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+--- Thread: Haunted Wood I'm just one, but I'm trying (/showthread.php?tid=30819)
I'm just one, but I'm trying - Lorelei - November 15, 2018
With morning light's she left the marshes behind in favor of the cover of forest. With luck, perhaps the witch would find a meal there.
The floor may have been shaded if not for the small death of cruel autumn. The branches of the mighty oaks were bare, skeletal fingers as they brushed together in the wind. Between their trunks grew withered grass, encased with a crust of frost that crackled underfoot. The remains of a few frozen plants lingered, hinting towards better days in the warm season.
A promising odor on the wind lifted her dark muzzle as she padded through the forest, a paw lifting as she paused to detect the scent. Hare...female perhaps...some short distance east.
Hunger gnawed at her bones, demanding that she feed. Lorelei gave into the base need, prowling the frigid forest with refreshed care now that she was on the hunt. The long-eared prey awaited her amongst the trees, nibbling daintly at a patch of moss.
The Daughter paused, preparing to creep as close as she could before the mammal detected her presence only to be halted mid-crouch by a blur of tawny grey.
A lynx, the tufted ears told her as it landed atop her snack and sunk fangs into the base of its nape. The witch watched with disappointed fascination as it dispatched the game, sparing Lorelei a cursory glance as it fled unhurriedly into the domain of the forest.
It would be folly to pursue, even as ravenous as she was. A lynx could seriously injure a single wolf and the hare simply wasn't worth it.
Turning, the fae continued on her path.
RE: I'm just one, but I'm trying - Dirge - November 23, 2018
The shifting density of the hallow ground may have warded off lesser creatures, but Dirge was not one of them. Perhaps it was ignorance or arrogance, perhaps neither at all. There was a particular silence here that he had found in other patches of timber, a lingering fog that coiled and twisted as though pulled by an unseen puppeteer, but there was life unguided as well. As of late he had pushed himself through the outer fringes of the region for the solitude it lent, but also just as much for the change of scenery it offered. He had found such solitude in the northern reaches of the weald some time ago, but it had been stifling at one point. Here, not so much.
It was in the wake of steps left by another predator he moved, adapting now to the role of a scavenger as the season seemed to melt from autumn to winter without so much as a warning. Snow was intermittent now, the clouds moving in distantly from offshore to hide away vibrant sunlight; the earth shed its pelage and left trees bare and grasses to bend and break. He took his time on purpose—it was a fool's errand to rush in at the heels of another, be it of ursine, feline, or canine proportions—hoping to find leftovers uncovered, and hopefully unattended.
He found neither of these of course, other than the appearance of a swarthy tigress of a she-wolf to steal his attention and divert his course. Where he would have at one time mistaken her for Hydra, there had been marked improvement in that area. Though Hydra certainly had a robustness about her, this wolf matched his height entirely where others had not. A low chuff was offered then as his steps brought him to curtail distance, and he ventured a guess as to what had brought her there.
”Seems you're not having much luck here either.”
hope you don't mind me!