Bramblepoint caught herself a somewhere wind

All welcome, just trying to dust off the cobwebs here. Please be patient with me as I get back into the swing of things! I haven't written here in a few years and I'm definitely rusty. Up to the next poster what Alivia has run into.

 

She'd clearly taken a wrong turn somewhere. She supposed she should have been used to it by now. 

Alivia pulled against the vine that had caught her hind leg, expecting to feel it snap as she increased pressure. Instead, she felt thorns bite down painfully. She yelped softly in surprise, twisting her neck to bite frantically at her restraint. 

She growled, bit and tugged, becoming more panicked the longer she was trapped. With one final enormous heave, the vine snapped, and Alivia stumbled forward, connecting solidly with something large and oddly soft.

 

she's pretty, but that doesn't necessarily compel soto to help her. how she managed to get so snared in vines is a marvel, but by the time the tiny voice some would call a conscience tells him to get down there, she's broken free.

colliding right into him.

he steps away, giving her a moment to recover her composure. his single eye glints in humor that does not quite reach his face.

finders keepers! <3

"Whoa!" she barked with no composure whatsoever, reeling just as much from the man's thin-air appearance as she was from the collision itself. Startling as it was, his convenient placement had saved her from falling flat on her face. 

"Sorry," she apologized, although he didn't seem ruffled in the least. He was so solid, the hit had barely shifted him. 

As he took a step back, she noticed the eye-- or lack thereof-- and tilted her head in interest. Belatedly, she realized she was staring, and she shifted her gaze away. She took in a deep breath, slowly settling back into her skin after so embarrassingly jumping out of it.

He smelled like others. A pack, maybe? Could it be Mereo? Her birth pack was full of scarred-up, muscly types like this guy. Or so she'd been told.

i lold at her <3

a loud bark springs from her mouth; whoa!

he knows enough of the local dialect to understand sorry meant desculpa. no te preocupes.

she stares, he stares. he takes the opportunity to notice her pelt speaks nothing of other kin. she's not quite as young as the twins he found in the flatlands, but she's equally as skinny.

he flicks an ear as she looks away and inhales deeply.

te hambres?

Alivia was so distracted by the scar, she hadn't quite caught his words. "..Huh?"  At least he didn't seem offended.

He spoke again, his tone questioning, and the unusual lilt of the foreign tongue finally registered. "Oh, um.." 

She glanced around, as if something in their surroundings would assist her translation. "..Alivia Redsand," she answered, taking a stab in the dark as to what he'd asked her. "Livi." She gave a little wave of her tail and looked to him expectantly. 

"Are you a soldier? Do you know Mereo?" 

not the first time a wolf here doesn't know the real language of the desert. soto hides his irritation with a practiced smile.

she glances around. has he unsettled her? it's the eye, isn't it -- soto learned to get around fine, but at times he forgets its often his most defining feature.

he can only make out part of what she says. he recognizes soldier and nothing else. glancing her over, it's soto's opinion she doesn't much look like a soldier... unless, she was asking him.

no. and then he connects she must have said her name, though he doesn't understand it. tienes hambre, he scoops his paw to his mouth and pantomimes eating, nudging his muzzle her way.

Rather proud of her Redsand name and her desert roots, Alivia would have withered in shame had she known the poor impression her ignorance had made for her. As it was though, she was wholly oblivious to the man's surly inner thoughts, fooled by the good-natured smile he'd plastered on. 

She smiled back, although her expression faltered slightly at his definitive no.  

He repeated the thing about the om-bray. She stared blankly. Finally the gesture came, and she lit up with understanding. 

"Oh, yeah! Now we're talking. Yes, let's om-bray. Eat. Ahhm-bray."  

In the back of her mind, a tale from her childhood nagged at her. In the story, two little pups were lured away from safety by the promise of sweets, and they were nearly devoured by a cannibal witch. Nearly being the operative word, she reasoned with herself, stuffing her doubts down. She couldn't fill her stomach with fear and fairy tales.

his reticence earns the falter of her sunny smile. soto made note to be softer.

with the twins, one had been grievously wounded. it made certain things easier.

her blank look transforms to something brighter than the expression she held before. and in truth, what wolf didn't like to eat?

a grin dogs his scarred muzzle. bien.

soto turns his back towards her. it's a show of faith as much as a show of supreme confidence.

he begins searching for game trails along the earth.

Alivia may have never known that his earlier for smiles were just for show, had she not seen true satisfaction cross his features briefly before he turned away. 

She trailed after him for a few steps, until she realized that he was not, in fact, leading her to a fresh kill (a girl could dream, right?) but was starting a new hunt all the way at the beginning. 

Alivia chuffed to gain his attention. She tossed her muzzle in the universal "that-a-way" signal and trotted back the way she had just come, careful to step over the wily vine that had originally ensnared her. 

She approached the rotting stump of a long-ago fallen tree, switching her tail in concentration and sniffing at a couple of cloven hoofprints in the earth at the base of the stump. Several grubs were visible wiggling beneath the surface of the bark, the easy meal being what had most likely attracted the grazer. 

There were also the pawprints and scratchings of a larger, canine forager, who had indulged even more recently than the ungulate. But Alivia wouldn't know anything about that, no sir. Nothing at all. No self-respecting wolf ate grubs...

She turned her attention back to the hoofprints for a final sniff and then stepped back, looking up expectantly.

confident in his ability to rouse game from hiding, soto pauses at the she-wolf's chuff. turning around, he saw her jerk her muzzle in a universal gesture. piqued by this, soto follows in interest.

taking the same care as she to avoid the snaring vine, soto's black muzzle lowers to the earth alongside hers. the rank scent of rotting stump takes most of his attention, but he sees cloven tracks -- and one or two quickly fleeing grubs.

a faintest whiff of her scent lingers here, but soto thinks nothing of it - assuming she'd likely inspected this place before her unfortunate encounter with jungle vines; certainly, not to imbibe on the rich filth of beetle larvae.

he meets her expectant gaze, then looks out where the tracks disappear into the foliage.

vamos, slinking into an economic trot, soto trails after the meandering tracks of deer.

Vamos. That must mean deer. 

Alivia trailed behind the man. She did her best to keep up with the pace he set while also moving quietly, which was not an easy feat. She marveled at how easily the man tracked and navigated through the shadowy, dense undergrowth with just the one eye. Alivia, who was born with four left paws, had to direct all of her concentration towards the ground beneath her just to stay upright. It would be so like her to trip over something and scare away all of the prey. 

Their path eventually met up with a game trail which was easier for Alivia to traverse. She was finally able to look around a little, and she noticed that the tree growth had thinned somewhat. A short distance away, she could hear the trickle of a creek. She suspected that they may be nearing their prize.

  i am SO sorry for the wait!! <33 life got wildin'

blissfully unaware he's misunderstood, soto forges ahead.

they come to a creek limned with bobbing reeds, their stalks pale from winter's teeth. soto halts and listens, single eye squinting in concentration.

splashwater across the creek draws his attention. he looks to his comrade to ensure she'd heard it too, before he slinks into a crouch.

they must avoid water until the last moment. soto steps with care, each paw raising just enough, before placed gently upon the damp loam.

another splatter; soto ducks, belly low to the ground.

waiting.

waiting.

when he lunges, it's not deer that meet him on the other side -- but the great antlers of a bull moose.

definitely no complaints here, I'm always in the slow lane myself.

There was audible splashing in the creek, and both predators dropped into their respective hunting crouches. Traveling close behind her companion-- practically in his pawprints-- Alivia couldn't see much of anything. She figured that the lead hunter had located the unlucky vamos when he ducked his head low, preparing for the pounce. Alivia froze, muscles trembling, ready to propel her forward as soon as the man deemed it appropriate. 

She lunged a fraction of a second after he did, only to come face-to-face with an enormous rack of antlers swinging their direction. She yelped in surprise, backpedaling as fast as she could. What the hell? This was most definitely NOT a tasty little vamos. Hadn't the man ever heard of "look before you leap?!" Must not be a thing in whatever language he spoke. 

The moose stumbled then, as if its rack of antlers was too heavy for it to control. Bringing its head back to center, it took a step to square itself toward the predators and stumbled again. ..Was it sick or something? It's mouth, neck and chest were soaked, as if it had been here drinking for a long time. 

Fight or flee? Alivia would follow her companion's lead.

he springs back just like alivia, narrowly missing having his head relocated to another zipcode by the moose's swinging horns.

glancing towards his companion, soto attempts to read her expression. was this a challenge for her, or was it too much? he himself had never brought down a moose, and the sheer enormity of the creature had him realizing he was quite small.

the deer of the plains never grew this big.

he flinches as the moose stumbles, giving it a wide berth. once recovered from being startled, soto realizes what alivia sees: the moose's fur is matted, and its gait uncoordinated. he sniffs the damp air but detects no recognizable scent; only a faint heat to the moose's musk.

soto has always been cautious. he steps back, nudging the shoulder of his hunting companion but unable to take his gaze from the moose. once enough distance has been put between them, soto moves off into a lope further down the creek.

long ago, he'd learned the merits of avoiding eating sickly meat.

Flee. He chose to flee, thank goodness. It was what Alivia had hoped he would choose. 

He nudged her away from the teetering moose, and she didn't have to be told twice. The pair hustled off upriver, and Alivia tossed a look over her shoulder every now and then, just to check that the beast was staying put. She didn't need any more surprises. 

They followed a bend in the creek, and the moose dropped out of view. Alivia turned her full attention back to her companion. Was he still trying to hunt? Or had he given up? She felt certain that they had probably lost the vamos trail they were following before in their haste to escape. "So.. no vamos, then?" she asked a little woefully.

it would wound soto's pride to know alivia believed they fled; he would use noble language such as 'discretion is the better part of valor'. you know, better to avoid this one and die another day kind of thing.

his lope slows as they round the bend and the moose fades from view and audible detection. soto's ear flicks as she speaks, understanding no vamos to mean -- what, she didn't want to go?

he switches gait abruptly, wheeling to look at her face in full. was she seriously suggesting they go back to the moose? a dart of pink tongue slides across his teeth as he considers this, gaze flicking towards where they'd seen the moose last.

es peligroso. he warns, deciding she can hunt it if she wants, but he'd have no part of it. in a different life he'd come across a sickening scent like that before, though the memory filled him with a strange species of shame. a wolf -- his age or perhaps a little younger -- had come to a cenote to drink. he recalled the horror that chilled his blood to watch as the wolf supped and supped again, yet could not force the water past his teeth. 

soto had turned and ran; fled, if you will. and that was exactly why he was here today, standing handsomely before alivia. come. the word is rough on his tongue as he moves off in a trot to search for something less diseased to sink his teeth into.

He immediately whirled to face her when she asked her question. Alivia fixed him with a look of good-natured confusion, tail switching expectantly. 

"Es peligroso," he said, his one eye flicking back downriver. 

"Oh yeah," Alivia agreed wholeheartedly. "That moose was majorly gross-o. I wonder what was wrong it it." 

He turned from her and finally emitted a word she recognized. "Come."

"Sure thing, Boss," she murmured. As she trailed behind him, her stomach rumbled audibly.

lol

soto's ear turns back as amalia clips in words he barely knows - but he assumes 'grosso' means the same thing as danger, and so nods pleased that she agrees. of course, the possibility of him being wrong is not a consideration.

grumbling behind him announces she's very hungry, which presses soto even more to find food. he's not an altruist, but he is a chauvinist -- feeding her might earn him some measure of excitement at a later time.

at the foot of a battered oak, soto detects small traces of scent. turkey. stalking around the tree, he finds a mount of pale excrement that announces longstanding presence here.

it's then he looks up, and sees an equally ancient tom gripping the spread limbs of the tree, beady eyes peering right back at the pair of unwelcome predators at his doorstep.

Their search led them to the base of a tired-looking old tree, and Alivia's hunting partner began sniffing around, clearly interested. Alivia joined in, and her enthusiasm redoubled once she saw what he saw: evidence of prey nearby. She didn't think to look up into the branches of the tree until he did, and her eyes landed on the bird a moment after his. 

She reared up energetically, placing her forepaws on the truck of the weathered oak. How were they supposed to get that thing down? She whined in frustration.

fueled by his hunting partner’s interest, soto paces back and forth. as she jumps, he circles, all the while starting and the tom who was a little too uncomfortable with their presence. 

lashing his tail, soto rears on his hind legs — but the bird is well out of his reach. 

he circles again and lunges for the tree, attempting an almost comical, too terrestrial attempt at canid parkour. 

his teeth snap as he sails through the air, missing his mark. but the bird is just unsettled enough it begins to cluck, wizened talons wrapped tight around the branch that now meant the difference between it rightfully existing among the living or becoming dinner.

Alivia was pretty worked up now, all the more wound up by her hunting partner's circling. A flash of something crossed his expression, and Alivia backed up quickly, sensing that he was about to do something. He lunged for the tree and clawed his way upward, eliciting an encouraging yip from Alivia. She could definitely see what he'd been attempting, but he had just a little too much mass to pull it off effectively. Perhaps Alivia would be more successful. 

It was her turn to leap up the length of the tree, claws scrabbling furiously against the bark. Her nose bashed against the limb they were targeting. She fell to the ground heavily, whining and shaking her throbbing muzzle. 

Deeply perturbed by its swaying perch, the turkey let out an angry yodel. It beat its wings several times to resettle itself. 

Rubbing her nose with a paw, Alivia looked thoughtfully between her fellow hunter and the limb above. 

"I have an idea. Lean down like this." She dropped the front of her body into a play-bow to demonstrate. Then she stood again and looked expectantly at him, pointing with her paw to indicate that he should position himself below the limb. 

Would he go along with her crazy plan? Most wolves would take issue with being used as a springboard.

Calling Soto fat, are we?

he lands without ceremony, his partner’s encouraging yip reverberating in his ears. no luck; he’s too dang muscular (read: fat). as he searches around them for an answer to their quandary, his hunting partner does something extraordinary — she’s far more limber and petite as she scales up the tree, but it ends with her nose bashing the branch above. 

he shares a brief look (sympathy?  bemusement? who can tell - the man’s got only one eye) before turning back to the flapping bird above. 

his ear turns as he hears his partner say something. was she play bowing? now was not the time for play — soto’s expression scrunches up, until he realizes. 

while he’d prefer it was he climbing atop of her, he obliges. positioning himself just adjacent the tree and their quarry, soto braces for impact.

Alivia nodded enthusiastically when he leaned down. He seemed to have the gist of her ridiculous plan. 

She would need a running start. Wincing sympathetically at her hunting partner, she readied herself for the charge. This would not be comfortable for him.

Two paces, and she leapt. She had never been particularly lissome, but what she lacked in grace she made up for in enthusiasm. Her forepaws planted firmly on the man's raised back, to be swiftly replaced by her hind paws as she sprung upwards with everything she had. The nails of her hind paws dug unforgivingly into the man's pelt. 

She managed not quite enough clearance to reach the turkey, but she did get her jaws around the limb. Gravity took hold of her, and her weight pulled the entire limb downward. The limb ripped painfully out of her jaws, springing back upward as she fell back down to the ground heavily.

The disturbance in the limb was enough to jolt the turkey from its perch, and it entered the air, flapping frantically.

this would have been comical, if it didn't hurt so fucking much. soto barely stops the grunt of pain from escaping his manly lips as his hunting partner's claws do their own version of a spinal tap. 

he winces as her weight shoves off; he's not about to call her fat, but having a wolf's full weight boring into your spine carries a whole different meaning. soto's eye tracks her hopefully, a grin splitting his features as she seizes tree limb and for one absurdly comical moment is hung there in the air --

the limb groans and then suddenly shoots skyward, wolf falling to the ground and turkey catapulting through the air in a blast of feathers.

soto rips the earth as he bolts after it. the turkey's trajectory brings it noisily downward, gravity enforcing its inexorable pull. just as the bird's feet spread out to land soto leaps into the air behind it, colliding broadside with the tom's body and sending it alivia's way like a feathery volleyball.

There was no time to nurse her throbbing jaw; the turkey was suddenly hurling in Alivia's direction. She reached out and latched onto anything she could grip, which just so happened to be the tail. Clenching her already aching jaw brought tears to her eyes, but she held on determinedly, even as the turkey began beating her face with its frantically flapping wings. 

In her frustration, Alivia reared up and slammed the turkey down onto the ground. The force was more than her poor jaw could handle, and the bird tumbled out of her grasp. She stumbled forward as if to chase after it, but her vision was blurred by her tears of pain. She blinked and shook her head furiously, trying to orient herself.