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Emberwood my smile's an open wound. - Printable Version

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my smile's an open wound. - Whittier - April 16, 2016

The passing days had been uneventful for Whittier. His paws had taken him to the West for about half a day before he realized that he had just come from that exact direction, and so he had spun North to trek alongside of the mountains. He had come close to the territories of wolf packs, but had kept his distance simply out of reluctance to deal with the whole dominance, defensiveness or even the recruitment games. He knew that others of his kind were always his best bet for finding what he sought, but he was tired, he was hungry, and he was frustrated, and those emotions had always had a very poor affect on his logic.

The woods he stood in now were an interesting sight, but unlike what the territory description in the guidebook suggests, Whittier was not immediately put at ease. He wound his way through the tall white stalks almost aimlessly. It had been a few days since his last meal and even that had been a measly one - some half-eaten duck that tasted more like coyote spit than anything. Blech. It was his hunger that made him pause when he came to upon the small lake within a large clearing in the forest. His gaze swept slowly across the flat plate of water. It was perfectly still except for the chatter and rustling of a few ducks on the far side. His attention was more on the cacophonous sound of what seemed to be a thousand billion frogs chirping rambunctiously at each other from their hidden spots along the beds.

Whittier licked his lips eagerly and set off towards the sound.


RE: my smile's an open wound. - Zephyr Maverick - April 23, 2016

Zephyr was on another one of his adventures from Seadog, wandering aimlessly through the Teekons to find a place he could one day settle a new pack. He'd started from Seadog and had made a near-complete circuit around the Sunspire and back. Maybe he even make new friends, new comrades to one day possibly join his ranks? If not then friends were just as important. The massive crow black male wandered on, wondering what adventure he would find next. The scent of another male brought his ears to a perk and caused his tail to wag. Would this wolf be a friend, a packmate, or even an enemy? Only one way to know. He trotted forward with his trademark bouncy gait, smiling all the way as he daydreamed of his next pack.


RE: my smile's an open wound. - Whittier - April 26, 2016

Whit was not so consumed with the prospect of a meal that he did not hear the approach of another, which was pretty odd for him. Lacking the desire for introspection however, the young wolf turned to look for the source of the noise. He spotted the inky black stranger soon enough striding towards him and set his posture to regard him with neutrality while his tail gave a friendly wag. It never hurt to have back up when embarking upon a hunt, and Whittier was not about to drive help away when it came so willingly towards him.

"Hey," he said quietly, not wanting to disturb his quarry. Not that the horny little amphibians would have noticed at all considering the veritable Woodstock they were having in the lake just a few yards from where the pair of wolves stood. "I'm Whit."


RE: my smile's an open wound. - Zephyr Maverick - April 27, 2016

Yes! Another friendly, like himself. Not all greetings went like this, and Zephyr couldn't help but feel excited. His tail started to wag again as he approached, but the gentlemanly male made sure they both had their own space. Flashing him a happy grin, the massive ebony male sat and spoke, being sure to match the loudness of Whits voice with his own ecstatic tone.
       "I'm Zephyr. You in need of some help or even up for some company? I've been on the move looking for a good patch of land for a while and a friendly face is a rarity outside Seadog."


RE: my smile's an open wound. - Whittier - April 27, 2016

This dude was a happy one as well, and momentarily Whit wondered if that was simply a common trait among the random wolves one encountered in the Teekon Wilds. He'd never actually met anyone outside of his pack when he was growing up here. He hadn't really been here long enough to do such a thing. But before the young Frostfur could go into too much introspection over this fact, a sly grin was wrapping around his muzzle as excitement for the stranger's words took him.

"Definitely," Whittier replied in an eager whisper, only hearing the part where the black wolf mentioned helping him - presumably in the hunt, "Sounds like a freakin' buffet over there. You ever hunt frogs before?" Whittier had no patience for fishing. He was too slow for hunting rabbits and too loud for deer or any other small game, really. Frogs? Piece of cake. Delicious, delicious cake.


RE: my smile's an open wound. - Zephyr Maverick - April 28, 2016

Zephyr was glad when the male seemed to react how he would've, also accepting his help. He asked of frogs, and Zephyr listened closer to the background. The frogs sand in the background and Zephyr was reminded of the deep pine forests back in his old territory. It'd never been something he was good at or even did often, but he did know HOW.... Well, he was fast enough to snatch them out of the air as he chased them. 
        "I dont know if theres a proper way of doing so but I can chase and grab."
The massive male laughed, trotting forward and urging the hunt.


RE: my smile's an open wound. - Whittier - May 02, 2016

His new companion didn't seem to have much experience hunting this particular prey, or so Whittier assumed from his response. He wasn't at all concerned by this though, for all he really needed was the stranger's enthusiasm, which the yearling sought to match with his own.

Whit started forward with a grin towards the lake at an easy lope. Frogs weren't exactly the brightest creatures. More often than not, they just sat there and waited to be scooped up. At least, that's what the ones were doing that Whittier usually snacked on. The others were too much work.

The yearling slowed as he came nearer to the lake, sniffing at the air and peering as best as he could into the reeds. His ears twitched from the sounds the amphibians were making, trying to pinpoint exactly where he might find his first victim. There were so many voices that his ears seemed to not be much help in this scenario, and so he gave a shrug and barreled eagerly into the reeds.


RE: my smile's an open wound. - Zephyr Maverick - May 03, 2016

Zephyr followed behind Whit, observing the pale wolf and wondering what his other skills were. The ebony male was about to ask, but Whit was slowing and Zephyr fell into a stalk. A three foot, hundred and fifty pound wolf was probably something to cause a disturbance, and that wouldn't help them catch these little snacks. Whit finally just barrelled on in, and now Zephyr couldn't stop the same enthusiasm to take hold. His massive snowy paws thundered against the earth as he chased down a particularly plump one.


RE: my smile's an open wound. - Whittier - May 07, 2016

His initial thrust into the reeds accomplished him little. Whittier swung his head back and forth, nose working frantically to tell him all it could of what he had to work with. Despite the cacophony that sounded still in the background, the boy did not immediately find any of the little trumpeters. But he was not so easily deterred. Not right now anyway.

Whittier paced along the shoreline, his muzzle glued to the ground. He wandered a few yards before he finally froze in place as his eyes landed upon his prey. The frog lay as though immobile upon the edge of the lake, concealed against the murk of his muddy backdrop. Whit crouched low, but soon enough realized he was hunting frogs and thus subtlety was fairly inconsequential. He crouched low with his bum wriggling above him, hefty belly brushing the ground below him. It was mostly done for fun at this point, and also to give him reason to think he might in some way be earning this meal. Which he was not.

But in either case, Whit pounced forward and snapped his jaws around the frog as it shuffled slightly to the side in a poor attempt at escape. As easy as it had been, the yearling still felt triumphant as he crushed its bones between his teeth and snuffed out its life.


RE: my smile's an open wound. - Zephyr Maverick - May 08, 2016

Zephyr had better, or maybe worse, luck than his newfound companion. He'd found a nice, plump frog just waiting to be plucked as soon as he broke through reeds, trampling after it right away. No point in trying to hide from something that already spotted him, might as well have fun with it! It took him a few tries, but evenutally the massive ebony male pounced dead on the things back, and Zephyr snapped it up in victory. He swung his big head around to show it off to the dusty looking male, but he was doing some stalking of his own. Perhaps stalking would've made this easier?.... Nah. It didn't matter about effectiveness right now, just so long as they were having fun. It would take quite a few of these little buggers to fill up as big a wolf as this ebony gentleman. 
            "Good snatch!"
He called between his own slimy prize, tail wagging and grassy eyes gleaming. Todays adventure was definately a fun one, but he couldn't stop thinking of he and Rinda doing just this, back home....


RE: my smile's an open wound. - Whittier - May 17, 2016

Whittier abandoned the muddy shore for dryer land after nabbing the first of what would likely be many lunch-sized portions of amphibians. He was already chomping when he dropped onto his belly to enjoy his meal, so it only took a few minutes before he was sucking the meat from between its ribs. He shot a grin to his companion as he barked a compliment. Zephyr seemed to have grabbed his own prize, which Whit was quick to grow jealous of as he slurped the last of the meat off of his own.

"Not bad yourself!" the yearling called as he stood and headed back towards the water's edge, nose twitched and ears swiveling as he attempted to find another.


RE: my smile's an open wound. - Zephyr Maverick - May 20, 2016

Zephyr didn't bother to sit for his meal, simply crunched it down in a few moments. Whit was already off on his second, and after shaking out his thick pelt, took off parallel with the pale man. It took him a little longer to track down another one, but when he did, this one he decided to stalk. It was a little smaller than the last, but food was food. It detected him too late, and he slapped it dazed with a paw before snapping it up and crushing it beneath his jaws. He didn't particularly care if he was eating bone, just made sure to chew it up well. 
These frogs must have been more stupid than the one's in his old home, because not more than a few yards in the same direction did he find another one singing on a rock. Easy prey, yet again. He made quick work of again stalking through the mud, snowy paws not so snowy anymore, and leaping after it. This one managed to fling itself off the stone and further off, but the long-legged male managed to catch the fat thing in his own jump from the hard surface. This one, he took the time to rip apart and pick the meat from, after taking it back to the stone to dine.


RE: my smile's an open wound. - Whittier - June 04, 2016

wanna wrap up? :)

Whittier leaned his head towards the ground as he came to the shore and breathed in the deep scent of earth and damp. His eyes shifted out across the lake as he went. He watched his companion for a little while until he managed to snag another that was sunning itself upon a rock. Excited, the yearling began to focus again on his own hunt.

He sloshed happily into the water with narrowed eyes and a wagging tail. The mud squished between his toes as he walked. It was an unpleasant feeling, but also somehow simultaneously satisfying. It was also a far noisier path to take, but Whittier wasn't too concerned that his chances at making another catch would be ruined.

He should have been though, as word seemed to be spreading that their breeding grounds had become a danger zone and one by one, the amphibians began to scoot away. It took the youth a few minutes before he finally found another trying to hide itself amongst the reeds, but Whittier managed to dislodge it from its hiding spot. He rose with a wet and muddy face, triumphant with the fat bullfrog flailing between his teeth, heading towards dry ground to take a seat and enjoy his last prize before bidding his new friend farewell and getting back to his search.