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+--- Thread: Totoka River krebs cycle (/showthread.php?tid=17361)
krebs cycle - Starbuck - August 19, 2016
geddit? like crabs? this is a weak start but whatever @Coelacanth
Not many days ago, this river had brought Starbuck great joy in her new friend Deirdre. It had also revealed to her the mystery of crabs. Now that she was back from her brief journey into the depths of the wild, she wanted to revisit the river delta and its strange fauna. The coywolf nosed through the dense bunches of sea grass until she came upon another crab, its red shell a beacon in the colorless sand. Starbuck dropped low, following from a distance and observing it as it scuttled over the thin layer of water skimming over the sand.
RE: krebs cycle - Coelacanth - August 23, 2016
This post ran away from me! I am sorry. Yes! I get it, haha! ^^
Four weeks.
The deep punctures and tears that had marred the soft, shadowed hollow of Coelacanth’s throat and collarbone had completely healed, leaving pale pink scars that were mostly hidden beneath her abundance of atramentous fur. When her feathery coat was soaked and slick against her skin, however — a frequent occurrence given her love for water — the sullied flesh glinted through the unbroken ink of her fur like tiny wings, too sharp and oblique to be parentheses. She had lost weight she could ill afford; her already delicate musculature was whittled down to a waiflike thinness; but she was alive.
Having regained the balletic ease of her natural stride, she labored over her new den, making several trips to the shimmering salt flat to collect every last one of Amoxtli’s treasures. These she carefully arranged around a small, mossy cave she’d found tucked within a semicircle of waterfalls the night Kierkegaard had stumbled upon her broken and vulnerable form. Despite the water that surrounded her, ventilation swept generously through the cozy space — and its two entrances, one half-obscured by a thin curtain of cascading snowmelt, the other concealed in a bracken of pussy willow and cotton grass, ensured that she would stay warm and safe no matter the weather. It was an ideal location — far away from territorial pack wolves, but close enough to Atoll and Kierkegaard that Coelacanth felt marginally less lonely.
It was loneliness that drew her out of hiding today — loneliness, and the first tentative pangs of hunger she had felt in weeks. Amoxtli’s disappearance on the heels of Marbas’ fury had all but eradicated her desire to eat, to the point that she couldn’t automatically place what the demanding clench of her empty stomach translated to. Clearing the weighty miasma of melancholy from her thoughts with a physical shake of her finely-drawn skull, she untangled her long, slender limbs and set out toward the sea.
Eventually the dainty, willowy silhouette of a stranger caught her eyes. Hesitating, her sumi-e brush tail trailing in the water and drawing shyly to curl around one elegant hock, Seelie came to a slow halt. The creature before her had a sharply tapered muzzle and smallness of build that could almost be mistaken for the siren of Tara, but her symmetrical, erect ears were a telltale giveaway to the contrary. The inky ingénue ventured forward one tenuous step, her graceful neck craning as she tilted her head in evident, bright-eyed curiosity to watch the scuttling of the crab and its ardent observer.
The deep punctures and tears that had marred the soft, shadowed hollow of Coelacanth’s throat and collarbone had completely healed, leaving pale pink scars that were mostly hidden beneath her abundance of atramentous fur. When her feathery coat was soaked and slick against her skin, however — a frequent occurrence given her love for water — the sullied flesh glinted through the unbroken ink of her fur like tiny wings, too sharp and oblique to be parentheses. She had lost weight she could ill afford; her already delicate musculature was whittled down to a waiflike thinness; but she was alive.
Having regained the balletic ease of her natural stride, she labored over her new den, making several trips to the shimmering salt flat to collect every last one of Amoxtli’s treasures. These she carefully arranged around a small, mossy cave she’d found tucked within a semicircle of waterfalls the night Kierkegaard had stumbled upon her broken and vulnerable form. Despite the water that surrounded her, ventilation swept generously through the cozy space — and its two entrances, one half-obscured by a thin curtain of cascading snowmelt, the other concealed in a bracken of pussy willow and cotton grass, ensured that she would stay warm and safe no matter the weather. It was an ideal location — far away from territorial pack wolves, but close enough to Atoll and Kierkegaard that Coelacanth felt marginally less lonely.
It was loneliness that drew her out of hiding today — loneliness, and the first tentative pangs of hunger she had felt in weeks. Amoxtli’s disappearance on the heels of Marbas’ fury had all but eradicated her desire to eat, to the point that she couldn’t automatically place what the demanding clench of her empty stomach translated to. Clearing the weighty miasma of melancholy from her thoughts with a physical shake of her finely-drawn skull, she untangled her long, slender limbs and set out toward the sea.
Eventually the dainty, willowy silhouette of a stranger caught her eyes. Hesitating, her sumi-e brush tail trailing in the water and drawing shyly to curl around one elegant hock, Seelie came to a slow halt. The creature before her had a sharply tapered muzzle and smallness of build that could almost be mistaken for the siren of Tara, but her symmetrical, erect ears were a telltale giveaway to the contrary. The inky ingénue ventured forward one tenuous step, her graceful neck craning as she tilted her head in evident, bright-eyed curiosity to watch the scuttling of the crab and its ardent observer.
RE: krebs cycle - Starbuck - August 23, 2016
B)
So focused was she on her quarry that Starbuck did not notice the wolfdog until the crab was gone. Nose down, she followed it all the way from the bunchgrass to the foaming tide, where the water overcame and whisked the crab away. Starbuck did not follow it, for the water was cold and uninviting even in the summer and its salt felt uncomfortable on her skin. Instead she turned to seek more oddities, and in turning she found that she had been watched.The wolf- wolfdog! she noted with delight- had fur like feathers, the inky black of a raven. She was a delicate but sturdy looking creature, odd but wonderful to behold. Starbuck could hardly contain her excitement, already feeling a kinship with this stranger for their nonstandard parentage. Eager but careful, for fear of giving the wrong impression, Starbuck trotted nearer.
Hello!she said, tail whipping in barely-contained glee.
And excuse me, but I must ask. Are you part dog? You are so very beautiful, but you do not look like most wolves I met.
RE: krebs cycle - Coelacanth - August 23, 2016
The lithe, supple creature turned, and her bright blue eyes were startlingly keen as they looked upon Coelacanth; one hind paw shifted backward as the skittish sheepdog cross involuntarily made to flee. Her wounded heart took up a thready galloping — but the stranger’s expression was one of delight rather than offense, and Coelacanth swayed briefly before remaining where she stood. At this closer vantage point, she could see that the smoke-gray of the girl’s fur was shot through with tendrils of coal, white, and cinnamon — and her fur bore an interesting mixture of greenery and flowers. She was quite similar to Atoll, but her manner was different; her way of speaking was plain and earnest, and she did not sing of Tara or Riverbone. Still, she seemed pleasant — and Seelie was so lonely. Tipping her head to the side in frank curiosity, her cerulean eyes glimmering with the first frail signs of a smile, Coelacanth unwound her ink-feathered tail from its nervous coil around her hock.
“Hello!” piped the stranger, her tail whipping wildly behind her. Her joy was infectious; the inky ingénue found her own tail swaying into a slow wave that quickened in pace the more the other spoke. Without being able to verbally respond, Seelie dipped her muzzle low and offered a soft, airy whuff of answering greeting — and then her streamlined muzzle formed an “o” of surprise. “Are you part dog? You are so very beautiful, but you do not look like most wolves I met.” It was the first time her parentage had been correctly guessed at in these wild lands, and it swelled the Corten girl’s heart with a gratefulness she could put no name to. Vigorously she nodded, venturing a pace or two closer, her expression touched with an answering query. Her tufted ears fanned back against her skull, then sprang forward to cup attentively as she offered a toneless whine of inquiry. Suiting action to the words she could not speak, she tilted her head first to one side, then the other. And what are you?
“Hello!” piped the stranger, her tail whipping wildly behind her. Her joy was infectious; the inky ingénue found her own tail swaying into a slow wave that quickened in pace the more the other spoke. Without being able to verbally respond, Seelie dipped her muzzle low and offered a soft, airy whuff of answering greeting — and then her streamlined muzzle formed an “o” of surprise. “Are you part dog? You are so very beautiful, but you do not look like most wolves I met.” It was the first time her parentage had been correctly guessed at in these wild lands, and it swelled the Corten girl’s heart with a gratefulness she could put no name to. Vigorously she nodded, venturing a pace or two closer, her expression touched with an answering query. Her tufted ears fanned back against her skull, then sprang forward to cup attentively as she offered a toneless whine of inquiry. Suiting action to the words she could not speak, she tilted her head first to one side, then the other. And what are you?
RE: krebs cycle - Starbuck - August 24, 2016
For a moment Starbuck feared that the strange creature would flee, for she seemed skittish and her posture was tense. But then, to Starbucks great delight, the wolfdog seemed to find ease. Her tail unwound, she seemed to smile, and her head canted to the sign in clear curiosity. That was good! Starbuck drew up alongside her, moving to sniff the stranger to learn what she could from her. The woman smelled of the sea, which came as no surprise, but she did not seem to belong to a pack.
The woman uttered no words, but her body language conveyed that which words could not. The wolfdog was amicable and curious, a perfect reflection of Starbuck's own mood. She was fascinated with woman, from her inkjet fur to her persisting silence. It was only when she vocalized, the sound strained, that Starbuck realized the truth.
You cannot speak, can you? Oh, but how will I know what to call you?She paused, then quickly began to speak again for fear of putting off the other.
I do not mind. I am Starbuck. I am like you. My father was a wolf, but my mother was a coyote.
RE: krebs cycle - Coelacanth - August 30, 2016
I am so sorry for taking so long, Kae!
A soft sigh slipped from Coelacanth’s lips as the stranger’s dainty form drew up alongside her. Pleased by her nearness, the inky ingénue tilted her finely-sculpted head in a catlike gesture of affection, seeking to rub the bulb of one tufted ear against the coywolf’s graceful, smoke-gray shoulder as she passed. Perhaps Coelacanth ought to have exercised greater caution in her interactions with strangers — it was a lesson she certainly should have learned following her altercation with Marbas — but she was so hungry for affection and companionship, she couldn’t still the impulse. She had, quite literally, never been this alone in her life. Even the dreary days in the animal hospital had been peppered through with friends, though the fear and terror she experienced there had swept away any good memories she might have made.
The coywolf’s first question was a realization more than anything else, but Coelacanth was swift to confirm her suspicion with a firm shake of her head, her seablue eyes serene. A slow whisk of her ink-feathered tail sought to reassure Starbuck that she found the query inoffensive, and it picked up pace, tickling like a metronome when the girl — Starbuck, Seelie traced the syllables with a tongue that would never speak them — staunchly stated that she did not mind. Coelacanth could offer no reply to Starbuck’s second question save a flurry of motion that had made little sense to Marbas: a prolonged tilt of head; a shift of shoulders that had been whittled down to sharp, angular peaks; a patently nonchalant glance toward the other’s paws. Eventually a name for the atramentous girl would spring to Starbuck’s tongue, and Seelie would learn to answer to it. Until then, she would remain content.
The tuft-eared Groenendael cross listened with bright-eyed interest as Starbuck spoke of her own parentage, and nodded vigorously with a laughing “bark” that was a mere rush of sound and a clip of jaws. Her father, too, was a wolf. Their lives, it seemed, drew an interesting parallel — and tiny Seelie was delighted by it. Questions such as, “Where do you live? What would you like to do? What was your family like?” were impossible for the girl, who was at the mercy of each new acquaintance when it came to how much — or how little — she learned. Today she stepped forward, her hunger urging her to take the reins in this particular social situation, and offered a toneless whine of invitation, attempting to hold Starbuck’s gaze while pointing her muzzle in the direction she wished to explore. There were some blueberry bushes nearby, and Seelie had a sweet tooth.
The coywolf’s first question was a realization more than anything else, but Coelacanth was swift to confirm her suspicion with a firm shake of her head, her seablue eyes serene. A slow whisk of her ink-feathered tail sought to reassure Starbuck that she found the query inoffensive, and it picked up pace, tickling like a metronome when the girl — Starbuck, Seelie traced the syllables with a tongue that would never speak them — staunchly stated that she did not mind. Coelacanth could offer no reply to Starbuck’s second question save a flurry of motion that had made little sense to Marbas: a prolonged tilt of head; a shift of shoulders that had been whittled down to sharp, angular peaks; a patently nonchalant glance toward the other’s paws. Eventually a name for the atramentous girl would spring to Starbuck’s tongue, and Seelie would learn to answer to it. Until then, she would remain content.
The tuft-eared Groenendael cross listened with bright-eyed interest as Starbuck spoke of her own parentage, and nodded vigorously with a laughing “bark” that was a mere rush of sound and a clip of jaws. Her father, too, was a wolf. Their lives, it seemed, drew an interesting parallel — and tiny Seelie was delighted by it. Questions such as, “Where do you live? What would you like to do? What was your family like?” were impossible for the girl, who was at the mercy of each new acquaintance when it came to how much — or how little — she learned. Today she stepped forward, her hunger urging her to take the reins in this particular social situation, and offered a toneless whine of invitation, attempting to hold Starbuck’s gaze while pointing her muzzle in the direction she wished to explore. There were some blueberry bushes nearby, and Seelie had a sweet tooth.
RE: krebs cycle - Starbuck - August 30, 2016
dude don't worry!
The sudden display of affection was not offputting to Starbuck, who always loved the attention. She leaned into Seelie as she brushed against her, and then looped to push her nose into the silky fur of Coelacanth's neck. The wolfdog was so unlike any other wolf Starbuck knew, and so she was quite keen on fostering a friendship with her.
I would love to know your true name, but I never will, will I?she sighed, her heart aching in sympathy. To have a true name, a gift from mother to daughter, and yet never to share it! But the wolfdog seemed to be well adjusted, if her body language was something to go by. Maybe she was done with her mourning, and only sought to live.
If it is amenable to you, I could call you Lucienne?she offered. It was a pretty name, and she thought it fit the exotic wolfdog.
When Coelacanth gestured off, Starbuck smiled.
What is that way?she asked.
Will you show me?She was trying to be careful with how she spoke, making an attempt to avoid being patronizing. When Seelie began to move, Starbuck would follow, burning with curiosity about this strange, lovely creature.
RE: krebs cycle - Coelacanth - September 13, 2016
A soft and airy whine of bittersweet longing spilled from Coelacanth’s lips as Starbuck wooed and won her with tender words and a beautiful name: Lucienne. The little Groenendael’s finely-tapered muzzle parted, coral-pink tongue peeking out from between her bottom canines in a blithe smile as she nodded acquiescence. Lucienne — Lucienne — Lucienne — she allowed the new name to tumble through her mind, closing her mouth possessively around it to trace her tongue over the syllables she would never utter aloud. It was a name more beautiful than she was, and she was thankful for the sentiment as much as the collection of consonants and vowels; as she moved toward the treeline with an almost anxious gesture to be sure that Starbuck had not left her, Seelie adjusted her pace to walk more closely beside the coywolf. There was ample room for Starbuck to move away if she wished, but if she deigned to allow the sheepdog cross’ nearness, inky fur would brush against the expanse of smoke, cinnamon, coal, and cream.
The distance to the berry bushes was not far, and Coelacanth gestured toward them with a graceful turn of her delicate head and a low, thrumming purr. She enjoyed such fare, but was unsure as to how it would be received by her new friend — reaching forward, she plucked one of the succulent berries with a deft twist of tongue and clip of incisors, then merrily crushed it between her molars. The burst of sweet juice set her tail to wagging as she glanced toward her sky-eyed companion with an inviting, blueberry-scented whuff. She enjoyed that the girl talked to her; not being able to talk herself, she found it comforting when others filled the silence that was all she knew now. With Amoxtli, Coelacanth had enjoyed an uncanny sort of telepathy; they had conjured up their own language through gestures and the sounds that they could make, but much of what they shared was an eerie melding of thoughts and feelings that no other wolf was privy to. Seelie had seen the same thing in Crosscurrent and Undertow, Serein and Sirimiri. Now everything was just radio silence — and the lonely girl found it deafening.
The distance to the berry bushes was not far, and Coelacanth gestured toward them with a graceful turn of her delicate head and a low, thrumming purr. She enjoyed such fare, but was unsure as to how it would be received by her new friend — reaching forward, she plucked one of the succulent berries with a deft twist of tongue and clip of incisors, then merrily crushed it between her molars. The burst of sweet juice set her tail to wagging as she glanced toward her sky-eyed companion with an inviting, blueberry-scented whuff. She enjoyed that the girl talked to her; not being able to talk herself, she found it comforting when others filled the silence that was all she knew now. With Amoxtli, Coelacanth had enjoyed an uncanny sort of telepathy; they had conjured up their own language through gestures and the sounds that they could make, but much of what they shared was an eerie melding of thoughts and feelings that no other wolf was privy to. Seelie had seen the same thing in Crosscurrent and Undertow, Serein and Sirimiri. Now everything was just radio silence — and the lonely girl found it deafening.
RE: krebs cycle - Starbuck - September 15, 2016
The silk-spun wolf's smile indicated pleasure, and so, too did Starbuck's lips part in a smile.
You like it then, Lucienne?she asked, voice bright and eyes alight with amusement. She was pleased that her chosen name was so well received.
They set off towards the trees, Starbuck a few paces behind Lucienne, until her companion slowed to walk shoulder to shoulder. There was hardly a gap between them, their fur brushing together. Starbuck relished the closeness, for she was a very tactile creature and always longed for touch. It was not long until they arrived at their destination, a blade-leafed bush laden with dark blue berries. Lucienne wasted no time in plucking one ripe berry from its bush, and trusting Starbuck did the same, grasping a berry with her teeth and pulling until it snapped from its housing. Then she bit delicately, and gasped at the burst of flavor that washed over her tongue.
Oh, Lucienne! These are wonderful,she exclaimed, quickly reaching out to take another, and another.
Is it bad to eat too many? Perhaps I got carried away. But oh, they are so delicious!Her tail whipped behind her, occassionally smacking into her friend in its frenzied excitement.
RE: krebs cycle - Coelacanth - November 18, 2016
Short phone post. ♥
A soft and fragile humming burbled tunelessly within the little Groenendael’s shuttered throat, bespeaking her contentment with her new name and her affection for her lapis-eyed companion. Already the inky ingénue had furnished a place within her wounded heart for Starbuck alone, charmed and enchanted as she was by her agemate’s tactile nature and gentle ebullience. Her tapered muzzle reached forward again and again, inkdark crown bobbing as she nodded vehement agreement — the berries were delicious. The whup-whup-whupping of the Donnelaith girl’s tail was oddly comforting; without a flock to tend to or a pack to run with — and most especially, without her twin at her side — the heartsore sheepdog cross had little to buoy her burgeoning weariness. There rested upon her thin shoulders a weight that she had never known before, and it grew heavier with each added hurt. Suddenly overwhelmed by her loneliness, Coelacanth turned her finely-sculpted head toward the similarly-sized female and, if Starbuck allowed it, aimed to bury her nose against one cinnamon-spiced shoulder.
RE: krebs cycle - Starbuck - December 02, 2016
Starbuck would have been happy to gorge herself on berries, but was interrupted when silk fur and a slim skull pressed against her; an action so desperate and so full of longing that Starbuck's heart felt fit to burst. A sudden rush of pity and affection drove a single thought to the forefront; a singular desire to care for this creature, so beautiful and so sweet. If she could, she would try to bring Lucienne back to the sentinels with her, back to a home that would love and care for her. In time she would suggest this, but at the moment all she did was croon,
sweet Lucienne, my heart aches that you should be alone.
RE: krebs cycle - Coelacanth - January 01, 2017
A soft, hiccupping whine clawed its way free of the little Groenendael’s useless throat, scrabbling for purchase on a tripping tongue that had lost its desire for sweet berries. Nosing through the enchanting tangle of fur at Starbuck’s nape, the newly named Lucienne preened and nibbled with a desire to please that bordered on feverishness. Seelie’s was not a wild heart — not at its core — and despite her fear of cages, she longed to be tamed and kept safe. For a long, blissful moment, she lingered with her pert chin resting delicately betwixt Starbuck’s shoulder blades, keen incisors and tender tongue rhythmically grooming. For long moments they remained together, and when the day came to a close, Coelacanth went alone to her den.