Sleepy Fox Hollow The Animal Antikythera

Continuation of the final BWP thread found here, which is why it's marked "Random Event," though it's also All Welcome!  :)
For those who'd rather have a little more peace and quiet yet in their personal slice of BWPishness, Nynka's short attention span is going to give out before too terribly long, and you can feel free to play with the new toys she's found once the weasel has left, as well, as far as I'm (OOCly) concerned.  ;)  (Right at this moment Nynka is more likely to bite anyone wanting to touch her Precious, however... patience will win out.  XD )  My thought is that it's got mostly-unbroken solar panels that it's cabled to, as that would make sense for a crew working in remote areas, and also enable it to stay "alive" for a good while longer should anyone wish to keep messing with it.
Also: as far as I'm concerned you don't have to try to match my post length, especially since it might get a little out of hand at this hour...lol.

Victory soared through her heart on blazing fiery wings as she continued to yank her latest prize along, its glitteringly bright outer shell clanging and thunking at uneven intervals along the ground and starting to look the worse for wear. Before hauling it along another few feet Nynka paused to readjust her jaws on its more-convenient rubbery limb, which was starting to kink and droop and acquire some deep but neat-edged little tooth holes in its length. Surprisingly, these didn't bleed a single drop. Nynka wasn't sure what sort of animal this was—it smelled more like a mere thing, but she was hoping that was just a trick of concealment from its shiny strange outer shell—but she had found it, it belonged to her now, and she was insistent that it was going to reveal all its secrets to her, sooner rather than later. All those stupid wolves could keep that stupid half-burnt, maybe even already-dead two-legger beast. Nynka had her trophy right here, and boy wouldn't they be sorry if only they knew what they were missing. But for now they were totally out of sight, and the stink of old fox musk hereabouts had nearly overpowered their scents entirely, to boot.

It was really rather surprising that this small creature could manhandle such a bulky and surprisingly heavy device such as this, especially since it outsprawled her own slender body's expanse considerably and in several dimensions. But Nynka was a determined little beast, and its own inertial will to stay put was no match for her demands that it move it, move it now. ...Here, no there, right at the edge of this tiny clearing, that was a good and bulky tree root for it to rest itself against, one that would trip it up in case it peeked out of its shell and got any ideas about trying to flee. She set her brown-speckled forepaws and pointy nose against it and shoved it firmly one last time: STAY. She fixed it with a stern eye, just in case it was thinking about disobeying, and then began to give it a thorough inspection, sniffing intently and occasionally clattering a claw experimentally along its length. It was stubborn, this strange alien critter, and staying firmly holed up inside its shell. She shoved her nose at it repeatedly, mentally commanding it Tell me! Tell me what you are! as she worked her way down toward one of its more dirt-caked corners, right at the spot where her keen gaze saw the line of its sharp-cornered, gleaming shell was interrupted by a small stone that had gotten wedged and was just starting to peel back that otherwise seemingly impenetrable shield. Yes!

She snuffled madly, taking deep inhalations of its innards and then even going so far as to stick a claw fruitlessly inside it before sitting back and licking her lips in disappointment. Even sniffing under its shell there didn't seem to be much to this thing, nothing tasty or alive. Maybe she'd have to go find something better to hunt, in just a moment, if this thing didn't start cooperating better. She reached her paws out and shoved at it in frustration, tumbling its boxy form up and over the tree root, whereupon it spilled out a smaller, flatter box-thing from its side, which tumbled down to earth with a shrill and sudden BEEP BEEP BEEP BOOP. Nynka leapt back and stared at the thing, as her startled back arched up and away like a cat's. What the hell?! She'd never heard anything able to make a noise like that! Not the odd and echoing caves, not the tiniest frog with the loudest voice, not the weirdest bird nor the strangest insect—none of the weird noises of her world had ever been anything like. Where had the two-legs found this thing?!

It was resting there quietly now, the big thing and the little thing both, and so Nynka barely hesitated before bouncing back to examine it again, prepared this time for its weird and piping little voice to complain at her. The noisy one was tied to the larger thing by a long and thin snake of a tail still, she found as she turned it over once more—an umbilical cord! Ah-ha! Maybe this would get the big one to respond, and at least take a tiny peek from out of its impossible tough shell! Nynka darted her jaws down like a striking snake herself, and bit down hard on the little one. It had already grown part of its own impossible and gleaming shell, but obviously not enough of one as it squealed for its mother in its strange and tinny voice. BLEEP-EEP BLEEPITY BOOP BLAP-EEP!

Yet try as she might, biting down again and again upon the poor helpless creature, its mother remained as stonily impassive and unresponsive as ever. Nynka raised her head and gazed at it a long moment. Hm—maybe it was dead after all. Wait, no! She craned her head closer, her long neck contorting into an extended "S" as she peered more closely at the big one. There, on the side of its hard and shining shell, there was a small but insistent green light blinking up at her. Success! ... She hoped.

that was a challenge >O

Everything around the mountains had been getting so interesting lately.

If interesting meant more wolves fighting, that was. Satet sometimes got so bored of this she completely dismissed the incidents she stumbled upon from her memory. It was a very canine thing, she felt, to squabble over pack rankings and prey, and Satet was nothing if not thoroughly dismissive of those she considered to be little more than irritatingly wide-spread pests. At least squirrels and mice had the decency not to bother her when she had much more important things to do.

Important for Satet, however, meant basically anything. She'd been sprawled out on some thankfully snow-free rocks when it had happened; one of the giant silver birds that she'd watched flying over and ignoring her for the past month had smashed its metal wings on the mountain, apparently paying absolutely no attention to just where it was going, and had fallen to the earth screaming all the while. The noise it had made when it met the rocks was astounding, echoing so far up it almost shook the rock under her paws in a roar of orange fire.

She had smelled smoke before, but nothing like this -- a thick black plume of it that had the worst acrid tinge to it she could imagine, that stuck in her throat like partially-chewed meat -- if the meat had been sitting out for months and was so awful that not even a scavenger had bothered to go after it. She grumbled loudly and dramatically as she slid off her dry, warm perch and into the decidedly less dry and less warm snow, which nipped uncomfortably at her poor pawpads, but her winter coat was thick enough that even she would admit she was just complaining for complaining's sake. And she was very good at that.

She did not have to drag herself far down the mountain before she got eyes on the current situation, which was already beginning to crawl with wolves in the same way maggots might crawl over a carcass. A disgusted shudder rippled down her spine, but she kept padding on down, curious enough that she was willing to put up with the two or three there in the hopes that a good show of teeth and a scream might prove enough to scare them away. And if not, wolves couldn't jump, and she could be out of there in flash.

Further near the base the trees parted again, and this time Satet let out an audible, irritated sigh. Now it was crawling. What was that -- ten or eleven of the things? She spat a low, rumbly growl of irritation, and ignored them in favor of looking upon the wreck of the silver bird. Most of it was obscured by pouring smoke, but she did spy a couple of what looked to be its broken wings and bits of gleaming -- bone? Skin? She had no idea. In the midst of this, all but covered in snarling wolves who looked just about ready to pounce on each other over a dead bird-thing that probably tasted as bad as it smelled, was a single two-legged animal Satet did not recognize but which was presumably alive judging by its jerky movements.

Was this what they were fighting over, then? Satet rolled her eyes so hard that they kind of hurt, and refocused just in time to see the first strike actually made. As the group began to descend into eager, ridiculous battle, she turned her head, planning to walk on back up to her rock and maybe come back when the idiots present had finished their little squabble, but out of the corner of her eye she caught a little flash of motion. Sudden, unexpected. Her nose twitched and she peered closer, focusing enough to catch sight of a little white and brown ribbon of a creature watching the melee ensue as it darted through the grass.

It was hard to see very well; it did an admirable job of blending in, small as it was. At least, until it split off and dove into the grass, coming up with a big piece of something equal parts black and shiny that the silver bird had presumably shed upon contact with the ground. It was actually quite big, and Satet cocked her head as she watched the animal tug it free and drag it away from the canines with haste. A slow grin curved across her muzzle. She might not get too close to the wreck, but she was certain she could persuade whatever this was to let her get a look.

She watched as it exited into the trees, and took off at a brisk lope, allowing the sounds of the battle to fade behind her. It was easy to follow the tracks when the tracks were so conspicuous and smelled of horrible burning, and when the musk of fox came to try and cover it up the line pressed through the snow and scraggly branches was more than enough. She kept her movements languid and unhurried as she followed, looking not so much as bothered by the bare branches that whipped at her coat and tangled in her thick fur, and it wasn't long before she ended up in a little clearing, smiling sharply as she caught sight of the object.

The animal snuffling and poking at it was acknowledged and summarily disregarded. Weasels could be prickly, moreso than most of the other tiny things one found around this neck of the woods, but they were also, well, weasels, and while the disgust with which she dismissed wolves did not extend to them that did not mean she considered them much other than brief amusements or a snack. She slid forward, paws crunching in the soft snow, but she could not even hear her own noise over the sudden unnatural shrieking whatever the weasel had taken with it was starting to make.

She scrunched her head back and flattened her ears, a puzzled expression crossing her face; so preoccupied was she that she didn't even laugh at the weasel's leaping reaction. It snuffled forward again, and Satet uncurled and drifted further forward, ears flicking as the thing screamed again. This time she did not react besides a slight flinch of her ears -- it was a truly unpleasant sound, perhaps worse than anything a wolf could make, but only by a hair's breadth -- and drew level with the weasel that had brought it here.

She squinted down at the piece of the bird. It was shiny and silver in some places and matte black in others, and it blinked up at them with a strange flickering green eye. What it was meant to do completely escaped her, but she extended one big paw, with claws sheathed, to prod at it, wondering if it would make another of its odd shrieking sounds.

Trying this again, urgh. -.- Stupid threadedeleting tablet muttermutter
...RUH roh.  X)  That length wasn't meant to be a challenge, srsly! Hahaha. ...I get the feeling Satet and Nynka are going to start getting together over tea just to bitch over dem wolf bitches and dogs.  :P  (Quick, canines, jump in and avert such a kvetchily narrow-minded fate! lolz.  X)  )
After this post though in all seriousness I will probably hold off a few more days deliberately, to make sure anyone who was interested has good chances to also hop in, hopefully.  :)

Felines were interesting creatures, ones that Nynka had a healthy respect or at least wariness of, by and large— as much wariness as she could automatically hold for any creature, at any rate. She had dabbled in cat-watching before, from a healthy distance, and could even find a few things in their stealthy and self-sufficient hunting style worth emulating. ...Nynka had been too preoccupied with her new playthings to see this one following her, however, or perhaps this cat was just that sneaky.

But whatever innate admiration she might have held for such beasts wasn't about to make her share her toys gracefully right off the bat. Nynka darted a quick nip at the white, boldly prodding paw that emerged to take a poke at the larger shiny boxcritter. Trying to steal another creature's kill, now that was just rude! Ey there, that's MINE! she screeched indignantly, in a shrill tone that was arguably just as bad as that of the shiny baby boxmonster she had been chewing on. I found it, I brought it here, and you didn't do a thing, feline! Despite her continuing protests however Nynka had already dodged back a few dancing steps, and darted her head down to grab up the smaller box again, at the very least. Perhaps the puma would insist on claiming the larger, but Nynka could surely at least escape with this part of her "kill." It sullenly protested her treatment of it with another couple of BLEEP-EEPITY-EEPs before quieting down again. Nynka, for one, was decidedly not impressed by anything that made such an audible fuss but wouldn't so much as kick or squirm once to preserve its own hide, however. She ignored its noises, save to shoot a sidelong glance at its mother to see if Big Shiny was still awake and seeing this maltreatement of its child. Her tiny green eye winked tellingly back at Nynka, who was more than a little stumped. Surely by now one of them should have changed up their reactions, since obviously their first squeal-and-hide-and-hope-it-goes-away tactics were proving ineffective in deterring predators, and in fact only seemed to be attracting more hungry beasts with every passing minute...

Nynka was brought up short by the twang of the umbilical cord as it quickly hit its limit and threw her off her stride. She dropped the Little Squealer, however, as her train of thought was also halted in its course by a fresh notion that had occurred to her, one that made her look down upon the shiny pair of aliens with a sudden fresh respect. Had the little things actually called the big kitty with their cries, or perhaps even some sort of more arcane ability they were hiding under their shells? Nynka had heard some very strange tales of the twolegs and the bizarre monsters they often allied themselves with, but had always held a healthy skepticism of such stories. Now she grinned wide and hard, though: perhaps she could gather some better data and stories of her own with this! And perhaps if another puma came to the box's calls, to distract the first... There was surely only one way to find out. Nynka jumped on the little box once more, biting down hard another several times and making sure it yelled out some good and loud sequences, perhaps stupidly thinking that if its mother wouldn't help it perhaps some other random passing puma might have a softer heart. Hah! BLEEP-EEP BEEPBEEP BLEEEEEP BEEP OOP! Stupid Squealer.

'Ey, cat, have you ever seen anything like these before? she called out with her nose twitching mischievously. She noticed in passing the cougar's strange coloration, but found plenty of other things a lot more interesting at the moment. Although maybe the big kitties were finally figuring out the secrets of changing color with the seasons, like the noble weasel. Good for them. Nynka danced from side to side a little in impatience, though, mentally dismissing the matter in favor of wanting to make sure the all-important questions she had would finally get some answers, ASAP: You don't happen to know how to get inside this bigger beastie's shell, now, do you?

For emphasis, she leaned with idle malice one on the smaller one a little harder, eliciting another protesting BLEEP! from its form. Now that was a much shorter tantrum than before; perhaps the thing was finally closer to giving up entirely and giving the victorious weasel her ultimate reward. Nynka licked her lips gladly.