this trojan horse

For @Silvermane .

If not for the fact that Nefarious needed to venture out in search of medicinal ...and poisonous plants for his private stores he probably wouldn't have really strayed from Swiftcurrent Creek. The shaman wasn't nomadic by any sort of nature, instead favoring the company of those within his pack as opposed to those who lived on the outside or belonged to other packs. Sure, Nefarious could be charismatic with them as the situation called for it, but by a rule of principle he tended to be condescending, which tended to leave a bad first impression, admittedly. There was a reason why he hadn't been ideal for the diplomatic leader position in Akkuma, why instead he, would he have stayed, ended up becoming the Angakkuq, or spiritual leader instead, not unlike how the Amazon women led: with two Queens, one that handled diplomatic situations and one that handled war. Nefarious was okay with traveling out of pack lands, so long as he was accompanied by another pack mate, or the day was to remain solitary.

Regardless of his reservations of leaving the Creek, the shaman had set out early in the morning, before the rise of the sun in his seemingly endless hunt for indigenous plants that were familiar to him. Thus far, it was proving to be harder than he'd first imagined, but still he kept looking. He was determined to earn the Healer trade so he could once again resume his true calling. It was hard to consider himself a shaman when his private stores were so pitiful. No respectable shaman ever had a cache so small and barren. Nefarious would never place Sos or Atka on the proverbial back burner, though he'd been taking time to get to know his pack mates some instead of jumping right into the boat of anti-socialness and rooting around for what it was he needed in his stores.

Gaining knowledge of one's pack mates was a clever tactic, and would, the Kesuk had little doubt, prove to be useful — for many reasons more than being social though that was a big part of it. His hunt had taken him closer to a pack's lands than he had initially intended to go, and steps paused until he came to a complete stop away from the borders. He was more than an adequate distance away from them, yet even so in the cloudy recesses of the early morning, the rising sun struggling to break through the obscurity of thick, monotone clouds that threatened to block it out entirely, he was weary and the hackles along the back of his spine bristled and prickled with instinctual unease. Claws scraped at the ground of a holly bush. It's berries and leaves were known to be toxic, causing anything from diarrhea, nausea, vomiting, stomach and intestinal issues which was, thankfully indigenous to both Seahawk and Teekon. It wasn't much but it was a small start to his cache of poisonous plants, at the very least, and a start was better than nothing, ultimately.

Is it ok if I use this thread for my Naturalist trade?

Silvermane had been spending alot of the day cleaning the bands of seaweed wrapped around his leg, which had been again covered in web. Sometime soon he had to get more of it, but obviously he could'nt go himself. He tried pushing forward, onto his leg, and then back, there was not as much pain as before, but still, there was some. He slowly limped forward, out of his den, recently organized - and hidden - so that none of the other packmates might find it, and either use it, or throw it away. He made his way forward, his front leg aloft from the ground, and every few steps, he had to place it back down. Frustrating. he thought, and decided to get something off his mind, he would search for a final ingredient to his concoction, which had included Cinnamon, Crushed nutmeg, Boiled Ginseng - which he had been preparing at the Firestone springs in his last visit - and finally, if he was lucky enough to find some, some psilocybe mushrooms, or "Sacred Mushrooms" on Silvermanes part, since they were fairly rare.

On his way out, he had been bringing some recent Nutmegs in his own mouth, so he could head, slowly, to the arrow falls, a most relaxing place, and there, he would possibly get high off of his own resources. Silvermane could file this activity in his schedule as "Practicing Medicine". Silvermane could not wait until he would be able to skilled enough to earn the proper trade of a Naturalist, so that if he was good enough, he could bring scouts to carry the amounts of goods. Perhaps, he may even start a silk road, of medicine, hallucinogenics, and food. A smart idea, he thought, this would surely allow him to create a sort of sleigh, where the packmates would carry the hunch, and he would have total control. This pack could supply others, but be paid for it in anything. Of course, if he even became a naturalist, or if his Alpha even cared for this solution. If they followed his plan, he could make sure the pack would easily endure through even the harshest winters.

Silvermane had recently limped out of his way from the center of Noctisardor bypass, his leg stiffening with dull pain whenever he set it down, but it was feeling much better than when the lunatic broke it, but as he took a break, right at the border, he saw a cocoa-colored wolf, scraping with his paws into a holly bush, "Hey!" he tried to shout, with the Nutmeg still inbetween his jaws, but he quickly set them down "The heck are you doing?!" he called, that was technically still in range of Noctisardor Territory, and this mutt was vandalizing it. Silvermane picked the nuts back up, and started to walk as quickly as possible without hurting himself towards the strange wolf.

I don't mind since I plan to use it as a healer thread since he's likely to learn about indigenous plants a bit. :p

It was a delicate manner, extracting the holly bush without ingesting it's leaves, or berries, which meant that he would have to take it from the root. Handling poisonous things with the only thing he could: his teeth, he had built up a tolerance to his saliva touching them and tried not to swallow too much. Sometimes his claws were useful too, but more often than not it was easier to gently pluck the things he needed with his teeth. In the long run, though, if Sos and Atka desired the shaman's death then they would take it, no matter if he had built up a tolerance or avoided swallowing and instead ran around drooling (or rinsing with water) or whatever else. Most of the time the poisonous ones were only poisonous in the leaves or berries and the plant itself could be extracted and transported by the roots of it. This was the case currently: he would find a way to sort out the leaves and berries once he got it back to Swiftcurrent Creek. Or perhaps he'd simply attempt to replant near his den so that he would have a supply at all times without having to continue to go out and search for more holly.

Nefarious had been focused upon his task, on the careful digging around the plant's roots that he hadn't noticed when a wolf from the pack whose borders he was lingering ...relatively close too, approached the scene. There was a muffled noise that grasped the shaman's attention. Head rose, having been previously bent, hackles bristling with unease, lip curling back slightly towards the free territory he faced, before Nefarious replaced the snarled lip with a neutral expression as he turned to face the male, pumpkin orange eyes impassive. As far as Nefarious was ultimately concerned he was not trespassing, and neither was the holly bush he wanted so thus he saw that he was doing no wrong. “Digging up this holly bush for my private stores,” Nefarious spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, which, it kind of was.

Digging up this Holly Bush for my personal stores Stores? he laughed, Why would you use our plants for your stores? he huffed, this Wolf didnt seem bad, Silvermane just wanted to make sure that no harm would come, Anyway, why would you try to dig up a Holly bush? Its poisonous, you do Not want to find out the bad way, he said, this Wolf could not possibly want something like that... Right? Silvermane slowly made forward Even if you arent stupid enough to know that, they arent good for christmas decorations in the pack too, all the idiots and cubs try to eat them he pointed out, slowly making his way over, the front leg limping slightly, he stumbled softly forward, and looked at the bush

If you plan on killing yourself, fine he shrugged would you like me to help with that? he pointed, if he wanted to kill off his own pack, thats ok with Silvermane, he had no reason to dwell in their affairs. Silvermane looked at the wolf, quickly scanning his body, his build, and any distinquishable features, but, nothing seemed obnoxiously wrong with him, and he sounded like he was smarter than most idiots, so what would he want with a plant containing toxins?

A brow rose into a wicked arch over his eye, assessing the other male with judgment when the pack wolf repeated the word with a laugh that sounded condescending to the shaman. Pupils narrowed in their pools of fierce, pumpkin orange as Nefarious studied the clearly injured male with an apathetic sweep of his gaze. Clearly, this wolf was of no real threat to him, lest he desired to end up with more than a broken leg. Nefarious wasn't a huge fan of physical confrontation, preferring the battle of wits and words, and if he was felt it was necessary adding a curse or two in there during the process. Nefarious glimpsed, for a split second, away from the other male to the holly bush and then back once more. Their plant? Nefarious assumed that the 'their' was referencing to the pack whose borders that Silvermane stood behind, and that 'our lands' meant that he included the free territory that Nefarious knew he was standing on as apart of the pack. Whatever pack it was.

As it stood, Nefarious didn't really give a much of a care to if he was “stealing” from another pack or not. His concern lay within Swiftcurrent Creek and the pack's members (and his own interests of course) not with another pack that, truthfully, if they were gone would be one less crowding this valley. Nefarious' loyalty was sworn with Scimitar and his Creek, not anywhere else and so, logically, he couldn't care less if he was lessening the chances of this pack's survival by taking one little holly bush. “Well first, you might wish to learn where your borders are, seeing as how I'm more than an adequate distance away from them. Secondly, this bush isn't in your territory and therefore doesn't belong to you, and frankly if you want it so bad you would have uprooted it and planted it back inside your pack lands; and thirdly even so I wouldn't care even if it did belong to you. I have no loyalty to your pack and cannot be expected to care.” Nefarious told the male with an errant shrug of his shoulders. Whether Nefarious' response angered the other or it didn't, the shaman couldn't, further, care about that either.

A iniquitous smile tugged at the edges of Nefarious' lips as the male then went on to lecture him about holly bushes and that they were poisonous. Granted, the other male couldn't know that it was for that reason exactly that Nefarious wanted it so badly, or that Nefarious was extremely well informed on it's properties. After all, they were complete strangers. It was both irritating and amusing: being lectured about something that Nefarious knew full well. “I am well aware of it's properties. Why I am collecting it is really none of your business, but it's not for it's decorative uses that I want it,” Which left only the poisonous properties. “Besides, the roots are harmless. It's only the leaves and berries that are toxic.” Hence, why Nefarious was digging it up in the first place. If he wasn't concerned about suffering from the effects of it he would have just plucked off the leaves and berries and been done with it. It would have been a time saver.

“You realize how many leaves and berries you would have to ingest for it to actually kill you? Mostly, it is known to induce vomiting and diarrhea. Although eating twenty berries could be fatal to children, but this won't be where any children can get to it.” Nefarious did not bother to mention that, currently, Swiftcurrent Creek had no children, though a heavily pregnant Paarthurnax quickly flashed through his mind and lingered there, unbidden, at the fore-front of his thoughts for a few moments longer than was necessary before he chased those thoughts away, unaware that he was at the cusp of the pack she had left for the Creek, and that the father of her children reigned here. Nevertheless, Nefarious did not know her story, and figured that if it was something she wished to tell then she would tell him.

So sorry for the HUGE delay and TINY post, I had musical auditons

Alright, Alright, Im sorry. he said, this guy was too much bark, and he just wanted to find out about this mysterious dude now. The territory thing could wait for later. He quickly rolled with one paw one of the Nutmegs, and he looked at the dude, wondering if he knew, or not. His eyes rolling as the wolf refused to care.

Duh, he said, Silvermane was not born yesterday, and he wasnt going to try and act like it. Instead of arguing, Silvermane had just looked down at the plant, and wondered, this dude is trying to poison someone, surely. Yknow, would'nt it be easier to cover your muzzle with a leaf, and then you could pluck the berries off lick you would with a regular berry bush, it usually doesnt break, just down crush the berries in your mouth. he said.

Huh, I never really tried. he said, abit sarcastically, but still genuinely interested in the wolf's knowledge, of course, it only added to the suspicion that the wolf wanted to poison someone, and Silvermane decided, if he did, it would atleast be a better way. Yknow, if you wanted to poison someone, it would be alot easier with some Deadly Nightshade, and you could hide it in someones meal, they would not really notice, it's smell isnt very powerful, and it can be easily covered up with salt, or a mushroom, which they would suspect as a gift.

There was something deeply satisfying about watching the ivory male back down and apologize, and the shaman just barely accepted it with a soft sneer. There were some learned qualities that he had picked up from Suluk that he was not overly proud of like his tendency to become possessive over objects and even other wolves, and while Nefarious would easily claim that he was much more subtle than his War Lord father he was glad that he had caught onto the ability to use his knowledge and words to his utter advantage. The shaman was in no mood to quarry — all he wanted was this plant and then he would leave them be, though in reality his presence a good distance away from their borders wasn't what Nefarious would have considered to be an inconvenience to them and even if it was: oh well. The other male responded with a duh, as if he had already known all of that, and though Nefarious was suspicious of it he let it go because it wasn't worth arguing with him about.

Things had settled down until the other proceeded to give him advice that the shaman had not asked for. Nefarious inhaled deeply and let it out in an equally as heavy sigh. “I want the whole plant.” The shaman spoke sharply, hoping to give off the impression that the other's advice wasn't wanted or needed. Nefarious knew what he was doing. Besides, if he took the whole plant he would be able to re-stock without having to go looking for more holly bushes again. Nefarious did not like being too far away from Swiftcurrent Creek, unless his search for plants drew him away from it. Anything that he could keep close on hand, the better.

Again, the other male seemed determined to tell Nefarious how to do things, and the shaman's gaze swept sharply towards the Bypass man. “I do not seek to kill anyone,” Yet, he added mentally. “And even if I did I don't appreciate you proceeding to tell me how to do things.” Nefarious was not sure how else he was to say that he didn't need advice, that he'd been working with medicines and poisons since he was old enough to learn about them. “I have been learning about such things since I was a small child.” Perhaps it was testosterone, or pride but Nefarious was not keen on being told what to do when it came to a craft that he coveted as closely as he did his true name.

◆Gonna help you out, T. W_^V pping SM for sake of abscence◆



The golden hippie knew he had to go back and see his previous patient, the one he'd helped on the sandy shores of the Beach.
Idly as he trotted through the thinning trees, if the boulder sized dude managed to change the seaweed bindings he had installed on him.

As long as it had taken for him to attempt a heal on a dude, he better have taken care of himself.
Better not be dead, damnit.

Finally the hippie made it to the sandy grounds,and ununsurprisingly the snow dude was still there, but Ash was happy to see he had atleast got up, and moved around. However, there was another bro nearby, and the Doctor barked a greeting to the both of em.

"Sup there, bromigo? You got a brashin that needs smashin, too? Happy ta help in any way I can, man,"

And once the golden teen caught up to the company, he offered a paw bump to the pale dude, who returned it with flying colors. The switching paws, he offered it to the dark and mildy angry lookin dude, hoping to brighten up his mood.

"Names Ashton. Or just Ash. Im assuming ya met my patient, SilverMane, here. Had ta dutch up his leg there, not too long ago. Took it like a champ."

He tossed a nod of acceptance to the artic dude, then returned back to the one he hadn't met yet.

"So what's flyin, cool cat?"