Post by Therdde on Dec 23, 2008 0:34:49 GMT -5
Characters:
Lykaios - Male Wolf
Largo - Male Alligator
- Two-River Fork -
For as much as he has learned, recently, Lykaios is still one very foolish wolf. In different ways, sure. No longer as violent. But foolish all the same. First, foolishly, he wandered north. Away from Lazuli, even though he returned to these lands to help Lazuli. He wanted to check on the foxes he had befriended, though, and in doing so, he was away from Lazuli when the rivers flooded. He returned too late, by several days, to catch them as they went south. He followed their scent, though. Followed it right into the water. Not the best swimmer even under normal conditions, he quickly found the current entirely too strong for him to battle against. For a time, he managed to keep his head above water, at least mostly.
Unfortunately, luck is really not with the adult male wolf. Worn just by the effort to keep his head up, keep breathing, a particularly swift turn results in his head being submerged. This might not be so bad, but while fighting to get back to the surface, his body slams against a large rock hidden in the swirling water, succeeding in knocking the wind out of him... While he is under the water, with no way to gasp for air. By the time he reaches the surface again, he has inhaled a breath of cold water, and his rise is accompanied by weak coughs, attempts to rid his lungs of the water in them that are ineffective but that keep him conscious easily long enough to realize that there is a good chance that he will not survive this.
Largo is traveling up river, looking around for creatures in and out of the water. He happens upon a wolf, in quite the wrong element. A wolf that's drowning. The gator swims against the currant until he's finally made his way toward the wolf, getting closer by the moment, his slitted reptilian eyes focused on the waterlogged mammal.
While there it plenty of fear in Lykaios, perhaps it is a blessing that he cannot see Largo, for his feeble attempts to remain above water while still trying to expel the rest of the water from his lungs. Even the rocks that he can see, he cannot avoid, and he hits many of them, bruising his flesh and breaking a couple bones. Bones that penetrate the skin, causing him to leave a trail of blood along his path. There is no chance that he could avoid the predatory creature that he cannot see. At least without the sight of the alligator, there is hope along with the fear and pain. Hope that he might be deposited on one of the shores, that he might still survive. Hope that keeps him fighting the current that continually tries to drag him under. Hope that, for now, keeps him alive.
Largo dives under the water when he gets close to the wolf. Typically, this would mean an attack from below. A few moments later he snags the wolf's leg in his mouth. A typical response. And further drags the wolf under water. Yet another typical response. But what happens next is not so typical. He swims toward shore, and when he gets there he drags the wolf partially out and lets his leg go, moving quickly back into the water, circling around to watch the beached wolf with silent, uncaring eyes.
What Largo did was not an act of kindness, even if is was meant as such. Upon being grabbed, startled, he lets out a yelp, which leaves him out of breath when he is summarily dragged under water. By the time he is deposited on shore, he has replaced what water he managed to cough up. Confused, sore, bleeding, and coughing weakly, he is unsure of what is going on, unaware of the eyes watching him. And, as it turns out, what hope he had, the hope that with land would come salvation, was foolish as well. His first attempt to move is met with searing pain from the open fractures, from the tearing against his flesh as his bones do not move as they should, and he collapses with another yelp that sounds entirely unhealthy through the gurgling caused by the cold water still in his lungs.
Largo watches quietly for a few long moments, then swims back up to the land, crawling out. He moves up and deliberately prods the wolf's back with the end of his jaw, giving a light hiss as he does, hoping to get the wolf a bit more active, and a bit less wanting to drown on land.
By the time the Largo returns to the land, Lykaios has at least rid his lungs of the water, or most of it. The chances he will die of drowning are slim. By that time, though, the scent of blood is thick on him, and though he turns his head to look at the prodding to his back, he does not move otherwise. He learned his lesson the first time, with pain more severe than that of any fight he has ever been in or any time he has ever been reprimanded by a superior. Foolishness remains, though, and the sight of the other predator prompts a half-hearted growl, an attempt at posturing, at making himself seem scarier than he really is. It is a tactic he has often used, but he can usually back it up with at least a brief show of physical aggression, instead of with the fearful expression that he cannot hide.
Largo watches the display, stepping back a pace for a moment. But after the fearful expression shows itself, he moves back up. "It would be a waste for you to die, for I had a meal earlier, and could only eat a small part of you." He wobbles around to your front so you can see him easier. "Why arn't you running away, so you can heal and be better prey for the next time I'm hungry?" he asks, his voice deep and slow, as if it were something that had not the will to move very fast.
It is one thing to have his life threatened in a fight, or by the environment. But to have a fellow predator so near him, talking openly about eating him? That is quite another matter, and it keeps Lykaios growling. There is genuine anger in his voice when he says, in his growling tone, "I can't stand." Would he just allow this aquatic beast to eat him? Definitely not, but Lykaios is still recovering from the firey pain caused by his last attempt to stand. His continues looking at Largo, hatred burning in his eyes at the threat from the other predator, his teeth still bared. His body may be broken, but his spirit is far from it.
Largo hmmms and wanders around the wolf, looking him over carefully, making sure to watch him in case he can get up. He then wanders over to a rock, flopping over it as he continues watching this wolf. "How then do you plan to continue surviving?" he asks, rather bluntly, his voice devoid of emotion or care, the cold voice of the reptilian hunter.
The severity of the wounds caused by being repeatedly slammed into rocks can be easily seen. Though the open fractures are mostly hidden by a combination of mud and fur, said fur is turning red with his own blood in many areas, and the water where the back half of Lykaios's body still rests has traces of blood that have not, yet, been washed away. But, though Lykaios is in pain, though he is feeling weaker by the minute, the anger and his own stubborn will prevent him from feeling despondent. "Why's it any of your concern? Just leave me."
Largo relaxes on his rock, apparently content to watch you instead of wandering away. "I wish to see if you survive or not. If you do, I'll have to eat what I can until I'm full, and unfortunately let others take the rest. If you don't, I'll wish to know what direction you wander so I know where to watch for the next time you come by." he states, deadpan. His words have about as much sympathy as if he were talking about the weather.
The alligator bringing Lykaios to land was not kind, but what the alligator insists on doing now is just cruel. Perhaps it serves some purpose, though. Anger still burning in him, Lykaios growls, "The next time you see me, after today, it will be the end of you." An empty threat? Definitely. After giving it, though, Lykaios once more tries to stand. He gets both of his forepaws firmly on the marshy ground, and pushes himself up, sucking in a sharp breath and holding it as the pain intensifies. That is as far as he gets, though. As soon as he tries to bring his back half up, his bruised and fractured hindleg slips on the muddy surface under the water, and he falls, hitting the ground again, far harder than previously, and letting out a piercing yelp.
Largo says, "Then I shall look forward to that day, if it comes, for it's been a while since I've had a good hunt." he counters, looking very serious. He tilts his head a bit at the yelp as you collaspe after the attempt to stand. "If you wish, I could kill you swiftly, so you don't have to suffer." he offers, his snake-like eyes constantly fixed upon your form.
Lykaios will die. He might not have admitted it to himself, yet, but it is inevitable. His suffering will not last much longer, though. Perhaps, had he not attempted to stand, he would have more time, but his attempts to stand have furthered the damage and bleeding. Still, he growls, a little weaker now than before. "I said leave me be." Lykaios does not give up. If there is the slightest chance he could live through this, even mangled, he will take it. He will not go gentle into that good night.
Largo goes quiet, but does not leave. He becomes that ever-present predator on the rock, watching quietly as time ticks by and blood seeps out of the wolf, life leaving him slowly. He seems unconcerned, and does nothing more then watch now.
Noble thoughts of preserving life aside, Lykaios does not again make a single attempt to get to his feet, or, if he does, it is not an attempt that could be recognized as such. He moves, lifting a forepaw only to have it fall heavily against the ground a couple times. He twitches, and even shivers violently for a short while as the blood loss and the portion of his body still surrounded by cold water leeches what warm he has left. In the end, when he dies, it is without a complaint or protest. It is marked only by a final, ragged exhalation of breath as his head falls against the ground and his eyes shut partially.
Largo continues to watch all of this, then crawls down off his rock and over to you, nosing you a few times, then he grabs your lifeless body and draws it into the river once more, never to leave again.
Lykaios - Male Wolf
Largo - Male Alligator
- Two-River Fork -
For as much as he has learned, recently, Lykaios is still one very foolish wolf. In different ways, sure. No longer as violent. But foolish all the same. First, foolishly, he wandered north. Away from Lazuli, even though he returned to these lands to help Lazuli. He wanted to check on the foxes he had befriended, though, and in doing so, he was away from Lazuli when the rivers flooded. He returned too late, by several days, to catch them as they went south. He followed their scent, though. Followed it right into the water. Not the best swimmer even under normal conditions, he quickly found the current entirely too strong for him to battle against. For a time, he managed to keep his head above water, at least mostly.
Unfortunately, luck is really not with the adult male wolf. Worn just by the effort to keep his head up, keep breathing, a particularly swift turn results in his head being submerged. This might not be so bad, but while fighting to get back to the surface, his body slams against a large rock hidden in the swirling water, succeeding in knocking the wind out of him... While he is under the water, with no way to gasp for air. By the time he reaches the surface again, he has inhaled a breath of cold water, and his rise is accompanied by weak coughs, attempts to rid his lungs of the water in them that are ineffective but that keep him conscious easily long enough to realize that there is a good chance that he will not survive this.
Largo is traveling up river, looking around for creatures in and out of the water. He happens upon a wolf, in quite the wrong element. A wolf that's drowning. The gator swims against the currant until he's finally made his way toward the wolf, getting closer by the moment, his slitted reptilian eyes focused on the waterlogged mammal.
While there it plenty of fear in Lykaios, perhaps it is a blessing that he cannot see Largo, for his feeble attempts to remain above water while still trying to expel the rest of the water from his lungs. Even the rocks that he can see, he cannot avoid, and he hits many of them, bruising his flesh and breaking a couple bones. Bones that penetrate the skin, causing him to leave a trail of blood along his path. There is no chance that he could avoid the predatory creature that he cannot see. At least without the sight of the alligator, there is hope along with the fear and pain. Hope that he might be deposited on one of the shores, that he might still survive. Hope that keeps him fighting the current that continually tries to drag him under. Hope that, for now, keeps him alive.
Largo dives under the water when he gets close to the wolf. Typically, this would mean an attack from below. A few moments later he snags the wolf's leg in his mouth. A typical response. And further drags the wolf under water. Yet another typical response. But what happens next is not so typical. He swims toward shore, and when he gets there he drags the wolf partially out and lets his leg go, moving quickly back into the water, circling around to watch the beached wolf with silent, uncaring eyes.
What Largo did was not an act of kindness, even if is was meant as such. Upon being grabbed, startled, he lets out a yelp, which leaves him out of breath when he is summarily dragged under water. By the time he is deposited on shore, he has replaced what water he managed to cough up. Confused, sore, bleeding, and coughing weakly, he is unsure of what is going on, unaware of the eyes watching him. And, as it turns out, what hope he had, the hope that with land would come salvation, was foolish as well. His first attempt to move is met with searing pain from the open fractures, from the tearing against his flesh as his bones do not move as they should, and he collapses with another yelp that sounds entirely unhealthy through the gurgling caused by the cold water still in his lungs.
Largo watches quietly for a few long moments, then swims back up to the land, crawling out. He moves up and deliberately prods the wolf's back with the end of his jaw, giving a light hiss as he does, hoping to get the wolf a bit more active, and a bit less wanting to drown on land.
By the time the Largo returns to the land, Lykaios has at least rid his lungs of the water, or most of it. The chances he will die of drowning are slim. By that time, though, the scent of blood is thick on him, and though he turns his head to look at the prodding to his back, he does not move otherwise. He learned his lesson the first time, with pain more severe than that of any fight he has ever been in or any time he has ever been reprimanded by a superior. Foolishness remains, though, and the sight of the other predator prompts a half-hearted growl, an attempt at posturing, at making himself seem scarier than he really is. It is a tactic he has often used, but he can usually back it up with at least a brief show of physical aggression, instead of with the fearful expression that he cannot hide.
Largo watches the display, stepping back a pace for a moment. But after the fearful expression shows itself, he moves back up. "It would be a waste for you to die, for I had a meal earlier, and could only eat a small part of you." He wobbles around to your front so you can see him easier. "Why arn't you running away, so you can heal and be better prey for the next time I'm hungry?" he asks, his voice deep and slow, as if it were something that had not the will to move very fast.
It is one thing to have his life threatened in a fight, or by the environment. But to have a fellow predator so near him, talking openly about eating him? That is quite another matter, and it keeps Lykaios growling. There is genuine anger in his voice when he says, in his growling tone, "I can't stand." Would he just allow this aquatic beast to eat him? Definitely not, but Lykaios is still recovering from the firey pain caused by his last attempt to stand. His continues looking at Largo, hatred burning in his eyes at the threat from the other predator, his teeth still bared. His body may be broken, but his spirit is far from it.
Largo hmmms and wanders around the wolf, looking him over carefully, making sure to watch him in case he can get up. He then wanders over to a rock, flopping over it as he continues watching this wolf. "How then do you plan to continue surviving?" he asks, rather bluntly, his voice devoid of emotion or care, the cold voice of the reptilian hunter.
The severity of the wounds caused by being repeatedly slammed into rocks can be easily seen. Though the open fractures are mostly hidden by a combination of mud and fur, said fur is turning red with his own blood in many areas, and the water where the back half of Lykaios's body still rests has traces of blood that have not, yet, been washed away. But, though Lykaios is in pain, though he is feeling weaker by the minute, the anger and his own stubborn will prevent him from feeling despondent. "Why's it any of your concern? Just leave me."
Largo relaxes on his rock, apparently content to watch you instead of wandering away. "I wish to see if you survive or not. If you do, I'll have to eat what I can until I'm full, and unfortunately let others take the rest. If you don't, I'll wish to know what direction you wander so I know where to watch for the next time you come by." he states, deadpan. His words have about as much sympathy as if he were talking about the weather.
The alligator bringing Lykaios to land was not kind, but what the alligator insists on doing now is just cruel. Perhaps it serves some purpose, though. Anger still burning in him, Lykaios growls, "The next time you see me, after today, it will be the end of you." An empty threat? Definitely. After giving it, though, Lykaios once more tries to stand. He gets both of his forepaws firmly on the marshy ground, and pushes himself up, sucking in a sharp breath and holding it as the pain intensifies. That is as far as he gets, though. As soon as he tries to bring his back half up, his bruised and fractured hindleg slips on the muddy surface under the water, and he falls, hitting the ground again, far harder than previously, and letting out a piercing yelp.
Largo says, "Then I shall look forward to that day, if it comes, for it's been a while since I've had a good hunt." he counters, looking very serious. He tilts his head a bit at the yelp as you collaspe after the attempt to stand. "If you wish, I could kill you swiftly, so you don't have to suffer." he offers, his snake-like eyes constantly fixed upon your form.
Lykaios will die. He might not have admitted it to himself, yet, but it is inevitable. His suffering will not last much longer, though. Perhaps, had he not attempted to stand, he would have more time, but his attempts to stand have furthered the damage and bleeding. Still, he growls, a little weaker now than before. "I said leave me be." Lykaios does not give up. If there is the slightest chance he could live through this, even mangled, he will take it. He will not go gentle into that good night.
Largo goes quiet, but does not leave. He becomes that ever-present predator on the rock, watching quietly as time ticks by and blood seeps out of the wolf, life leaving him slowly. He seems unconcerned, and does nothing more then watch now.
Noble thoughts of preserving life aside, Lykaios does not again make a single attempt to get to his feet, or, if he does, it is not an attempt that could be recognized as such. He moves, lifting a forepaw only to have it fall heavily against the ground a couple times. He twitches, and even shivers violently for a short while as the blood loss and the portion of his body still surrounded by cold water leeches what warm he has left. In the end, when he dies, it is without a complaint or protest. It is marked only by a final, ragged exhalation of breath as his head falls against the ground and his eyes shut partially.
Largo continues to watch all of this, then crawls down off his rock and over to you, nosing you a few times, then he grabs your lifeless body and draws it into the river once more, never to leave again.
