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+--- Thread: Bearclaw Valley starving in the belly of a whale (/showthread.php?tid=30000)
starving in the belly of a whale - RIP Ningiok - October 04, 2018
Could be a joining thread, could just be a snoopy old woman. Want her off your lawn? Just let me know. @Nunataq
The need to fill her belly caused the crone to drift south from the grove, but her luck wasn't so great. She spent the night in a forest bordering a moorland that was, she decided, filled with awful smells and grotesque soil the likes of which she would've prefered never to touch. Her faded coat was marred by slick mud and grime from the soggy landscape when she chose to sleep, but could not get herself comfortable. A pain in her hip started up, and Ningiok sullenly resigned herself to a restless night. She would have to keep adjusting her position and occasionally would take herself on short walks to warm the troubled area; by morning she'd crawled her way west of the moor and that was how she ended up discovering the valley.
She was tired. A cranky old bat was one thing, but a tired cranky old bat was an entirely different animal. She found some indication that there were game animals living in the valley and that lured her closer; but then she found the obvious signs of a pack, and had to make herself slow down. Ningiok knew the law of the wolf—she had been a matriarch in her own time, had enforced the same rules and protected her own claim in her youth. If she wanted something to eat, she would have to get beyond this invisible line.
The woman licked her lips, imagining the taste of warm meat upon her tongue, but did not press her luck. She kept herself a safe distance from the border markings out of respect for whatever family lived deeper in the valley, and busied herself with studying the land and its many smells in case she could find something smaller—a pheasant, or a plump hare, she hoped. Images of pristine white birds and ghostly rabbits danced in her mind and she felt her belly gurgle in response; but the animals here would not look like that, she reminded herself. Maybe the hunting was vastly different in this warm, easy place.
She was tired. A cranky old bat was one thing, but a tired cranky old bat was an entirely different animal. She found some indication that there were game animals living in the valley and that lured her closer; but then she found the obvious signs of a pack, and had to make herself slow down. Ningiok knew the law of the wolf—she had been a matriarch in her own time, had enforced the same rules and protected her own claim in her youth. If she wanted something to eat, she would have to get beyond this invisible line.
The woman licked her lips, imagining the taste of warm meat upon her tongue, but did not press her luck. She kept herself a safe distance from the border markings out of respect for whatever family lived deeper in the valley, and busied herself with studying the land and its many smells in case she could find something smaller—a pheasant, or a plump hare, she hoped. Images of pristine white birds and ghostly rabbits danced in her mind and she felt her belly gurgle in response; but the animals here would not look like that, she reminded herself. Maybe the hunting was vastly different in this warm, easy place.
RE: starving in the belly of a whale - Nunataq - October 09, 2018
I apologize for the wait.
Nunataq had found a new outpost to fulfill her daily guardian duties - it was a nice flat piece of rock, low enough for the five month old pup to jump on it effortlessly and high enough to give her a great view over the meadows outside her forest. She had much promise to become a great mercenary one day, but no one cared to teach her properly, therefore, when she was not play-fighting with other puppies (which was very rare nowadays), Nuna had her creative ways of, how to be a good guardian.
A lot of, what she did, came from spying on Xan, Indra or Laurel, when they did patrols. She tried to mimic them as much as she could and was under impressio that she was doing really well. But a bystander, instead of seeing a trained soldier in full outfit and gear, would see a kid in dirty and worn clothes marching back and forth, liftig his feet comically high and with a broom over her shoulder pretending that it was a rifle.
She had tried out the marking thing as well. Naturally, she did not read the yoga-book from the beginning, but opened it right in the middle. Metaphor aside - all her attempts to lift her hind leg as high as she had seen her father doing - ended up in her losing balance and falling over. She also did not have that iron-clad control over her bladder. If she weed, then she weed until that stash of marking-material inside her belly had depleted to null. How her dad - for example - managed to pee in small portions, not have his bladder burst in the process, was beyond Nuna.
Therefore Nunataq decided that her contribution to marking borders would be a particular landmark - a big toadstool that Merrick had discovered the other day. And ever since she went there to wee all over it (and it did not matter that this mushroom was nowhere near the borders). The good thing - no one claimed that mark as theirs. The bad thing - after a week of effort the toadstool died from unnatural death of being drowned and choked by an assortment of inorganic salts and organic compounds, including proteins, hormones, and a wide range of metabolites, varying by what was introduced to Nuna's body diluted by 90% of water.
And this was the reason, why Nunataq was lying atop her observation-rock, chewing on a piece of a what had once been the left femur from a rabbit and was contemplating, what landmark to choose now, when she spotted a dirty white wolf, nearing the borders. Duty!!! Nuna sprang to her feet and with the bone still lodged between her teeth (and giving her a look of an underage-smoker) she focused on the figure and barked. As she did - the bone flew out from her mouth, made a curve in the air and landed not too far from the old she-wolf.
RE: starving in the belly of a whale - RIP Ningiok - October 16, 2018
Apologies on my end this time!
The more she moseyed the more frustrated she felt, and hungry, although both sensations were pretty common these days considering her age and level of ability. Ningiok thought about how easy it had once been to prowl the ice wastes for sleeping hare, and began to reminice about such moments where she felt the cold wind on her back and felt the splintering bone between her teeth; it took over her mind to the point where the old woman forgot about the present. Memory melded in to memory, and soon she was thinking about the poignant moment of her first hunt, her brothers and sisters racing around her after a great caribou, kicking up snow as they drove it deeper —
And she was brought back to the needy present by a sharp bark, the sound jostling her mentally and flooding her with temporary confusion while the rememberance of icy winds dwindled; she felt the October sunlight cut across her back, felt the dirt and grass beneath her steps, and the many layers of a long-ago life drifted away. The crone stopped her pacing at that cue, the fur of her nape and tail puffing where it still grew long, and she leveled a sharp eye in one direction then the next as she tried to find the bearer of the voice.
It took a little longer than it should have; the sound of something falling and clattering didn't register in her old ears, but once Ningiok spotted the tawny-and-dark child perched on the stretch of rock, she calmed a little. It hadn't occurred to the old woman yet that her wandering had taken her just a little bit too close to the pack's claim. She eyed the child for a moment and then, rolling her eyes a little, huffed a dissatisfied little noise between her teeth.
As she made to depart she spotted the curve of bone—and with a creaky step, noticed the gnaw marks. Her eyes narrowed conspiratorially — and then she reached and snapped at the bone, grabbing it from its place on the dirt and carrying it with her. The child wasn't forgotten, but Ningiok played up her behavior as if she hadn't actually noticed young Nunataq. This was a game she used to play with her own children—to teach them to keep track of their belongings, and force them to be more mindful. Plus, well, she may as well have a little fun while she wandered.
And she was brought back to the needy present by a sharp bark, the sound jostling her mentally and flooding her with temporary confusion while the rememberance of icy winds dwindled; she felt the October sunlight cut across her back, felt the dirt and grass beneath her steps, and the many layers of a long-ago life drifted away. The crone stopped her pacing at that cue, the fur of her nape and tail puffing where it still grew long, and she leveled a sharp eye in one direction then the next as she tried to find the bearer of the voice.
It took a little longer than it should have; the sound of something falling and clattering didn't register in her old ears, but once Ningiok spotted the tawny-and-dark child perched on the stretch of rock, she calmed a little. It hadn't occurred to the old woman yet that her wandering had taken her just a little bit too close to the pack's claim. She eyed the child for a moment and then, rolling her eyes a little, huffed a dissatisfied little noise between her teeth.
As she made to depart she spotted the curve of bone—and with a creaky step, noticed the gnaw marks. Her eyes narrowed conspiratorially — and then she reached and snapped at the bone, grabbing it from its place on the dirt and carrying it with her. The child wasn't forgotten, but Ningiok played up her behavior as if she hadn't actually noticed young Nunataq. This was a game she used to play with her own children—to teach them to keep track of their belongings, and force them to be more mindful. Plus, well, she may as well have a little fun while she wandered.
RE: starving in the belly of a whale - Stigmata - October 16, 2018
aware of his own intentions, and particularly mindful of indra's trodden mood, stigmata kept near bearclaw's borders - conceivably prepared to escape at a moment's notice. he wasn't looking for an out at that time, however; he was most interested in young nunataq's less-than-efficient method of patrolling the borders. luckily for their stead, the scrappy kid on the front wasn't their only line of defense. a dark and fortified veteran lurked near, and when the fawn girl with the shadowy mouth was alerted to the presence of another, so was he.
stigmata perked up, trotting to a position where he could see both parties involved and intervene quickly if needed. he eyed the older she-wolf first, and noted her respect for the borders and current lack of malice towards the foreign child. she was favorable, he thought— if only for wisdom beyond his years— but also quite aware that it could be ploy, since she had not sought an audience herself.
the smokehound watched for now, at militant attention, content to watch and see if nunataq would beckon for yet-unseen backup or if she would attempt to handle the stranger on her own. he had no idea the girl had... been around the block before, so to speak.
RE: starving in the belly of a whale - Nunataq - October 18, 2018
The old lady acknowledged Nunataq, but none of the usual meet-and-greet stuff followed. Instead she sneaked up on her bone, picked it up and took off (as much as old ladies can take off). What the... the proud guardian's expression changed from overly pompous and self-important to confused and what-should-I-do-now-like. She followed the she-wolf with her gaze, then made a snap decision to follow her and get back the bone. Or... since the other wolf's mouth was occupied, Nuna could inspect the stranger close-up without fear of getting snapped at.
This she did, but right before she went after the she-wolf, a nagging feeling of being watched made her turn around briefly and scan the immediate vicinity. She spotted that dark male, who had once failed to teach her hunt and in the second occasion had stalked her and Merrick. Her brow furrowed, she bit her lip, wondering, what should she do about him. Frankly speaking, he was annoying her. And had she had the nice flexible and ellegant fingers of a human being, she would have shown him a rude gesture in order to tell that he should bugger off. Since she could not, the next best thing was to ignore him alltogether.
Without another look back she pranced after the older wolf, caught up with her and began to sniff around her hind-quarters. The lady did not seem to pay her much attention. Therefore, when she had stolen back her bone, Nunataq returned to her throne proudly.
Nuna is a little brat - nothing personal.