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+--- Thread: Seaside Moors So I've gotten used to coffee sweats (/showthread.php?tid=31001)
So I've gotten used to coffee sweats - RIP Niamh - November 26, 2018
wc:377
@Vekesh
@Vekesh
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As the sun came up, Niamh stretched. Today, Niamh had decided to take a trip out to the coast, the track West past the Isle and skirt the Shadewood, but to at least make her presence known in the moors, which could potentially be the hunting grounds of the Shadewood wolves….But if they were going to make their presence known on Two Rivers Isle, then she was going to do the same out in the Moors. It might’ve begun as nothing more than a pissing match, but Niamh didn’t care. They were supposed to have sent someone to speak to the Redhawks by now...So she figured that making a more bold move and perusing the hunting grounds between their pack and the oceanside was fair game as long as she didn’t rove through the woods they seem to have claimed.It was a fair morning but by the afternoon, the wind had picked up, driving against her face as she made her way toward the moors, following along the tracks of a herd of deer that had chosen to vacate the Isle and rove toward the coast. Probably due to the fact that two packs were now using the Isle for hunting grounds- but that was just likely Niamh being paranoid and selfish. If she had her way, she would have taken three or four of their strongest wolves and ambushed them by now. She didn’t like having to hold back, but she’d do so until the time came when they had no other choice but to force the Shadewood wolves out of their home...As long as they hadn’t gained enough members by then to be a force to be reckoned with.
The wind seemed to lift her spirits as the sun began to draw down toward the watery horizon in the distance as she roved along. The herd’s tracks were old- but she found something newer and more interesting. While she couldn’t take her excess energy out on the herd or the Shadewood wolves, a coyote would definitely do. She began to track it down, hoping that it might actually have some sauce to it- unlike most of the others who took off into a run as soon as they saw a wolf.
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RE: So I've gotten used to coffee sweats - Vekesh - November 27, 2018
The creature continued on his way, and even though he disliked the feeling of sand between his toes and the roaring of the ocean, things were calmer now and he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to travel where no beast has gone before — at least, no beast from his tribe. If he could return home and tell them of his travels, that's what he'd love to do. Ve'kesh knew that was an impossibility but the sentiment carried him across the sand all the same. He pretended that he was visiting a far-away place of mystical importance. Maybe if he found the right stone, gathered the right number of shells, or bled on the right patch of sand then the spirits would be pleased enough to allow his return?
He was hopeful but it was an empty hope. Ve'kesh knew that he had been banished for the extent of his life; it was the tribe's style of forcing dispersal to individuals that had finished their schooling. The fact that he had been banished so young was actually good; the elders had not indoctrinated him to any specific role, not pledged his soul to any spirits before he could make that choice himself. The fact that his tutor had to die for that to happen wasn't sad, not to the creature anyways, who saw the death of the old shaman as a moment of personal ascension. He had not let that man go to waste either—he carried the shaman's wisdom with him and burned his body like fuel, forever ingraining his power in to Ve'kesh. The old man would always be with him now, and that was the real reason his tribe had tossed him out. They had no power now.
Such musings filled the beast's mind as he puttered along in the sand, with his head level with the scattered rocks and shells. He found few things that could serve any ritualistic purpose, at least until he came upon a few larger segments of rock jutting from the sand, exposed by the retreating sea. The rocks were slab-like and shining with a layer of sea water; above them were piles of weeds, stones, and feathers. As Ve'kesh began to root around in that pile of debris he thought he felt something pinch at his nose and his lips, so he withdrew and watched a few tiny crabs scuttle for cover.
With a huff, he gave up his brief exploration and shook the sand and wet grass from his face.
RE: So I've gotten used to coffee sweats - RIP Niamh - November 27, 2018
wc:412
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There was something about sand that Niamh disliked, but at the same time, it was better than snow...But having both was definitely not pleasant. Here, though, the wind had been high enough to push the snow away so that there was only sand left to walk on, and Niamh could clearly see the set of coyote tracks as they meandered along the beach. She couldn’t help herself; Niamh was the sort of wolf whose bedtime stories as a youngster had almost always included some sort of vermin being chased away by a wolf. Foxes, coyotes, bobcats, weasels, badgers- anything that was a meat-eater but not a wolf- and no larger than a wolf, of course- was vermin. So it had long since been instilled in Niamh a sort of righteousness that made her feel superior to their smaller canine cousins rather than feeling a sort of kinship. A pity, really; considering she could have totally enjoyed the dogs versus cats argument and joined sides with coyotes and foxes to pick on bobcats and lynx. The only issue there, of course, was the issue of cougars. Those weren’t vermin. Those were terrors.Still, she looked forward to tracking the coyote down so she hastened her step. In her opinion, a coyote could never beat a wolf in a fight. Nor could a fox, so this was the sort of thing she could do- like the heroes in her bedtime stories- for fun. It was a twisted sort of entertainment, but Niamh had never told anyone she was perfect or without some pretty wrong flaws. She saw vermin as prey, but the kind of prey that didn’t taste as good as herbivores. Therefore, they were to be killed and only eaten if absolutely necessary. Some days, like today though, she simply wanted to terrorize, rather than to kill.
When she caught sight of something greyish moving along the horizon, she dodged behind the sand dunes and pushed her speed a bit. She didn’t want to tire herself, but she needed to catch up to the coyote. Niamh was made for speed and endurance, with her garishly long legs and small body, so it didn’t take long until she felt she was able to make a bold dash, cresting the top of a sand dune and breaking into a mad run directly toward the coyote. ”Varmint!” She yelled almost gleefully as she barrelled toward the poor creature, her eyes glittering with anticipation.
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RE: So I've gotten used to coffee sweats - Vekesh - November 28, 2018
If he had been more mindful of his surroundings, things would've been different. The scent of wolf was an obvious one but at the moment of Niamh's arrival the coywolf was nose-deep in another patch of something, and all he could smell was the salt brine which coated all things. He should've seen the bolt of gold careening towards him, or maybe heard her crunching across the snowy sand, but in that collection of moments Ve'kesh was either too distracted or too inexperienced with the sea so close; he didn't know what was happening until she shouted out a word. At first he thought he heard someone shouting his name, and that sent a chill down his spine — the tribe rarely sent out headhunters and his crime might've been a decent one, but Ve'kesh would've never imagined being so vilified to earn himself a place on a kill list of any kind. His head went up, his ears faced the sound, and he focused on identifying where it came from.
Almost instantly the creature saw the blurry gold figure; it was moving faster than any coyote, with fur the color of an autumn elm that contrasted to an extreme level against the backdrop of greys and blues of the beach. It was hard not to see it coming once he'd leveled his gaze at it; the expression on the wolf's face was something he didn't quite catch, because he was turning and scrambling against the grit of the beach to try and escape. Sand and shells flew out from beneath his narrow paws as he struggled to get a move on, bolting like any panicked creature might in an effort to avoid any ill-intent.
Ve'kesh wasn't a warrior. He wasn't a sneak, although he had some aptitude with cavorting through the darkness. He wasn't built to be a physical creature even though he was larger than most of the coyotes of his tribe (for reasons he never explored). He was devoted to more spiritual pursuits, employing his mind rather than his body. It was rare for him to have to run full-tilt like this, and as he went he thought, 'Foggin' varg! I deedn't do nodding—shooda learn from da headhuntas—foggin' beesh!' His thoughts were inturrupted as he came upon a rocky ledge that led to another section of the beach, one with less sand and more solidity for him to grasp at; feeling briefly elated Ve'kesh focused and picked up speed, heading away from the oceanside and closer to where the grass sprung up.
If he could just make it beyond the tall grassline, to the trees and the bushes that grew beyond all the salt, he knew he could survive this. When he saw the dark bands of plant-life struggling to grow up ahead of him, he felt even better. What came next was a stupid move but he couldn't help it—he turned his head slightly so that his wolf-gold gaze could catch upon his pursuer, and he called out to her boldly:
Pa'ku guakun inibag glogzag ashide! Gorou'lrag gulueveum duleakum gloge!
Of course, the poor imbicile of a wolf didn't know what the hell he was saying.
RE: So I've gotten used to coffee sweats - RIP Niamh - November 28, 2018
WC: 347
So google is SUPER confusing...If you look up a coyote's top speed vs a wolf's, it says that a coyote can go a bit faster (59-69km/h as opposed to a wolf's 50-60km/h). BUT if you google "would a coyote outrun a wolf" it's all like NAHHH a wolf will win every time. So I have no idea; the views expressed below are Niamh's, since she has no access to the googles XD
So google is SUPER confusing...If you look up a coyote's top speed vs a wolf's, it says that a coyote can go a bit faster (59-69km/h as opposed to a wolf's 50-60km/h). BUT if you google "would a coyote outrun a wolf" it's all like NAHHH a wolf will win every time. So I have no idea; the views expressed below are Niamh's, since she has no access to the googles XD
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Like a dog chasing a squirrel, Niamh dashed after the coyote which looked up and glanced at her only briefly before it sped away. She had longer legs, but lost ground as the coyote breached the dunes between the beach and the harder ground of the mainland so she cursed softly. She dug in, and whatever jibberish it was that he sent her way fell on deaf ears. He was a coyote- coyotes were all full of nonsense, so it wouldn’t have mattered if she’d even understood him. She followed the same strategy he’d used, arching toward the firmer terrain and as soon as it began to solidify beneath her paws, she bounded over the rocky hem of the beach and onto solid land. Now, she could put her garishly long legs to good use.With a wicked grin, she bolted forward, careful and ready to tilt this way or that should he show any indication of wanting to veer one way or another. She was like a missile, locked onto its target, and she wanted nothing more than to simply bowl him over and give him a good bruising. She wasn’t hungry, and enjoyed the game of chase, given the fact that a wolf would almost certainly outpace a coyote- both in a sprint and in endurance, or so she figured. There was no way something with shorter legs than her could possibly be faster than her in a straight-out sprint. It could possibly outmaneuver her, of course, which was why Niamh focused to intently on the coyote’s movements. She’d learned, from hunting down prey, to mirror their movements should they feign a turn or actually make one.
”C’MON!” She called, cackling. ”I JUST WANNA PLAY!” There was a grin on her face, sure, and her tongue lolled out the side of her mouth. To another wolf, she might have looked somewhat, sort of playful...But to anything that might possibly fear being eaten by a wolf, it would likely have been a lot more sinister an expression than she really intended.
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