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+--- Thread: Wheeling Gull Isle Man Machine Poem (/showthread.php?tid=29109)
Man Machine Poem - Thresher - August 14, 2018
It crept up slowly, over the course of the day, carried by the wind. The morning had been bright, with a pale blue sky, but as the day went on, that cerulean slowly became an odd, hazy golden grey. Of course, the young pup didn't take notice of the sky, not until the evening came around and she toddled out of the den after an afternoon nap. It was then that the smell hit her, and caused her nose to wrinkle. She tentatively moved further from the den's mouth, and looked up into the sky where the setting sun had turned to a bright pink behind the sheet of golden haze. Thresher's ears turned back- she'd never seen anything like that before.
The smell was new to her too, and made the back of her throat feel scratchy, and when she dropped her gaze, she noticed the soft, greyish film that had covered the leaves and grass. She lowered her head to sniff at it, and made herself sneeze in the process. A few of the ashes landed back on the bridge of her muzzle, which she then tried to paw or lick off, but found that the grey stuff also tasted horrible. Slightly offended and still offput by the strange change in climat, she hunkered down, watching the sun set, hoping that this yucky, fluffy, horrible-tasting stuff would go away.
RE: Man Machine Poem - Moor - August 21, 2018
Have asked to be taken off PPC. I am assuming they are familiar with each other after reading all Coelacanth's tags. Let me know if I should change anything!
Moorhen was not concerned. By now, she had experienced enough ash and smoke that she simply considered it another type of unpleasant weather. She had never seen fire, and although the scent of it made her uneasy in a way she didn't quite understand, she did not know enough to fear it. So, when she saw one of the Shadow's lambs cowering near the den mouth, Moorhen strolled over to give her a soothing lick down her spine. "Peace be," she said, echoing something she heard the girl's mother say from time to time.The air was cleaner in the labyrinth. Moorhen felt that Thresher ought to go back inside to protect her lungs, but she didn't see any harm in letting her stay out for a while. "Water?" she suggested, tipping her nose toward the nearest stream. Maybe something cool to drink would help her acclimate.
RE: Man Machine Poem - Thresher - August 26, 2018
Thresher's opalescent gaze lifted when a familiar figure arrived, causing her little tail to wag from side to side. The dark brown female, with creamy markings around her distant but beautiful gaze, was considered a friend, as she was often greeted warmly by both of Thresher's parents. She didn't move from her position, sitting with her little beige chest pointed toward the West, but she leaned affectionately toward Moorhen when she felt the female's reassuring touch along her spine. Thresher emitted a grateful, loving coo in response, voice barely above a whisper as always. She wriggled her shoulders appreciatively when Moorhen echoed a saying often uttered by her mother, and gave the female a sweet little smile.
When beckoned to find some water, she glanced toward her nearby parents, even though she knew fully well that her parents would always approve of her spending time with their most trusted packmates. She stood up, shook a few more little ashes off her creamy fur and moved alongside Moorhen toward the stream.
Still, the little girl couldn't help but be concerned by whatever it was that was going on with the sky. It was a murky, orangeish colour, and the sun seemed to be dimmer than usual, and more pink in hue. She could look directly at it without squinting due to the cover of smoke. She whined softly, and gestured toward the sun, before looking up at Moorhen with a questioning gaze. Though she knew the words to speak, she still preferred to rely on actions and expressions to convey her thoughts and feelings.
RE: Man Machine Poem - Moor - August 31, 2018
She kept her pace slow so that Thresher could keep up with her shorter stride. As it always was when there was a pup under her care, Moorhen split her time evenly between sweeping suspicious glances over their surroundings and carefully watching her charge. The girl was obviously still concerned. Moorhen followed her gaze, shoulders shifting uneasily as she searched for something to say that might be comforting. It is a waste of time to be afraid of the sky didn't seem like the right answer.
"Sometimes the sky is grey," said said carefully, coming to stand beside the stream. The water ran clean in the middle, but there were swirls of gritty grey along the edges of the water. She stepped into the flow and drank from the clear current and then lifted her head to see if Thresher would do the same. "Sometimes it rains. Sometimes it rains dry. Black."
She looked toward the horizon once more, feeling the sting in her lungs and the grittiness of the ash in her pelt. "Summer skies," she said, giving the girl's cheek a tender kiss. "Summer is almost done."
RE: Man Machine Poem - Thresher - September 04, 2018
The thought of the sky changing so much didn't please Thresher. She thought that the sky should be either blue or dark, not the unusual, smoky grey, bled through with orange. The scent of ash was unpleasant as well, and that was what she didn't understand- would the sky always smell like this? Or was this simply a phase that the sky went through as well? She had questions, but verbalizing them was not her strong suit. She didn't like the way the air tasted or smelled- it made her nervous, for a reason she couldn't explain. Despite never having seen a fire before, Thresher instinctively knew that smoke was not a good thing.
She drank from the stream, and wagged her tail slightly when Moorhen touched her cheek, relieved a bit that whatever this summer was, it was almost over. Of course, she misunderstood what it was Moorhen was trying to convey- but if summer meant the smoky, ashy smell, she'd be glad it was over. As she lifted her head from the stream, a few droplets of water dripped back down, and she snapped at them, trying to catch the water before it hit the surface. She giggled, a breathy, quiet sound more like a gurgle than anything.
RE: Man Machine Poem - Moor - September 09, 2018
To Moorhen, it was just weather, and she had come to associate it with summer the same as thunderstorms and hot, dry sun. Fire was not something she was familiar with, and even if someone tried to explain the concept to her, she would likely fail to comprehend. Only experience would teach her what it was.
Hopefully, things wouldn't come to that.
"Come," she instructed, nudging Thresher back toward the den. "We can explore water cave," she suggested, "where the air is wet." The smell of ash would still cling to them, but at least it would help to soothe their sore lungs.
RE: Man Machine Poem - Thresher - September 10, 2018
When she was nudged, Thresher startled slightly, half-wincing at the contact she hadn't been expecting simply because she'd been focused on the water's surface instead of her surroundings. She recovered easily, though- she'd learned how to do this from her parents who had always reassured her as soon as they'd sensed any amount of nervousness. Her little tail wriggled and she happily padded out of the water, interested in checking out the water cave with Moorhen.
She toddled along behind her packmate, fixating this time on the female's tail as he swung gently from side to side. Unable to help herself, Thresher too sidled from side to side, mouth slightly open, as though she wanted to reach out and grab the feathery tip of Moorhen's tail. She didn-t as she knew such a thing might tweak the hairs and hurt her, but it was still fun to simply chase her tail's motion from side to side as they walked.
RE: Man Machine Poem - Moor - September 23, 2018
It took a moment for Moorhen to notice the drunken sway to the little one's steps. When she did, she aimed a suspicious glance over her shoulder - only for the expression to fall away when she realized what the girl was up to. An ungraceful snort escaped her, and she began flicking her tail more forcefully with each step, hoping to further distract her young charge.
It didn't surprise her that this weather business was distressing to the Shadow's brood. Moorhen thought they were all a bit soft and tender. But anything was better than what she remembered of herself as a child, so she didn't try to undermine Coelacanth and Stockholm's parenting methods by tossing the kids off cliffs or bringing them large crabs to wrestle with.
Nor did she intend to let Treasure out of her sight once they got down into the labrynth. It could be easily navigated by someone with a good sense of direction, and Moorhen often marked her passage by rubbing against the walls if she was afraid she might get turned around - but there were many pockets of deep water (none knew where they might end) and areas with swifter currents that were dangerous to a small cub.
"Better?" she asked as the daylight began to fade behind them. The deeper they got into the narrow channels, the wetter the air became. Moorhen did not enjoy the sensation for long periods of time, but she could appreciate the contrast between the biting of the ash in her lungs and the feeling of breathing through a wet washcloth. This post is terrible, sorry.
RE: Man Machine Poem - Thresher - October 01, 2018
The snort went unnoticed by the Guppy, who did, however, notice that the sway of Moorhen’s tail became more exaggerated. Elated, she continued to pounce from side to side, a whispery giggle escaping her as she did so. Moments like these, where Thresher lost contact with her normal reservations and anxieties, were few and far between- so she enjoyed the little game very much.
She felt safer and more at home led away from the smoke and to a more secluded area. She nodded to Moorhen and touched her nose to the female’s shoulder in appreciation as well. She wriggled her toes in the damp, thin layer of sand, enjoying the cool of it. Absent-mindedly, she sat down and began to drag her claws through the silt, making messy trails and lines that didn’t exactly convey any image in particular, but were still somewhat symmetrical and pleasing to the eye. Once finished, she looked to Moorhen and chuffed, looking for her opinion.
RE: Man Machine Poem - Moor - October 18, 2018
In the darkness of the watery caverns, Moorhen settled and began to groom the ash from her pelt. The water was cool and soothing on her cracked paw pads as she cleansed the grittiness from between her toes. She kept one eye on the girl, making sure she didn't suddenly dart off or disappear altogether, but mostly focused on some much needed R&R.
When Thresher turned to her with her weird macaroni art, Moorhen paused her ministrations to stare deeply at the scratches. It made no sense to her, but there was something kind of.... Nah, they were just scratches. Moorhen gave the girl a perfunctuory kiss on the cheek before going back to her bath.
RE: Man Machine Poem - Thresher - October 19, 2018
She was eager to see Moorhen's reaction- and was given reason to reconsider what she'd just doodled in the sand when Moorhen gave her a lukewarm reaction. She appreciated the encouragement, but Moorhen seemed somewhat dismissive of what she'd been doodling...Though to be fair, it was just a series of scribbles and clawmarks in the silt. Disappointed in the reception of her first masterpiece, Thresher turned around to find another patch of fresh, even sand, and decided to try again- but this time, she actually took a moment to consider what she was doing, and why Moorhen had been somewhat disenchanted with her first work of art.
It'd been too abstract...More doodling than anything concrete. She looked up at Moorhen, and pulled one paw through the sand again, leaving behind four clawmarks in a downward line with a slight bend in it, which somewhat imitated the slope of Moorhen's back. The rest of it went more and more downhill as she tried clumsily to draw Moorhen's likeness in the sand, though it was tough to do so and keep her own pawprints out of the picture. She huffed and puffed disapprovingly, especially when she realized exactly how bloated Moorhen's gut looked, and how saggy her muzzle was...But it at least looked somewhat wolfish, in a sort of early cave-painting sort of way...If those cave paintings had been done by a seven year old. She did, however, place two somewhat similarly shaped, round rocks where Moorhen's eyes were expected to be, and when she did that, she considered herself finished- and huffed once more, to get Moorhen's attention again.
RE: Man Machine Poem - Moor - November 09, 2018
With Thresher occupied, Moorhen allowed herself to relax a small measure. She was clean, the air was sweet, and the distant crash of waves echoed almost like a heartbeat in the island's womb. It felt very safe and serene.
Until she was again summoned to survey the girl's work. Moorhen stared in shock at the picture that Thresher had created, a flicker of uncertainty stirring in her heart. She glanced toward the girl, looking for other signs of witchcraft, but she seemed as harmless and innocent as ever.
Good,she praised, her voice echoing oddly.
We must show your mother,she added. She would see what their Aralez thought of the girl's witchcraft before making any snap judgements.
RE: Man Machine Poem - Thresher - November 11, 2018
WC: 451
Bahahha, Thresher the witch XD
Bahahha, Thresher the witch XD
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The impressionable young girl waited, her breath stifled in her throat even though she wasn’t aware she was holding it, for Moorhen to come and see what she’d made. It took the woman a moment or two to look at it, and in the very least, she looked surprised...But Thresher was a very sensitive young wolf, she sensed that there was something besides delight that Moorhen was feeling. It wasn’t disappointment, no, nor was it anger. Thresher had never been subject to skepticism or judgement before, so she could only perceive Moorhen’s reaction as containing just the tiniest bit of fear, which made no sense to Thresher. She wilted slightly under Moorhen’s watchful eye, wondering if she had done something wrong- and the convinced herself then and there that if she was to do something like this again, that she would keep it to herself- or do it just at the ocean’s edge so that no one would get to see it before the sea washed it away. There was something wrong with what she’d done.Moorhen suggested that they show Coelacanth, and there was a warmth to her praise, but she still couldn’t help but feel that there was something wrong with what she’d done. She looked down at it now, disappointed with herself. All she’d wanted to do was please the stoic female, but she hadn’t been able to do that. She wasn’t nearly as silly or playful as the other adults were, when they were around the pups, and Thresher wasn’t sure she enjoyed that fact very much. Thresher thrived on positive reinforcement and read deeply into the reaction she got from others. So, as she hadn’t gotten the reaction she’d wanted, she settled on keeping that work a secret.
She shrugged silently, and shook her head. It wasn’t that good...Her mother didn’t need to see it. She wasn’t scared of having her mother see it, of course, but if it hadn’t made Moorhen jump for joy, then there was no point in showing it to anyone else. ”S...Silly.” She peeped softly, and moved forward to paw at the sand a few times- just enough to destroy the very rough image she’d drawn. Still grateful for the time she’d gotten to spend with Moorhen, though feeling somewhat defeated deep down inside, she moved forward to touch her nose respectfully to Moorhen’s chin. ”Find Mom,” She breathed softly, as a way to excuse herself. She gave Moorhen one more grateful and fond look- though with a slight sadness to her eyes, and toddled off to find her mother and seek a bit of the reassurance she knew she was sure to get.
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