Redsand Canyon *This Thread Topic BLEEPED OUT For Your Safety*

Nynka hauled the small metal box up to the top of an only slightly tippy flat red rock. Like toppings on ice cream in reverse, the numerous red spires carried a frosty layer of snowflakes and ice that muted their usual strange rusty hues. The weasel hadn't spent much time here, but thought it might be a good place to try carrying the whatchacallit with her today. Nynka had noticed the small strange device she'd acquired seemed to feed on sunlight, growing faint and despondent when it went too long without absorbing its regular doses of Vitamin D; while she would have preferred to keep the thing secluded more safely underground, given its shrill demands it was a lot better if it got to go on regular field trips (else it would never be any fun at all, really). Sadistic though Nynka might sometimes be she didn't want her little toy to die. Especially since it seemed like it would make such a wastefully unpromising meal.

Having breakfasted on an unwary vole, as noon approached Nynka dragged the shiny box across the wintry landscape and shoved it securely into the snow atop her chosen rock. It took a few impatient minutes of regular poking and prodding before the lazy thing woke up, at which point it started beep-beep-bloop!ing in complaint every time Nynka thrust a claw in its direction. She grinned and with brisk purpose hit it a few more times—BLEEPschreepityEEP!—and then turned her beady black eyes expectantly outward to rove across the landscape as her whiskers gave a twitch. Previously the little bleepy-box had shown itself to be capable of summoning strange beasts; Nynka waited to see what magics it might try to perform on this particular day. Mastering its ins and outs would doubtless require some further experimentation on her part but at least it was always interesting to see what sort of mood it was in and what creatures it would call when she took it out for a walk.

a most peculiar noise was causing thorn unusual distress. it sounded like a bird - except, maybe a bird being ground between two stones, or a bird that had no beak or possibly the noise of a mouse and bird coupled together - thorn couldn't make any sense of the noise other than that it was very heckin' annoying.

almost belligerently, the beast was nosing about looking for this source of torment, and after a good deal of rustling and disturbance of just about the entire forest, he finally found it -- in the most peculiar form of a weasel standing atop a rock with a very shiny looking stone in its paws.

he slowed as he approached, his tail held out behind him in a menacing manner as he eyed the critter and her toy. whatever it was, he wanted to eat it -- he found things tended to shut right up once they went down his gullet, and with a bullish snort, the beast confidently announced his presence and expected the weasel to get the hint and scatter, right quickly.

Her expectant expression metamorphosed pretty quickly as her eyes fell upon the big black canid stalking towards her, her alert whiskers drooping with disappointment. Another wolf, really? she said to the shiny box in disgruntlement. Temperamentally she shoved at it, which elicted another quick bleep-eep-eep! from the thing before it teetered over onto another of its metallic faces with a CLANK.

Nynka looked sneeringly down at the canine prowling across the rusty-hued earth below. If you're trying to sneak up on it, you can stop: it hasn't got any legs and doesn't run very fast, I assure you. The sarcasm dripped thick and heavy from her tongue. And if it's me you're trying to sneak up on, you're doing an even shittier job of that, you dolt. Any weasel's a lot quicker than any of you lot, or didn't your mother teach you that?

Not to mention, she added more matter-of-factly, keep sneaking around like that and you're liable to turn yourself into a stinkin' cat. It was at this point that the metallic device, whose quiet blip-blip-burblings to itself Nynka had all this time been blithely ignoring, suddenly let out a much shriller repetitive noise: BRRREEEN! BRRRRREEEN! Bleep-eep-eep BRREEEEN!

Nynka jumped about a foot in the air, and spun on the wolf as she came down, her fur all abristle and a martial light in her eyes as her small fangs glimmered menacingly in the early afternoon light. Skyyaaaahh! Did you tell it to do that, beast?!

thorn was unused to his prospective dinner turning around to sass him; rather stupidly he slowed, blinking in disbelief as a verbal barrage assaulted him. his spine rounded in a prickly rise of hackles, but he did not launch at the weasel -- not yet.

the strange object in her hands had earned most of his attention despite the sharp bite of the weasel's tongue; he shifted back as it clattered downwards -- and when it issued a series of noises he could only describe as unholy, he did indeed look like a cat -- for his back arched and his tail fluffed and a razorbacked ridge of hackles rose to their full volume down his spine.

he cut the weasel an insolent glare, feeling his heart beat -- he neither liked the noise, nor the shiny rock, nor the weasel, and had half a mind to leave before whatever it was hurt him. it seemed almost insectile with the noises it made, save its features were smooth like an odd stone. he recalled as a pup finding a praying mantis was not as fun a toy as it looked -- and more than once, had received the sharp sting of a spider's bite. wanting no such re-introduction to pain that had been inflicted in his childhood, he backed slowly away. "what is that, weasel?" he growled, ignoring both her insults and the accusation he had been the one to do it.

oh, if he was smarter he might have gone with it and lied -- but thorn had never been the cleverest eyjolfur.

Nynka kept a wary eye on the device, wondering if it was awakening for real this time, and if perhaps it really was about to shoot its legs free of its metallic shell at last and go scurrying about as it shrieked. ...It seemed not, however, as despite its noises it still refused to move, and with a shorter series of mumbled bzzrp bzzrp bzzrps it went quiescent again. Shouldn't you know? she returned snippily, though she kept one eye on the alien box. You're the one it called to, after all.

After a moment Nynka turned her head away from the object slightly more to focus more on the hulking black wolf again. If anything, he was only getting bigger as his pelt stood all on end, though this was compensated for somewhat by the cowardly retreat his paws were engaging steadily in now. Nynka took in the high arch of his back and gave her head a minute shake. Maybe it was already too late for this poor dumb wolf: he was acting far more like a spooked cat than a big brave canine, already. Well, if he woke up in the morning and found himself mewing and roaring, he couldn't say the weasel hadn't warned him! But in the meantime and more importantly to Nynka (whose needs' primacy ought to go unchallenged by these stupid brutes, but one never knew what was going on in those dense wolfskulls of theirs) despite his slavish obedience to the box he obviously hadn't the foggiest idea what it was or how to use it, either. Welp. It'd been worth a try. Nynka squinted up at the sky for a minute to try and gauge how much the thing would have fed, and how long she ought to keep it out—assuming the thickening clouds didn't obscure the watery winter sunshine entirely anyhow.

thorn was admittedly still taken aback by the strange box. its bizarre whirring noises and clicks, combined with the fierce tenacity of the little weasel, was simply a terrible amount of information to process. he did not like it - he did not like its unnatural shape, its unnatural sheen, nor its unnatural noises.

he might have attempted to abscond with the device, had it not whirred and clanked in manners entirely foreign to him. the idea of pushing that down his gullet and having it do whatever it was that it did, was unsavory and unpalatable to the eyjolfur.

stepping back as the weasel looked skyward, thorn gave it another suspicious glance. "you ought to kill it," he suggested, a lash of his tail given in displeasure to have witnessed such an abomination.

The weak sunlight awoke a dull gleam along one side of the rust-spotted silver carapace, a gleam that caused Nynka to eye the thing with sidelong suspicion again. Was the alien box plotting something? It was awfully good at this sneaksome quiet biding its time, if so. Much better than Nynka herself, really; the little weasel was a pretty impatient beast. Witness now, as after only a few seconds she gave another dismissive twitch of her whiskers and focused on the canine instead, seeing as it was talking now and the box was not. There was only so much attention a mustelid could be expected to pay if somecreature was choosing to be boring, after all.

The wolf in its infinite wisdom thought they'd be better off making sure the box was thoroughly dead. Nynka wasn't impressed by the canine's lack of imagination, here. But who knew, maybe he'd manage to surprise her by changing that up: Oh? And how do you propose we do that, little wolf? Nynka quirked one whiskery brow archly at the canine, and then stepped back with a flourish. By all means, be my guest! Feel free to demonstrate. Nynka wasn't really all that fussed about the possibility of the wolf actually killing it. Despite some dents and kinks in its shiny metallic shell the thing had survived surprisingly long and well thus far, and neither Nynka herself nor any of the other creatures she'd encountered had been able to prise its innards out no matter how mightily they tried. At this point she thought the thing was likely at least halfway to immortality anyhow... and if this big black brute did manage to somehow improbably dehusk the beepy creature, while Nynka might be slightly annoyed ot lose her toy it would probably be eclipsed by her being duly impressed that someone had at last managed the feat.

Nynka was betting that this exceptionally thick-skulled wolf wasn't going to make any headway at all, though. She was however rather anticipating enjoying watching him try. Assuming he cooperated, here, in livening up her day with a spot of Big Dumb Wolf TV. (The Teekons' channels were rather limited, alas, but this prospect was definitely better than nothing.)

thorn was not accustomed to his dinner talking back to him, and so, he delivered an incredulous snort as the weasel's sass-train nearly bulldozed him. setting into a crouching position not so far away from the strange contraption, the hulking brute seemed to be sizing up both nynka and the box with judicious deliberation.

after what seemed a lengthy time he gave a shrug of his shoulders. he wasn't one to enjoy being sassed, and the implication he was little wounded him deeply -- but he was not one to quarrel words - especially with a creature possessing wit many times his superior. "i'd rather kill you," he growled, lurching into a flat gallop rather abruptly.

like a bull thus enraged to have been taunted too long, thorn swung his head and charged -- making directly for the little weasel with no sign of stopping. she would likely move, and he would likely not alter his course -- instead, he would plow right by the spot where she had stood and make his leave, a derisive snort announcing his departure.

Minor PP...? Lmk if you'd prefer I changed it; otherwise I'm thinking we can probably archive this, yes?  :)  Good threading with you, thanks!

Nynka's own eyes narrowed: she didn't like the look in this hulking beast's eye, nor the all-too-pregnant pause before he replied to her somewhat gibing suggestions.  Or maybe you're scared of it, Nynka started to sneer—a little ironic given that this remark was motivated by some growing unease of her own with the lengthening pause in conversation—but the brutish wolf suddenly plowed forth first in word and then in deed.

Nynka leapt up and aside, her fur abristle as her teeth were menacingly bared and her eyes lit anew with sparked anger of her own. Rude! she snapped, and, What do you think yer gonna do, trample it?! She was offended and very mildly concerned not for herself but for her little toy, as the freight train of bulky wolf went hurtling past and thundered right over the beepy box—but she didn't get to find out whether or not those galumphing paws might after all dent its shiny carapace when they collided at speed, because the wolf wasn't aiming for the beepy-box and his paws went flying over and past it. Nynka squinted at the shiny silver creature, but it just kept laying there unconcerned and unharmed, not even bothering to peep at the wolf that had so nearly stomped it. Huh. Was its armor that impressive, that it didn't worry one whit about such things? Apparently.

You missed me! shouted Nynka after the wolf, but he'd already bulldozed his way past her with no more reply than a snort. Nynka released a smaller but no less derisive snort of her own after him, one the wolf almost certainly couldn't actually hear at the rate he'd been going, and then she bounced back over to seize the nearest corner of the beepy-creature in her jaws and wrestle it safely back to her burrow.