Post by Ashen on May 15, 2006 21:16:04 GMT -5
(I'm so horrible with titles 
)
Paddock Pond
================================================================================
It is located a ways out in the pasture, this pond. It's a small little body of water, but it works well enough to serve it's purpose - to provide a place for nearby animals to quench their thirst without the farmer having to worry about providing the water himself. The grass grows almost right up to the edge of the pond, with only the slightest hint of a soft, dirt bank before the water starts. The water isn't very deep - a medium-sized dog could stand in the middle of it and it would only reach his chest - and is just the right temperature for drinking, usually being neither too cold or too warm. A lone tree stands a few steps removed from the pond, a quiet observer over all that occurs here. Every so often, as a breeze rustles through its branches, a leaf or two will drop to the water and rest serenely on the surface.
=================================== Exits ===================================
[North] through the Pasture [South] to the Meadow
[Southwest] to a Flowery Field
================================================================================
[IC] Catbait
[LRP] Freyr
[LRP] Duckweed
A flutter of wings, a silly clucking noise, and there is a bird where none was before. Oh and what a magnificent bird, yes indeed. He takes a moment to strut this way and that before moving toward the water, just in case anyone happened to be watching. His long tail flicks upward as he dips his head down to sip delicately.
Duckweed is busy basking on an exposed rock when a sudden noise alerts him. In half a second he's identified the new arrival and in the next, he's made a spectacular dive for the water. This turtle takes no chances! A lound splash follows his hsty exit, surely alerting the bird to his own presence.
Ambling in from the south, comes the furry figure of a young, but still bulky, young dog. With a tongue dangling from the side of his mouth, Freyr certainly holds a rather idiotic appearance. But dopey he is not, and although wandering into the pasture was a foolish act in itself, the canine is nonetheless cautious. Brown eyes roll over the area, keeping all things within sight, and himself a distance from them. The bird is the first thing to really get his attention, followed soon by the turtle... or rather, the sound of it diving. Floppy ears perking as high as they can, Freyr makes his way toward the pond, nose shifting as it samples the air.
Catbait dips his head to drink, lifts it to peer around and swallow, dips it to drink, lifts it to peer around and swallow. The splash of the turtle does indeed surprise him, and he flutters into the air in response. Circling the pond from above, he scolds himself for his foolishness. Just a turtle, and how had he missed it? Bah...It's lucky that he took to the air when he did, however, and as he spots the approaching dog, his embarrassment fades. Of course! It's all part of the Plan...the turtle startled him into the air, and so he spots the dog. Of course, of course, silly of him to question. And so of course he squawks, announcing the dog's arrival to any small animals who might not have heard or smelled him coming.
Duckweed is one of those small animals who hadn't been alerted to the dog. He ducks down deeper into the water and swims towards the shore, leaving a fine stream of bubbles in his wake. Oh oh, this is not good. Not good at all. First a bird and now a *dog* of all things.
It is now your pose.
Freyr watches, with perhaps a touch more amusement than he should, the reaction his approach brings. luckily for the magpie and the turtle, they aren't quite large enough to justify the trouble of going after them. He's only in it for the drink, anyway. Not that he's immediately intending to let them know that. He finds some, small pleasure in watching critters scurry for their life at the sight of him.
Catbait keeps a wary eye on the dog for a moment before coming to land on the opposite side of the pond. He wasn't done with his drink, and he'll be damned if he's going to let some stinky old dog scare him away to another watering hole. He turns one beady black eye upon the dog once he's settled.
All Duckweed can do is quiver within his shell and wait for the dog to go away. Tentatively, he lifts up his head to the water's surface and takes in a deep breath. He hoped that the dog wouldn't notice his nose sticking out of the water and that it didn't have a taste for turtle.
Freyr comes to a stop once he's near to the pond, glancing once at the turtle, and once at the bird. Then he keeps walking, on until he's waded into the water, though only deep enough for his two forepaws to submerge. For a second, he enjoys the feeling of cool liquid against his severely cracked and torn pads, and then it's down to drinking. But first... "Oh, come on now. There's nothing to worry about." He mumbles hoarsely, mostly to the bird now that the turtle seems to have vanished. Shaking away a bit of spittle, the canine then goes about what he came here for, lapping at the water with much sloppiness and splatter.
Catbait squawks in distaste at the dog's slovenliness. Have some respect, for Nature's sake! Bah...with the dog occupied, at least he can finish drinking his fill, and he does so, sipping once more at the pond's surface, tail flicked up as his head bends down.
It is now your pose.
Freyr, alas, sees little wrong with disrespecting water. Hey, it can't get back at him, right? Nothing to worry about. Even less thought is given when the dogs finishes and gives his now rather dampened head and good shake. Then, pulling up one side of his muzzle in a half-grin, the dog steadies a stare right back on the magpie. "Hey, you, bird. Perhaps you'd be good enough to help me." He doesn't expect a affirmative answer. With his thrist taken care of, Freyr now moves toward further amusing himself by being a bother.
Catbait takes a few hops back at the shaking, casting a disapproving glare at the dog. "Help you? Help you with what, should I?" He ruffles his feathers, puffing up, and then smoothing out.
Freyr sits down, without removing his feet from the water. "Oh, it's nothing special I imagine." He stops to run his tongue over a few teeth. "I'm so horribly new to this general patch of ground. I know nothing of the land, but I was hoping you'd be able to tell me anything about it. Anything at all, big or small." He finally stands again, returning to dry land and hunkering down on the ground, but still keeping alert. He smells the scent of other dogs. Man-owned dogs, and those are always trouble.
The bird hesitates, looking mildly confused. Dogs go with humans, and there were humans nearby, so it stands to reason this dog should be with the humans. His statement of being new in the area trumps this previous dog knowledge, and thus, confuses the magpie. He recovers quickly, however, and sizes up the dog more carefully. "Not from here, eh? Farm dogs get a sniff of you, they'll have your hide, don't care how big you are."
A few chuckles, a sound likened to that of boiling water, bubble up from Freyr's throat. "Yes, they will, won't they? Oh well, I won't be here long, unfortunately for them blood-thirsty servents." He noses at the ground once, before rolling over a few times. "Was the point of asking. I'd hope you could point me out someplace to sleep where I'd not get my skin ripped off while I'm doing it."
Catbait tut-tuts in amusement, shaking his head, "You stick 'round here, the farm dogs or the farmer might come after you. Go too deep into the woods and you'll have to contend with wolves. Someplace b'tween the deep forest and the meadows seems most likely."
Freyr stretches to his feet, muzzle dropping open in a rumbling yawn. And after snapping those jaws shut again, the dog dips his head. "Ah, good enough I suppose." Farm-dogs AND wolves. This is shaping up to be quite the risky place to live. But fearful about it, he is not. "My thanks, bird. And now, I should take my leave, before somebody finds my stench and starts a fuss."
Catbait scoffs. He cannot comment on the dog's stench, however, not being possessed of a sense of smell, himself. He bobs his head politely, then bursts skyward, heading off to see if he can't rustle up some grubs...literally.
With a wag of his curled, fur-matted tail, the young dog takes off in a brisk trot, heading off and away.
)Paddock Pond
================================================================================
It is located a ways out in the pasture, this pond. It's a small little body of water, but it works well enough to serve it's purpose - to provide a place for nearby animals to quench their thirst without the farmer having to worry about providing the water himself. The grass grows almost right up to the edge of the pond, with only the slightest hint of a soft, dirt bank before the water starts. The water isn't very deep - a medium-sized dog could stand in the middle of it and it would only reach his chest - and is just the right temperature for drinking, usually being neither too cold or too warm. A lone tree stands a few steps removed from the pond, a quiet observer over all that occurs here. Every so often, as a breeze rustles through its branches, a leaf or two will drop to the water and rest serenely on the surface.
=================================== Exits ===================================
[North] through the Pasture [South] to the Meadow
[Southwest] to a Flowery Field
================================================================================
[IC] Catbait
[LRP] Freyr
[LRP] Duckweed
A flutter of wings, a silly clucking noise, and there is a bird where none was before. Oh and what a magnificent bird, yes indeed. He takes a moment to strut this way and that before moving toward the water, just in case anyone happened to be watching. His long tail flicks upward as he dips his head down to sip delicately.
Duckweed is busy basking on an exposed rock when a sudden noise alerts him. In half a second he's identified the new arrival and in the next, he's made a spectacular dive for the water. This turtle takes no chances! A lound splash follows his hsty exit, surely alerting the bird to his own presence.
Ambling in from the south, comes the furry figure of a young, but still bulky, young dog. With a tongue dangling from the side of his mouth, Freyr certainly holds a rather idiotic appearance. But dopey he is not, and although wandering into the pasture was a foolish act in itself, the canine is nonetheless cautious. Brown eyes roll over the area, keeping all things within sight, and himself a distance from them. The bird is the first thing to really get his attention, followed soon by the turtle... or rather, the sound of it diving. Floppy ears perking as high as they can, Freyr makes his way toward the pond, nose shifting as it samples the air.
Catbait dips his head to drink, lifts it to peer around and swallow, dips it to drink, lifts it to peer around and swallow. The splash of the turtle does indeed surprise him, and he flutters into the air in response. Circling the pond from above, he scolds himself for his foolishness. Just a turtle, and how had he missed it? Bah...It's lucky that he took to the air when he did, however, and as he spots the approaching dog, his embarrassment fades. Of course! It's all part of the Plan...the turtle startled him into the air, and so he spots the dog. Of course, of course, silly of him to question. And so of course he squawks, announcing the dog's arrival to any small animals who might not have heard or smelled him coming.
Duckweed is one of those small animals who hadn't been alerted to the dog. He ducks down deeper into the water and swims towards the shore, leaving a fine stream of bubbles in his wake. Oh oh, this is not good. Not good at all. First a bird and now a *dog* of all things.
It is now your pose.
Freyr watches, with perhaps a touch more amusement than he should, the reaction his approach brings. luckily for the magpie and the turtle, they aren't quite large enough to justify the trouble of going after them. He's only in it for the drink, anyway. Not that he's immediately intending to let them know that. He finds some, small pleasure in watching critters scurry for their life at the sight of him.
Catbait keeps a wary eye on the dog for a moment before coming to land on the opposite side of the pond. He wasn't done with his drink, and he'll be damned if he's going to let some stinky old dog scare him away to another watering hole. He turns one beady black eye upon the dog once he's settled.
All Duckweed can do is quiver within his shell and wait for the dog to go away. Tentatively, he lifts up his head to the water's surface and takes in a deep breath. He hoped that the dog wouldn't notice his nose sticking out of the water and that it didn't have a taste for turtle.
Freyr comes to a stop once he's near to the pond, glancing once at the turtle, and once at the bird. Then he keeps walking, on until he's waded into the water, though only deep enough for his two forepaws to submerge. For a second, he enjoys the feeling of cool liquid against his severely cracked and torn pads, and then it's down to drinking. But first... "Oh, come on now. There's nothing to worry about." He mumbles hoarsely, mostly to the bird now that the turtle seems to have vanished. Shaking away a bit of spittle, the canine then goes about what he came here for, lapping at the water with much sloppiness and splatter.
Catbait squawks in distaste at the dog's slovenliness. Have some respect, for Nature's sake! Bah...with the dog occupied, at least he can finish drinking his fill, and he does so, sipping once more at the pond's surface, tail flicked up as his head bends down.
It is now your pose.
Freyr, alas, sees little wrong with disrespecting water. Hey, it can't get back at him, right? Nothing to worry about. Even less thought is given when the dogs finishes and gives his now rather dampened head and good shake. Then, pulling up one side of his muzzle in a half-grin, the dog steadies a stare right back on the magpie. "Hey, you, bird. Perhaps you'd be good enough to help me." He doesn't expect a affirmative answer. With his thrist taken care of, Freyr now moves toward further amusing himself by being a bother.
Catbait takes a few hops back at the shaking, casting a disapproving glare at the dog. "Help you? Help you with what, should I?" He ruffles his feathers, puffing up, and then smoothing out.
Freyr sits down, without removing his feet from the water. "Oh, it's nothing special I imagine." He stops to run his tongue over a few teeth. "I'm so horribly new to this general patch of ground. I know nothing of the land, but I was hoping you'd be able to tell me anything about it. Anything at all, big or small." He finally stands again, returning to dry land and hunkering down on the ground, but still keeping alert. He smells the scent of other dogs. Man-owned dogs, and those are always trouble.
The bird hesitates, looking mildly confused. Dogs go with humans, and there were humans nearby, so it stands to reason this dog should be with the humans. His statement of being new in the area trumps this previous dog knowledge, and thus, confuses the magpie. He recovers quickly, however, and sizes up the dog more carefully. "Not from here, eh? Farm dogs get a sniff of you, they'll have your hide, don't care how big you are."
A few chuckles, a sound likened to that of boiling water, bubble up from Freyr's throat. "Yes, they will, won't they? Oh well, I won't be here long, unfortunately for them blood-thirsty servents." He noses at the ground once, before rolling over a few times. "Was the point of asking. I'd hope you could point me out someplace to sleep where I'd not get my skin ripped off while I'm doing it."
Catbait tut-tuts in amusement, shaking his head, "You stick 'round here, the farm dogs or the farmer might come after you. Go too deep into the woods and you'll have to contend with wolves. Someplace b'tween the deep forest and the meadows seems most likely."
Freyr stretches to his feet, muzzle dropping open in a rumbling yawn. And after snapping those jaws shut again, the dog dips his head. "Ah, good enough I suppose." Farm-dogs AND wolves. This is shaping up to be quite the risky place to live. But fearful about it, he is not. "My thanks, bird. And now, I should take my leave, before somebody finds my stench and starts a fuss."
Catbait scoffs. He cannot comment on the dog's stench, however, not being possessed of a sense of smell, himself. He bobs his head politely, then bursts skyward, heading off to see if he can't rustle up some grubs...literally.
With a wag of his curled, fur-matted tail, the young dog takes off in a brisk trot, heading off and away.