Ankyra Sound he plays that choctaw bingo
coonass
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the ocean beckoned him, and he didn't have enough will to ignore it. buck couldn't help but to admit that he missed the water more than he dared to admit. of course, the cajun didn't like to think that he relied on anything, but that would have been a bold-faced lie. so, he made his way toward the coast as nonchalantly as he could. the closer he drew, the more his heart began to heave. when the fresh blast of briney wind smacked against his face, buckshot could feel the hairs along his back and shoulders stand on end. there was nothing quite like it, and he had missed the seaside nearly as much as he missed the bog. 

large jutting stones rose upward on either side of a careful entrance. just beyond, the cajun brute thought he could scent the distant smell of other wolves. there was a high population, he'd realized, in the teekon wilds. without much pause, the brute made his way through the great stone guardians on either side and down into the beach. there, buck stopped and gathered himself. he'd finally made it to the shoreline, and even though it wasn't the swamps he was fond of, he felt a little more at peace. 


Remedy note: I used this to test the new threadlog feature, hence the edit!
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From the guidebook: By 12 weeks, pups can follow adults on short solo hunting trips and are capable of returning to the rendezvous by themselves.

Now that Sequoia was getting older, her parents were a bit more lenient with her wandering off on her own. She had been watching her mother, @Portia, hunt some small game, though Sequoia had not been involved herself. She had merely been there to observe and learn -- that much had been made clear to her. Once a few small animals had been caught (most of them eaten by Sequoia and her siblings), the rest was to be taken back to the pack's caches. Sequoia decided to stick around for a little while longer, promising her mother that she would be home before dark.

She had been taught -- like any pup her age -- to be wary of strangers, but that wasn't to say she had to ignore them entirely. Sequoia was still young, naive, and plenty willing to chat anybody up who had the time and patience to do so. When she spotted another wolf on the beach (one that did not bring a familiar color her mind), she trotted toward him apprehensively, but she kept her friendly upbeat attitude.

"Hello!" she greeted, tail wagging and tongue lolling out to one side.
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coonass
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it was a voice that rattled him from his own thoughts and forced him to whirl on a small figure. buck roamed her with a scrutinizing gaze - openly and unashamed - before he cracked a grin that revealed the gnarled yellow fangs beneath his lip. the cajun brute hadn't been fond of pups, but this little gator was about the sweetest thing he'd happened across since arriving in the new land. without much pause, the bear flagged his tail and turned around so that he could face her properly. her coloration was unique and the swamp scoundrel couldn't help but to focus on the contrasting apple green and burnt umber of her gaze. 

"well, i'll be! you's abou de sweetest thang i's come across," he exclaimed in a booming baritone. there was little shame in how loud or how large buckshot was; he expected everyone else to rise to his occasion. "what's yer name, darlin?" the cajun then requested with a pleasant twinkle in the argent color of his gaze. he lowered his skull some so that he didn't apppear quite as outlandish as he seemed. 
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He talked funny, kinda like that injured wolf that had shown up at their borders a while back. Sequoia recalled Helix and Dio being there, but the two strangers had not been allowed to join them. This wasn't a joiner, and he wasn't injured. Her brain, doing that thing it did, associated him with a dark burgundy. It wasn't unlike the coloration of his fur, which was rare in Sequoia's experience. Usually wolves did not smell like any color that they actually had on them.

His voice was loud, but it didn't scare Sequoia away. Instead, she felt her cheeks grow hot beneath her white fur when he complimented her.

"I'm Sequoia," she replied, giving little weight to the value of her name. "What's your name, mister?"
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coonass
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i'm sequoia.

"tha's a tree, innit?" the cajun inquired with only the slightest canting of his skull. "well, i'd say tha's mighty fittin' wit dem legs ye got. ye'll pro'lly grow tall as one." and that didn't seem as though it were too far-fetched. he'd seen much smaller pups grow into behemoths before. she had the stretch, it seemed, and he was pleased that he'd found someone who was willing to put up with his rambling. when the young girl inquired about his name, the brute made a thoughtful face before offering his most charming of smiles. 

names were a matter of pride, of course. he carried his like a badge from the war. making himself into a beast of ego, the cajun offered his own calling, "name's buckshot, but a sweet tang like you can call me buck." it was only then that he had enough self-awareness to realize that there weren't many wolves he could scent nearby. seqoia seemed awful young to be out and about by herself, not that it was any of his business. "d'you live here, cher?"
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Sequoia shrugged when he commented on her name being a tree. She had never asked about where it had come from, and nobody had offered up an explanation voluntarily. The girl didn't know what "Buckshot" meant, so she didn't even try to offer up an explanation for that one. She did know what "Buck" meant though, because the adults would occasionally talk about taking one down, and she had seen several out and about. They were the big deer with sticks on their heads that were good for chewing on.

"I live with Drageda," she replied proudly, glancing back toward the cliffs where the pack had made its home for quite some time now. She'd been told that it started in a place called "Sleeping Dragon," but she couldn't remember where that was, exactly. Sequoia had never been very far out of her home, but the thought of exploring one day was enticing.

"Where do you live?" she asked, it being the most logical and easiest question to follow-up with.
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coonass
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the cajun brute drew his skull backward with widened eyes and nodded solemnly. his expression might have suggested that he'd heard of the pack drageda, when he actually felt as though the young girl was speaking an entirely different language to him. that was alright, though; buck often felt as though people were speaking in tongues when they addressed him. he was one of the simple folk and that was a life he would always be content with. there wasn't much more that he aspired to be. 

"mmm, ah see, ah see," he mused in a rumbling baritone. when she asked him where he called home, the dappled bear cracked a wide grin and chuckled. that was such a difficult question for him to answer. in his heart, he knew that the bayou was his home and it always would be. as of late, his home had been wherever his feet had taken him. that didn't sound nearly as romantic as the sound of drageda, which forced an air of intimidation with it. "well, cher... i dunno how much you been told 'bout bein' a driftah, bud i getta call anywhere home," he composed with a proud expression. surely, he had to be impressing the girl. 
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Sequoia, young as she was, assumed everybody knew about Drageda. It was the only thing she had ever known, so when he started laughing, she pouted, wondering just what was so funny about her question. He said he was a "driftah," but that didn't make much sense to her either. She did know what driftwood was, though. It was trees that had fallen into the water and then eventually came back to the shore.

"Where do you sleep? Where's your family?" she asked, unaware that many adults (including her parents) went through phases where they weren't part of any pack. Poor, poor sheltered girl.
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coonass
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boy, she sure was a sweet child. buck was fond of receiving attention from anyone he could manage, so her questions did little to smother his mood. he assumed that most children had been taught about lone wolves and where they came from, including the types of lives they lead. sequoia didn't seem to grasp the concept, as she began to inquire about where his family was and where he slept. buckshot wanted to provide her with the best possible response, as he was still attempting to romanticize the wandering lifestyle himself. 

"ah sleep undah da stars; wherever i feel," he offered her with a glance toward the high skies. they were a muddled grey then, but he was confident that he'd be able to view a vast array of glittering lights once the lights fell beyond the jagged mountains. "an mah family is back home, a'course. on da bayou," he then granted her with a twinkling smile that caused the edges of his eyes to scrunch up. "you evah been to da swamp?"
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As far as Sequoia was concerned, all adults slept under the stars. Sometimes they also slept in a den if their children were young or they were trying to weather a storm, but it seemed like sleeping under the stars was pretty normal. Maybe she hadn't asked her question specifically enough, and she was the one to blame for the unsatisfactory answer. Before she had a chance to clarify, he did so for her.

"Bayou" seemed to be the name of his home, and she took it as much. It didn't sound nearly as good as Drageda, but she wasn't about to insult it. She was still a child, but manners were something she most certainly had.

He asked if she had ever been to the swamp, and she shook her head.

"Where's that?" she asked, cocking her head to one side.
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coonass
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if the cajun could have read her thoughts, he wouldn't have corrected her. she wasn't far from the truth, is why. though he had been born and raised in the rougarou of the swamp, buckshot considered every inch of the bayou to be his home. it wouldn't matter which part he found himself in; he knew that he belonged to the mucky waters and the sound of frogs humming in the late evening. even if he wasn't there in the rougarou, he knew that the swamp was his home. 

the young girl asked where the bayou was, and it caused buck to scrunch his face up in a display of his thoughtfulness. "well, ah would say i's fah from hea," he told her with a confident nod. the cajun didn't think that he could have pointed her in the right direction, based on where they stood. he didn't even know if he could have found his way back on his own. "you evah chase frogs?" the burly cur then asked her. 
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"Far from here" wasn't really an explanation, but it would have to do. It wasn't like Sequoia knew much outside of Drageda, so she would not have even been able to figure out where it was if he'd explained it in detail. Her knowledge of anything aside from her home was minimal. Alas, he was quick to change the subject, and it was one that made her ears perk up in interest.

"Yeah! They're bouncy!"

Sequoia was no hunting prodigy, but she was adequate enough for her age, and chasing small animals was something both she and her siblings did to practice their skills.
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coonass
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shoo she was cute! the great brute couldn't help but to crack his features in a great wide grin. from within the back of his throat there echoed a burly chuckle – warm and encouraging – and he pulled his head back with joy. “das right,” he agreed with her openly. “an' how good ah you at catchin' em?” buckshot then followed with a daring glint in the ghostly silver of his gaze.

perhaps, someone with more self awareness would have realized that spending some quality alone time with some stranger's child was probably not the best way to spend one's free time. the cajun brute was built for fighting, but he wasn't too well versed in the common sense department. whoever was in charge had seen fit to grant him with life's greatest conundrum.

in other words, buckshot wasn't the sharpest egg in the attic.
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"Pretty good I guess." She paused for a moment then looked around, half-expecting a frog to hop up out of nowhere so she could show off her skills.

"Do you think there are any around here? I could show you how I catch 'em!"

Immediately, she began to trot off with her nose to the ground and her eyes peeled, looking for any signs of the slimy creatures.
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coonass
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the girl seemed eager to show him her skills. buckshot thought that it was around the time that he'd learned how to frog gig, and boy had he loved it. it wasn't long after that he'd considered himself to be a master hunter of the springy creatures. so, he didn't see anything wrong with trailing after the spotted girl and sniffing out any signs of amphibian life.

buck followed behind her with his nose searching for signs of prey that she could hunt. his eyes trailed the coast and he wondered if it was likely to even find the slimy creatures around those parts. “say, maybe dere's no frogs hea'? but, dere's plenty in da swamp. we could find one, yeah?” he mused aloud to her, still sniffing along the beach.
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But I’ve seen ‘em! she protested. After all, she had yet to go far from Drageda, and she had never been to a swamp, and she had still somehow seen frogs. They were definitely more common away from the shore. They tended to live around trees and rocks and creeks.

I can show you at Drageda! she suggested, tail wagging enthusiastically. Of course, that would require him to be part of Drageda, and this deflated her mood almost immediately. Oh, but they won’t let you hang out there. You gotta live there if you wanna do that.
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coonass
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the girl claimed to have seen them. to this, buckshot stopped in his mindless sniffing and lifted his crown upward to search for where she had meandered. he caught sight of her spotted frame and found himself canting his head to the side out of confusion. boy, he wasn't sure about all those words she was offering because he didn't know much about a drageda or what kind of folks they were if they didn't let people come huntin' frogs.

“well, cher, do ya tink dey would let me in wit you?” he inquired, unsure if she had any real sway with those in charge of who came and went through the drageda claim. “'cause if not, you an' me can go frog giggin' down dat way,” and he gestured with his muzzle toward the other end of the coast where there seemed to be trees that littered the edge of the sea near to the water.
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Honestly, she wasn't sure if they would let him in. She didn't get a say in that—Daddy Dio did. She shrugged. You could try! she suggested. The only two wolves she'd seen come looking to become part of Drageda had been turned away, but they were also injured. You're not injured, are you? Daddy turned away some injured ones. She wasn't sure what had happened to the two females that had showed up that day, and she probably never would.

The ocean was to her right now, with the trees he had pointed to behind her. She looked at him again, thinking that he was considerably more likable than her litter mates. In fact, just about every adult was more likable than her litter mates. Dacio and Opalia were... not dumb, but not particularly smart like she was, either. It always felt like they were lagging behind, and Sequoia was always racing ahead to be an adult.
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coonass
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the girl inquired as to whether he was injured or not, saying that her father had turned away some who had not lived up to his expectations. already, buckshot believed that there would be a high chance that his lackadaisical nature would be a turn-off to the natives. still, he was far more interested in the potential of the young lady who had kept him company for a short while. it was worth it to him to pursue it. shit, he had nowhere better to be, and he preferred to keep it that way.

"naw. i'm 'bout as fit as a fiddle."

with a thoughtful nod, buck motioned for the young lady to lead the way. “well, den... le's have you show me how i's done, yeah?” the swamp scoundrel suggested. he couldn't lead them back to her home, so the brute waited, features turned upward into an idiotic grin. he had always been more of a follower than a leader, anyway.
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Sequoia was downright thrilled when he said he was not only fit, but that he would also follow her home. There was something exciting about the whole thing, and she had a good feeling Daddy Dio and Momma Portia would be very proud of her for roping in a recruit. She damn near vibrated with excitement at the thought of showing up with Buckshot in tow. It felt decidedly grown-up and mature of her, and she was pretty certain neither of her litter mates would ever be able to pull off such a feat.

This way! she beamed, skipping off toward Drageda. She could always use another friend around, especially since Bat and Dalia had left.
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coonass
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her joy was contagious, in a sense. she was eager to lead him down the coast, and he was more than happy to follow after her. the large brute swayed as he cantered along. the further they trekked, the more at ease he became.

it didn't take long before the cajun had started to hum. his gruff baritone sounded as sweet as honey against the backdrop of the ocean. after a short while, buckshot moved from humming to singing. with a wide smile that crinkled the edges of his eyes, the swamp hound parted his lips and began to serenade the young lady with a song he'd learned when he was no more than a pup.

“oh mon âme, oh mon âme,” he crooned. “je vas chanter pour réveiller mon âme.”
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I think we can fade here and have another in Drageda! Happy to backdate it or whatever ya need. ^__^

He followed behind, and she listened quietly as he began to hum and then sing. The words weren't ones she knew. It was not Trigedasleng or common language, and although she did not know what he was singing, it didn't matter. His voice was silky and smooth and she had a feeling he was singing to her, which made it all the more special.
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