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+--- Thread: Totoka River what the water gave me (/showthread.php?tid=25392)
what the water gave me - Stockholm - February 06, 2018
aw, open to anyone that wants to play with Stock :)
Golden light filters in through the bent pine boughs the Gampr and his inky companion had taken shelter under the night before. Between now and then a fresh blanket of snow had fallen, sparkling and bright white in the early morning sun. Stockholm squints as he lifts his head, his breath a thick cloud of visible condensation as he gazes out the opening of their temporary den. For a moment, the Armenian is tempted to tuck his nose back into his fur and go back to sleep for just a bit longer, but the hungry rumble of his empty stomach convinces him otherwise.
Slowly he untangles himself from Coelacanth, careful not to wake her just yet, before slipping out from the warm hollow they had occupied. The fresh snowfall was actually a good sign – it would make tracking prey easier.
He hikes his leg on a tree and paints the snow at its base yellow before continuing on towards the river. They had camped out here because it was one of the locations where the water was still open, there being enough movement to keep it from freezing over completely. Theoretically, the fishing should have been good here, but it wasn’t.
He pauses at the edge of the river, watching the water cascade over ice-slicked rocks a moment before dipping his head down to drink, pondering which direction they should head off in today.
Slowly he untangles himself from Coelacanth, careful not to wake her just yet, before slipping out from the warm hollow they had occupied. The fresh snowfall was actually a good sign – it would make tracking prey easier.
He hikes his leg on a tree and paints the snow at its base yellow before continuing on towards the river. They had camped out here because it was one of the locations where the water was still open, there being enough movement to keep it from freezing over completely. Theoretically, the fishing should have been good here, but it wasn’t.
He pauses at the edge of the river, watching the water cascade over ice-slicked rocks a moment before dipping his head down to drink, pondering which direction they should head off in today.
RE: what the water gave me - Ceimca - February 08, 2018
The snow was nothing like she had ever experienced. The young dog was from an incredibly hot and dry landscape. Her entire life had been a fenced outback, only until recently when she had moved to Montana, to be a victim of a lonely life in a heavily forested, and much, much cooler place, which she still didn't fully understand. Crammed into a box, and eventually arriving in a chilly and frightening life with people she didn't know. As time passed they had carried her around like a baby doll until one day they had felt comfortable enough to let her off leash. Well to say, she had wandered too far, and they never found her. Fast forward four months later and here she was, exploring this cold and violent life by herself.
Blond fur bounced as she strode, struggling through deep snow, the coast on her right, deep forest on her left. How she managed was something else, but she had. She had yet to come across any other scents beside vermin and possibly life threatening creatures, such as... round dogs? bears? fortunately her small stature and speed served her well for the time being. A river parted her path and she followed it until crossing a scent she had not yet smelled. A..what... Her upright ears perked and she carefully moved along the banks of the river, eventually noticing a speck in the distance. Withholding a nervous whine she approached, on the otherside of the river, appreiciating at very least the distance of the rushing, albiet nearly frozen waters. Standing at the other side of the river, she peered across at the giant dog...wolf.. she didn't quite know. Her eyes wide, unsure what to say..tail swaying slow behind her haunches. Uncertainly her muzzle parted in a quiet, possibly inaudible bark of curiosity. "G'day?" She woofed, all she had gathered from the brutes scent was that he was indeed a male.. her body held her stance but her mind told her to run, however she didn't, mere inquisitively driving her. Besides the body of water separating them, her cool auburn eyes fixed on him, having never seen quite such a sight.
RE: what the water gave me - Stockholm - February 16, 2018
So absent-mindedly lost in his thoughts, the Gampr doesn’t hear the light footsteps crunching through the snow on the other side of the river. He does, however, hear the soft bark and pauses mid drink, water dripping from his muzzle as he catches sight of the small dog on the other side of the riverbank.
In his time with the Man he had met plenty of dogs of all types and sizes, but since washing ashore in the Teekon he had honestly not expected to encounter any of his domestic brethren unless perhaps they were of mixed blood like himself and Seelie. And for a moment he wonders if he might still be dreaming.
He cocks his head to the side in curiosity before remembering his manners – dream or no dream, his father hadn’t raised him to be impolite. “Hello.”
His gaze lingers over the tags on the dog’s collar, and a strange flicker of hope dances in his heart at the thought of seeing humans again. Quickly squashed by the reminder that Seelie’s experiences with the bipeds had not been a pleasant one, and she would not be near as pleased as he would be to be in their presence again. “I’m Stockholm. Are you.. here with your people?”
In his time with the Man he had met plenty of dogs of all types and sizes, but since washing ashore in the Teekon he had honestly not expected to encounter any of his domestic brethren unless perhaps they were of mixed blood like himself and Seelie. And for a moment he wonders if he might still be dreaming.
He cocks his head to the side in curiosity before remembering his manners – dream or no dream, his father hadn’t raised him to be impolite. “Hello.”
His gaze lingers over the tags on the dog’s collar, and a strange flicker of hope dances in his heart at the thought of seeing humans again. Quickly squashed by the reminder that Seelie’s experiences with the bipeds had not been a pleasant one, and she would not be near as pleased as he would be to be in their presence again. “I’m Stockholm. Are you.. here with your people?”
RE: what the water gave me - Coelacanth - March 11, 2018
Coelacanth was not a jealous creature, but —
— yeah, no, okay, fine, she had her moments.
Incensed by the spice and sizzle of the breeding season, Coelacanth found herself unusually possessive of the Gampr. It’d always been there on some level — she’d been the one to find and care for him, just as she had Aditya, and the two males had carved within her heart two indelible, self-shaped spaces where only they fit. Now, though, there was a new urgency in the way she glued herself to the Armenian’s steps. Her biological clock, which had previously been on SNOOZE MODE for the year’s breeding season, had slowly begun to tick anew, perhaps influenced by her upswing in mental and physical health, and her cousin’s evinced fertility. Though she was still a few weeks away from the giddiness of proestrus, she was already beginning to exhibit certain behavioral changes that indicated it was on the horizon — especially in her Stockholm’s presence.
So when she found him talking to a girl who presented three very real threats — for one thing, she was a girl; for another, as a domesticated dog, she was sexually mature; and for a third, she wore a collar — Coelacanth surged forth with an uncharacteristically forward air and slid herself silkily between the Gampr and the Australian Terrier. Naturally graceful, she made a point of snaking her body sinuously against his broad chest, the crown of her head rubbing along the underside of his jaw. “Okay, Stockholm has to go now,” bespoke the pointed look she shot the smaller dog. Tufts of feathery, inkdark fur caught on the vreccale’s barbs, leaving the Groenendael’s scent irrevocably tied to the Gampr’s, as she wound her body around his with more than a little pressure as she leaned her weight against him. Then, she nipped at his hip with a spiced whuff and danced languidly away; and the gaze she cast at him over one shoulder was somehow both apologetic and suggestive.
“Sorry not sorry!”
— yeah, no, okay, fine, she had her moments.
Incensed by the spice and sizzle of the breeding season, Coelacanth found herself unusually possessive of the Gampr. It’d always been there on some level — she’d been the one to find and care for him, just as she had Aditya, and the two males had carved within her heart two indelible, self-shaped spaces where only they fit. Now, though, there was a new urgency in the way she glued herself to the Armenian’s steps. Her biological clock, which had previously been on SNOOZE MODE for the year’s breeding season, had slowly begun to tick anew, perhaps influenced by her upswing in mental and physical health, and her cousin’s evinced fertility. Though she was still a few weeks away from the giddiness of proestrus, she was already beginning to exhibit certain behavioral changes that indicated it was on the horizon — especially in her Stockholm’s presence.
So when she found him talking to a girl who presented three very real threats — for one thing, she was a girl; for another, as a domesticated dog, she was sexually mature; and for a third, she wore a collar — Coelacanth surged forth with an uncharacteristically forward air and slid herself silkily between the Gampr and the Australian Terrier. Naturally graceful, she made a point of snaking her body sinuously against his broad chest, the crown of her head rubbing along the underside of his jaw. “Okay, Stockholm has to go now,” bespoke the pointed look she shot the smaller dog. Tufts of feathery, inkdark fur caught on the vreccale’s barbs, leaving the Groenendael’s scent irrevocably tied to the Gampr’s, as she wound her body around his with more than a little pressure as she leaned her weight against him. Then, she nipped at his hip with a spiced whuff and danced languidly away; and the gaze she cast at him over one shoulder was somehow both apologetic and suggestive.
“Sorry not sorry!”