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+--- Thread: Duck Lake looking like a snack (/showthread.php?tid=31612)
looking like a snack - Natjuk - December 24, 2018
Set before dusk on the 22nd.
Birds are such spectacular creations. Their symphonies carry far, even on wing. Covered head to the leg in pinions, the likes of which produce color and pattern most vivid and outlandish. They fly and hover and veer with such grace in the air. A feat incomprehensible to earthbound occupants. But for all their finesse in the atmosphere above, they lose that grace. Often.He breaks free of his cover with gaping jaws, hurtling tides and ripples all across the pool. Most of the lake's tenants take to the air instantly with a panicked sound, beating their wings with zeal. Except for one.
A male Merganser is secured by the neck, dangling from his mouth. Natjuk hurriedly flees to the popples that kiss the lake. Joining with the aspen shroud from the ducks' collective focus, the loner begins his meal in sequestered peace.
RE: looking like a snack - Ruenna - December 26, 2018
Rue had hoped to snatch up a duck for her own snack, but it the other hunter beat her to the punch. She sighed inwardly as she watched the flock take to the air, a furious cloud of flapping wings and indignant quacks. In a moment, all that was left of them were a few downy feathers floating lazily down around the hunter, the man standing victorious with his meal hanging from his jaws.
Rue lifted herself from her hidden position with a congratulatory, chuffing bark to signal her presence. She then waved her tail amicably before resettling onto the ground, hoping to communicate to the hunter that she was in no way interested in taking his spoils. She was simply available for conversation, should he desire any. Unwilling to trigger any kind of territorial instinct within the stranger, she would not approach him uninvited while he had food in his possession.
RE: looking like a snack - Natjuk - December 27, 2018
A laudatory bark is detected. It is paid no mind, his stomach dictating everything he does. With the taste of blood in his mouth, he wrestles with outside stimulus. Eat first, investigate later.
And eat he does, plucking the duck's feathers with rapidity before riving on the delicacy underneath. The duck is larger than most. Still a morsel to the likes of him. He is as bestial as his appetite, so the duck is eaten within a span of minutes.
He shifts back onto the frozen loam of the lake, perceptions fixed on the remaining waterfowl. Most of them have flown off. The few that remain are on high alert. Some are vivified by his amble, issuing a quack! to let others know.
She mingles well with their snowy surroundings, her fur a washed-out quality as if blanched by an untiring sun. Apprehension keeps him at a distance. She may have had the mind to keep away from his food but his fight with that lunatic is still fresh in his mind. So he stops three wolf lengths away, enkindling with a receptive woof should she want to come closer or chat. Whichever is fine.
Unbeknownst to him, down sticks to his muzzle. Some are white while others are scarlet.
RE: looking like a snack - Ruenna - January 19, 2019
Rue lingered patiently as the man finished his meal, lowering her frame into the snow to watch the ducks resettle. She debated over whether to attempt to grab one for herself, but it was likely the flock would be more wary after witnessing the demise of one of their comrades.
Rue's attention turned to the man as he approached, and the closer he came the bigger he seemed to get. Rue rose to her feet. She was not as wary around strangers as she used to be, trusting the packscent clinging to her pelt to protect her. Even so, the man was quite large, and Rue was unwilling to remain upon the ground with his massive, feathery, bloody-spattered form looming over her.
"..Hello," she greeted him after a beat, when it became clear he was not going to speak first. "I'm Ruenna, of Blacktail Deer Plateau." Her tail stirred in a small showing of amicability.
RE: looking like a snack - Natjuk - January 20, 2019
She erects herself, providence the source in doing so. He peers with a squared head between his massive shoulders, offering a peaceable wag in acknowledgment. With slaked hunger, he was feeling much more amiable now. And who knows - he may find a compatriot in this female as he had Huntington.
Natjuk.The reticence that follows spoke of his allegiance: nothing, no one, alone. And he has willfully suffered because of it. The wounds on his face, chest, and arm have since scabbed over. Out of them all, he's convinced the cut on his upper arm will scar.
Good.
So, she runs with others. Given the numerous smells emitting from her person, he expected as much. He does not have much to offer in way of who he's associated with rather than where. Scents of fern and cattail, of wind and rime, exude from his windswept furs. There is also the smell of days old blood...and the one who harmed him.
While many subjects flutter through his mind - namely when his next meal will be - he is contrarily quiet. She approached him, after all.
RE: looking like a snack - Ruenna - January 24, 2019
Rue's eyes flicked up and down in a quick appraisal of the man. Tssk, it looked like some of the blood matted in his fur wasn't from the ducks. Natjuk had clearly gotten himself into trouble out here, and from the smell of things... it was a wolf who had injured him.
He seemed to be a wolf of few words, which Rue could appreciate. She would get to the point, then.
"We're recruiting," Rue disclosed, one brow quirking in curiosity. "The Plateau can always find a place for an accomplished hunter." No harm in letting the man know he had impressed her... and perhaps she would even earn a recruit out of this encounter. Perhaps Natjuk was tired of being beat up by lone wolf life.
RE: looking like a snack - Natjuk - January 25, 2019
Her words garner a drawn-out rumble of
hmm.This is the second time he has been accosted to join a pack. First, it had been Niamh and her Redhawks and now it is Ruenna. Not that he's complaining this late into winter. Triumphant he may be, the truth is most of his pursuits end in failure. He has thinned considerably since his first steps into Teekon. Like it or not, he is fighting a losing battle.
In face of death, he is defiant.
What more can you tell me of Blacktail Deer Plateau?
RE: looking like a snack - Ruenna - January 28, 2019
Rue nodded. "We are located on a plateau at the western edge of the mountain chain. So far we have housed more mercenaries than those of other specialties, but we value all trades alike." The Plateau wolves would take what they could get at the moment, especially in the wake of the latest departures.
Perhaps Natjuk was a hunter? He certainly had the look at the moment. "We mostly live off the blacktail deer herd in the flatlands below the plateau. Food has been plentiful so far... it's a good life."
Rue gave a conclusive nod of her head, turning toward home. "Please find me at the border, if you wish to know more." With that the young lady swept away, hoping her words had piqued the curiosity of the adept hunter.