering down into the shadows to spy the pair of young ones. "Angard, have you spotted any others yet?"
One said young one; the wolf pup Anoki, has come to sprawl, legs splayed to the sides like a bear pelt, in the dirt, chin down, ears back, and eyes watching the entrance thoughtfully. That shaft of light happens when the logs move.. and the big bob cat thing comes in. The BIRD is scarier than the cat, and even if he thinks he could outrun the bird -- hw so could, he's the fastest fast pup ever! -- he doesn't want to think what might happen to the kittycat in the corner if he did escape. Instead he lets out a whine, long and low.
The eagle remains perched on a branch, peering down at the bobcat and, beneath her, the hole in which they've been keeping the cubs. Dismissively, Angard answers, "A few." The eagle, however, is not eager to go hunting himself again quite yet. Encouraged by the whine, Angard leaps from the branch to glide easily to the ground only a few feet from the hole.
"Where?" Pauwau's reply is just as curt; they are companions brought together by circumstance, nothing more. The feline herself seems to give no visible reaction to the pup's plaintiff whimper, though she does push a small meal into the hole with a sweeping bat of her paw - a small bass she had fished out of the nearby creek a short while earlier. It's not much for a growing pup and cub to share, but at least it's something. They need them alive, after all.
The bass is given a look. The heck is that weird thing? But slowly, painfully, the puppy raises to his feet and half-limps over, sniffing at it, before he begins to tug at the scaley belly, which seems softest, and manages to chew open a hole, to spill the gross guts, but at least it's food. He doesn't like standing right now, his paws are tender-hurt, but he won't say it aloud, won't express his discomfort. Not when they might get angry, and not when the success of the hole -- he's SURE he can figure out a place to dig a better one where there's no rock! -- relies on them not knowing.
So dismissive is Angard's attitude that he does not answer immediately, rather looking around. Where? "That way," he says finally, while looking in the direction he means. "Another pack, like the one he came from. And there is more. Plenty of things to distract them from one missing whelp, just like his pack has been distracted from /their/ missing whelp." Oh, they've noticed, to be certain, but with so much going on, who can be troubled to look for a pup that could easily be lining some creature's stomach? As far as Angard is concerned, that's all to the good.
It's too dark, even with the beam of sunlight, inside the enclosed burrow for Pauwau to notice anything suspicious -- plus, she's far too concerned with making sure neither of their prisoners have escaped (or keeled over, for that matter) to even think of looking for signs of a possible attempt at such. And soon enough, her attentions have returned to the eagle speaking to her nearby. "Good. Keep an eye on it, will you?" she says in a manner that's more a direction than a question. He's a bird, after all -- he clearly has the advantage in such a task over any of the rest of them. "We will strike again when our way is clear."
Ears fleck forward, lay back, and dance forward again. Strike again? Another pack of wolves? But who? There are no other wolves, just his family, and the only other person they're big enough to take is his sister, and Krisha-- Oh no, not Krisha pleeeeeease, both because he doesn't want her screaming Grass all the time, but also because he doesn't want her crying, which she surely will, and as his younger (by minutes) sister, that crying just drives into his heart like a knife and demands action! .. he chews on the fish slowly, taking care to eat only enough for himself, and to leave enough behind for the kittycat should she wake up. She's been sleeping off her fear.. cats are like that, he guesses.
"But of course, Pauwau. I live to serve the cause." As all remains quiet within the den, now that the young animals have been fed, Angard launches himself back up to the branch where he was previously perched, stretching his wings once he is there before focusing his gaze on Pauwau once again.
Not so much as another peep from the frightened pup, and the cub is still sleeping. With a slight shrug of indifference, Pauwau simply moves to shove the displaced branches back into place over the hole, sealing the pair to their fate once more.