for @Draven
after patrolling ironclan’s actual borders, it’s hale saltking diverts his attention then to the sentinels; a chimera of a territory. partly burnt and partially full of vibrant, new life. or, hibernating new life with the change of the season. the parts of the forest that still bear the scars of the fire that unknowingly nearly killed his mother does not seem to deter the rutting deer and wintersbane is glad for it. he keeps a keen eye on the small herds that seem to grow. there is one in particular he watches: it started with one buck and a doe and has since accumulated three more doe.
how many more would the stag draw into his little ungulate harem?
partially, wintersbane keeps an eye on them for the amusement of it; mostly, he is keen on the meat that they will provide his wolves in the months to come. it’s the stag’s trail he follows now, leisurely, tracking rather than hunting today.
word count: 162
November 05, 2020, 09:29 AM
(This post was last modified: November 05, 2020, 02:08 PM by Draven.)
Draven had departed from the Heartwood and headed North-West, following the subtle but unmistakable scent of salt and sea that had drifted to him on the autumn breeze. The young male had been keen to avoid wasting time traversing the mountain range or navigating his way around the quarry, and so had chosen to take the more forgiving path which snaked its way through a deep forest. He had not known, however, that Neverwinter forest was claimed territory, and by the time he had realised too much progress had been made to turn back and plan another route.
He had cautiously snuck his way along the very fringes of the territory and luckily made it to the other side, escaping with only a bite to his ankle. Seeking the safety of tree cover once more, Draven now wandered through yet another unfamiliar woodland. This one too had been scorched by flame, much like the Heartwood, and the young male found his mind playing tricks on him as he trailed through the maze of fallen deadwood and ash. If it were not for the more pungent scent of the sea, Draven might have believed himself to have travelled full circle back to where had started.
Snapping him from his thoughts, a large stag suddenly stepped out through the trees ahead of him, causing a piece of bark to crack underhoof. Startled, the ungulate lifted its head, only to spot his shadowy figure eyeing it from a distance. The stag fled as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Draven alert and on edge.
He had cautiously snuck his way along the very fringes of the territory and luckily made it to the other side, escaping with only a bite to his ankle. Seeking the safety of tree cover once more, Draven now wandered through yet another unfamiliar woodland. This one too had been scorched by flame, much like the Heartwood, and the young male found his mind playing tricks on him as he trailed through the maze of fallen deadwood and ash. If it were not for the more pungent scent of the sea, Draven might have believed himself to have travelled full circle back to where had started.
Snapping him from his thoughts, a large stag suddenly stepped out through the trees ahead of him, causing a piece of bark to crack underhoof. Startled, the ungulate lifted its head, only to spot his shadowy figure eyeing it from a distance. The stag fled as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Draven alert and on edge.
November 05, 2020, 10:48 AM
wintersbane reaches near the stag’s location, polar gaze trailing over the three doe grazing in the nearby meadow of tall and dying grasses as he slows, crouching in the bed of browning heather grasses to study them, peering over the soft sway in search of the stag. it’s scent is strong here; a heavy musk that tells the tundrian it cannot not be too far.
indeed, it’s not. a low growl rumbles in his throat as, spooked, the stag comes tearing out of a thicket of trees — some untouched by the fires — towards the doe who take off after him, deeper into the sentinel’s heartlands. his head snaps in the direction the stag had come barreling out of and prowls in that direction.
he lets out a bark in an effort to garner the attention of the shadow pelaged wolf lurking across the way. there was no use in being discreet now, now that the herd was aware that they were being stalked by not just one but two predators. nevertheless, wintersbane cannot help the building possessiveness brewing beneath his skin. he would not have strangers traipsing thru the sentinels spooking, nor chasing off his herds.
nevertheless, wintersbane knows he’ll have to avoid the area and lay low for a while until the stag rebuilds his assurance that he and his doe were still safe there... else he'll have to track them to their new spot in the sentinels. it was easier to keep track of them when they stayed in one specific area, easier yet to map out how best to hunt them, too when that time came.
indeed, it’s not. a low growl rumbles in his throat as, spooked, the stag comes tearing out of a thicket of trees — some untouched by the fires — towards the doe who take off after him, deeper into the sentinel’s heartlands. his head snaps in the direction the stag had come barreling out of and prowls in that direction.
he lets out a bark in an effort to garner the attention of the shadow pelaged wolf lurking across the way. there was no use in being discreet now, now that the herd was aware that they were being stalked by not just one but two predators. nevertheless, wintersbane cannot help the building possessiveness brewing beneath his skin. he would not have strangers traipsing thru the sentinels spooking, nor chasing off his herds.
nevertheless, wintersbane knows he’ll have to avoid the area and lay low for a while until the stag rebuilds his assurance that he and his doe were still safe there... else he'll have to track them to their new spot in the sentinels. it was easier to keep track of them when they stayed in one specific area, easier yet to map out how best to hunt them, too when that time came.
word count: 271
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