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+--- Thread: Shadewood His hair's on fire and his heart is burning (/showthread.php?tid=21710)
His hair's on fire and his heart is burning - Darcia - May 07, 2017
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Since its rise, Grievous has been haunted by a high and cloudless sun.
The black of his cape beckons in long fingers of unpleasant light, and it stems his progress to a slow ooze as he hunts without enthusiasm for relief. He holds himself low and steady, as if to hide beneath the reach of his invisibly arresting pursuer, but the silence that would accompany him usually is broken by his quick and heavy panting; dressed too with a lolling tongue and heaving chest.
Born of the mountains, his lungs are naturally large and well-suited for distance and exertion of all types, but the rest of him is so tuned to the cold that the sun has long-since been a rival to his success.
And having sworn off of cliffs and ledges and brooding heights alike, he has become tasked to find accommodations that will suit his natural strengths and weaknesses as a mountaineer— without subjecting himself to the palisades themselves.
Crossing a river cools him, but the space is still shelterless, and unless he intended to live exclusively submerged for a half a year while the hotter months passed, he'd have to find sanctuary elsewhere... But even as he recognizes this, the distantly unmistakable silhouette of a broad forestland strikes him into quickening his pace.
Grievous graciously shoulders on a cowl of cool shade as he finds himself spilling to the shadows provided by a historically dense wood. The scent of prey overwhelms him, making him forget his previous strife as his first goal has now been met and evolves now into a second objective of filling his stomach.
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The black of his cape beckons in long fingers of unpleasant light, and it stems his progress to a slow ooze as he hunts without enthusiasm for relief. He holds himself low and steady, as if to hide beneath the reach of his invisibly arresting pursuer, but the silence that would accompany him usually is broken by his quick and heavy panting; dressed too with a lolling tongue and heaving chest.
Born of the mountains, his lungs are naturally large and well-suited for distance and exertion of all types, but the rest of him is so tuned to the cold that the sun has long-since been a rival to his success.
And having sworn off of cliffs and ledges and brooding heights alike, he has become tasked to find accommodations that will suit his natural strengths and weaknesses as a mountaineer— without subjecting himself to the palisades themselves.
Crossing a river cools him, but the space is still shelterless, and unless he intended to live exclusively submerged for a half a year while the hotter months passed, he'd have to find sanctuary elsewhere... But even as he recognizes this, the distantly unmistakable silhouette of a broad forestland strikes him into quickening his pace.
Grievous graciously shoulders on a cowl of cool shade as he finds himself spilling to the shadows provided by a historically dense wood. The scent of prey overwhelms him, making him forget his previous strife as his first goal has now been met and evolves now into a second objective of filling his stomach.
RE: His hair's on fire and his heart is burning - Cry - May 10, 2017
Cry kept the summer's bane shaded irises on the calm doe who shredly picked at the refreshing leaves of the nearest shrubs, the fawn she was keeping in tote watching with oblong eyes how to devour the foliage. Just as the fawn took a break from the lesson, it bent at necks height to refresh itself in the lightly passing stream of a calmer river.
Something nagged him from his watch, his claws flexing and deflexing the soft loam under him. What was the irritance? His void colored auds flicked southwest, the left hovering on a single sound that branched off into another fume of sounds. His brow furrowed as he began to analyze the situation.
If he left the spot, he might spook the prey too soon, and the meal would be lost. If he stayed, whatever was getting closer would spook the prey, and the hunt would be lost.
Either way, his chances were being damned.
He couldn't move, as his concealment was prized right before the set of Cervidae, and deer detected unnatural motion with a terrifying prowess. Cry simple had to wait until they were comfortable enough, for the little fawn to be a bit too far from the protective heel of her mother...
And then, she would be his.
RE: His hair's on fire and his heart is burning - Darcia - May 11, 2017
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Because Grievous himself was searching to fill his belly, he became aware of the present situation just moments before he would have ruined it for one party involved. If his spatial awareness had been dimmed, he might have inadvertently saved a doe's life; but as things were— the grazing ungulate was very much still in danger.
At his distance he spied upon wolf and deer; predator and prey. He maintained a low posture, and crept slowly to take up position on the opposing side of the intended victim. Without waiting to see if the other hunter was ready, or had noticed him at all, he sprang for the deer, spooking her into the hopefully waiting jaws of another captor.
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At his distance he spied upon wolf and deer; predator and prey. He maintained a low posture, and crept slowly to take up position on the opposing side of the intended victim. Without waiting to see if the other hunter was ready, or had noticed him at all, he sprang for the deer, spooking her into the hopefully waiting jaws of another captor.
RE: His hair's on fire and his heart is burning - Cry - May 12, 2017
The trap was sprung, and as Cry hadn't expected, the predator that had come to ruin in turn actually benifited the assassin. The company lay on the opposite side of Cry, facing him, so as the deer lurched up to flee one set of maws, she near stumbled on her own to the second pair.
However, she was a seasoned being, and would not go into his thirsty jowls. He didn't want her, anyways, as she had been quick to reverse her aim and dart another way, her baby was left in a mass of chaotic confusion. With the appearance of a second wolf, the fawn couldn't keep well with such a swift turn of her mother's direction, so as she was sent in one direction believing that to be the one they were to head to, her mother's change had left her baby strung well onto Cry's ivory deadbolt of fangs.
A leap sailed him the little distance he needed to be secure in the hitbox of the prey, and Cry snagged the soft tawny coated underside of the fawn's throat, violently ripping back, hinds digging into the maleable soil seeking pruchase. The doe was now left with a choice as she saw her spawn being yanked away from her; to leave and save her own life, or return with fury, and try to save a doomed child who lay pleading in the merciless jaws of death.
RE: His hair's on fire and his heart is burning - Darcia - May 12, 2017
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Several unexpected things happened the moment Grievous launched the assault. The doe veered away unscathed, leaving behind a scrambling deer-child he had not noticed before. The assumed target had not been the aim of the pitch wolf at all, and instead of giving any attention to the larger prey, the stranger sprang instead for the easier beast to fell.
The mother doe hesitated some yards away, stricken by her fawn's helpless bleating, and trying to assess if she could aid her dying kin— but the sight of Grievous, another threat, emerging from the underbrush, sent her bounding to safety without the life of her baby.
The monochromatic titan hung back wordlessly as the other male bled the last vestiges of energy from his prey. He was a larger than the winter-eyed hellion, but didn't seem particularly interested in a fight at any rate, choosing instead to bide his time as he had to.
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The mother doe hesitated some yards away, stricken by her fawn's helpless bleating, and trying to assess if she could aid her dying kin— but the sight of Grievous, another threat, emerging from the underbrush, sent her bounding to safety without the life of her baby.
The monochromatic titan hung back wordlessly as the other male bled the last vestiges of energy from his prey. He was a larger than the winter-eyed hellion, but didn't seem particularly interested in a fight at any rate, choosing instead to bide his time as he had to.
RE: His hair's on fire and his heart is burning - Cry - May 12, 2017
It didn't take long for cry to mangle whatever was once the throat of the fawn, as once he saw the mother turn tail and take to the trees, he set to ending the baby's life wth quick snaps and twists of his own thrusts until the baby just died.
Within the cooling night, the circle of life came to it's new revolution yet again.
The dark guardian did not set into the mass of fresh meat immediately, as his undying blues locked onto the mass of his company.
He didn't attempt to chose the loner, because that would have just been plainly rude. He wasnt a barbarian. Plus, he wasn't as hungry as the tank bodied loner probably was. Cry was simply searching for more fuel to fill caches with. So instead, the artic eyed prince beckoned, an invite of his form beginning with a swish oh his tail and bob of his head, to allow the brute to join him at the dinner table. Escpecially considering that if it had not have been for the sudden appearance, the assassin may havne not been as lucky when it came to escaping the wrath of a now babyless mother.
RE: His hair's on fire and his heart is burning - Darcia - May 12, 2017
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Grievous waits, prepared to be rebuked; ready further to bide his time for a share of the meal. He had no intention of fighting for it, choosing instead to preserve his energy for true necessity, but it seemed that a fight was far from his would-be opponent's mind.
The mercenary is rather surprisingly met with an invitation instead. He is not a man of hesitation, so he stepped forward without a second thought, and closed to distance between them so that he stood at the fawn's back while his dinnermate had claim of the belly. He ignores the catch at first, sniffing over the bloody corpse so that he might get a better whiff of the stark raven that did not fear his company.
Capturing his scent and committing it to memory, he gives a satisfied snort near the guard hairs of the male's shoulder, and moves his muzzle in a swift motion meant to nip him fondly if allowed.
Thankless and virile, his ears fell protectively against his skull while he sunk starved fangs into the tender haunch of the fallen fawn, and began to feast.
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The mercenary is rather surprisingly met with an invitation instead. He is not a man of hesitation, so he stepped forward without a second thought, and closed to distance between them so that he stood at the fawn's back while his dinnermate had claim of the belly. He ignores the catch at first, sniffing over the bloody corpse so that he might get a better whiff of the stark raven that did not fear his company.
Capturing his scent and committing it to memory, he gives a satisfied snort near the guard hairs of the male's shoulder, and moves his muzzle in a swift motion meant to nip him fondly if allowed.
Thankless and virile, his ears fell protectively against his skull while he sunk starved fangs into the tender haunch of the fallen fawn, and began to feast.
RE: His hair's on fire and his heart is burning - Cry - May 12, 2017
The larger lupine actively took the invite, which relieved Cry, as he knew he wouldn't be able to eat the fawn by himself entirely. The brute neared and gave him tribute after taking in the shadow prince's identity, and the guardian lightly touched the flank of the company with a stroke of his tail in acknowledgement.
The assassin made a note to give the massive brute more meat in which to feed, where Cry would mainly just dine on the internal delicacies. Whatever was left, if large enough for her, he would personally carry back to the territory and offer to Gwen. He hadn't known if she had gone hunting as of recently, and through previous event that had occured previously, he was concerned on her emotional state. Whether he was right by it or not, he cared little of. He would look out for her, just as he was meant to.
Within the warm and tender corpse an obsidian muzzle dwelled, ripping and tearing within the meal, hounding the innards with a soon satisfied belly. Cry pulled back, licking his chops and grooming what he could from his face, warm tongue spreading less blood and more clean wherever it tediously was sent to.
Afterward, he sat upon muscled haunches, awaiting his counterpart to finish his portion of the tender meal, awaiting the monocrested pewter and stone wolf.
RE: His hair's on fire and his heart is burning - Darcia - May 16, 2017
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Though he feasted longer, he stopped far short of his fill, unwilling to gorge himself in the presence of foreign company. He stepped back several moments after his host had retreated, passing a quick tongue over sanguine jowls that collected a thick string of muscle that had been dangling unnoticed from the fold of his lip. He licked his chops again just to be sure.
“The generosity shown to me here shall not be forgotten,” he rumbles slowly, always ready to be an ally before an enemy. Though his mere presence (and sometimes his grating habits) often elicited very negative responses from those who would be better off pretending he didn’t creep them out. And by this age, making enemies seemed almost automatic to him; so, in the rare instances when he was shown even the slightest bit of respect, he took it greedily.
The devil could pay it back tenfold.
RE: His hair's on fire and his heart is burning - Cry - May 16, 2017
Wintery glacials turned to the dark warrior, his response smooth. "It was well earned. Well deserved. And well remembered."
Cry began grooming himself, attention being precisioned to keeping the scent of blood from him, so he wouldn't be considered a target for a next meal. Or even annoying buzzards.
The sun threatened his time for pleasantries, a darkened hue to the dress if the heavens, shards of dusk throwing scarlets and crimson mixed oranges high above the two males. Upon finishing the top half of his shoulder, Cry shook his pelt free of settled grit and murmured softly to the coal tinged mass of wolf.
"We'll keep in touch."
And with that, he walked forward and pulled free a left haunch of shoulder from the fallen fawn, then turned to disappear back into the unknown, his intention to leave the loner with the hefty remains with the lupine who needed them more.
RE: His hair's on fire and his heart is burning - Darcia - May 16, 2017
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He watched in silence as the unnamed wolf departed. His tail swished slowly back and forth until darkness, and the curve of the earth, had swallowed the figure whole, and even then he watched the place where the male had disappeared for a while after. Only when he felt satisfied with the assurance that he was alone, did he relax enough to begin grooming himself clean, sliding into a prone position at the side of the half-eaten fawn.
He remained with the kill for another day or so— protecting it from all manner of scavenger— until he had picked the carcass clean himself, and went on with his explorations.
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He remained with the kill for another day or so— protecting it from all manner of scavenger— until he had picked the carcass clean himself, and went on with his explorations.
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