Wheeling Gull Isle port au prince, i want to catch a glimpse
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Ooc — KJ
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The ink-etched sheepdog was naturally a protective creature, and although marking territory borders wasn’t as intuitive for her as it was for others she knew, she did her best to keep the wolves she cared for and their worldly possessions safe and sound. She took particular pride in stocking the reserves with fresh fish and small game.

Today the afternoon sun seemed especially merciless. It beat heavily down upon her, soaking into her atramentous fur with ruthless malice, but she managed to flip a vibrant, pink-scaled snapper onto the sandy embankment despite her obvious discomfort. She watched it flop about with wide, kittenish eyes, calculating her leap with care. Sprightly legs sprang forth and she trapped the fish between her forelegs with practiced ease, snapping at it harmlessly a few times before her fangs found purchase just below her quarry’s gills. Triumphant, she bore it up with a fierce little growl of effort and stumbled inland.

Coelacanth’s graceful neck craned sharply, bowing beneath the heft of her prey and constricting her windpipe — the pinned back state of her tufted ears and the exaggeratedly short steps she was forced to take were reminiscent of a tightly reined carriage horse from the Victorian era. The inkdark filly emptied her lungs on a heavy whuff, and she angled her head slightly to ease some of the pressure from the tender muscles of her neck as she stumbled back the trench she’d dug in the ground some days ago. The food would be safe here, she believed, until @Komodo and @Axolotl decided on a more permanent settlement.

Ark! Ark!

A raucous, guttural barking stopped the tiny Groenendael in her path. A heavy, dark brown mass sat before her, one of the large fish she’d caught with @Maera disappearing down his throat even as she watched. Without pause, he grabbed another one and knocked it back like a college boy doing shots at a fraternity party. The oddly prominent crest upon his skull marked the beast as a male sea lion — and Seelie knew that she was fortunate it was a California bull and not one of the lighter-furred, more massive Stellar bulls that she faced.

Still…her hackles stiffened and her shoulders squared as she flung a volley of airy, toneless “barks” at the pinniped. Wary of him, and of her grandmother’s warning that these creatures were not to be harmed, Seelie darted in and nipped at his tail before running away. He loosed an enraged bellow, but he wasn’t angry enough to follow her away from the cache.
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port au prince, i want to catch a glimpse - by Coelacanth - June 30, 2017, 04:15 PM