Blackfeather Woods We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity
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#1
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The moon still hung soft and silvern in the dawn sky when Ramsay surfaced from Mephala's web and loped out into the dewy woods. His ears sloped up over his brow as he jogged along, eyes darting side to side as if searching for something. Which he was, of course.

He'd seen them just prior to retiring for the night. A doe and her fawn, grazing at the new spring growth in the deepest part of the forest, near the Melonii's entrance to the web. Having slept the night away, the pair wasn't far from where Ramsay first spotted them. The little dwarf moved quietly through the trees, tracking them, until he found them near an offshoot of Otter Creek that wound its way out toward Namira's Mire.

Eyeing them keenly, Ramsay moved off some distance and dropped his hindquarters to howl for the most trusted of his packmates, @Maegi and @Titmouse.
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Thread titles are quotes from H.P. Lovecraft.
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#2
Maegi was too fretful over Damien, Flicker, and the like to sleep much. Even when she did drift off, she was haunted by nightmares. Blood and death, blood and death. Miraak—Poppy—Lainie—Cicero—Relmyna—and then all the living, so many living—

So it was with great relief that Ramsay's call roused her from disturbing imagery, and she left her den in Spiderlings' Glen to meet her brother. His pelt was blue-black in the moonlight; if you forgot about the misshapen form of his spine, he was handsome. He still was handsome, in his own way, just like Mou.

Her two right-hand-men. The thought made her smile, and she dipped her muzzle to Ramsay, face lit in silent question.
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#3
The call came to him while he slept; it wasn't a deep sleep though, and he kicked as he woke to the darkness of the cave. It took a few moments for his dream to dissipate from his mind. Mou tried to focus on it - it seemed so important - but he had the itch to leave the cave and roam the forest, and that drew him out. By the time he'd shrugged sleep from his body and was ducking out of the winding underground system of corridors and shadow, he had forgotten all about his dream.

Mou thought he could smell blood in the air, though. It was faint - a trick of the morning air, maybe. He tried to take a deep breath but instead of blood he smelled Maegi and Ramsay, so he chose to seek them out instead. It was rare that he find them together; they did not seem as close as he might've anticipated siblings to be, but that wasn't a bad thing either. Mou wasn't exactly a favourite among his ilk, after all.

As he came slinking along, he paused by Maegi's flank but did not approach; likely still sore after being shunted in to the dark like some nefarious secret.
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#4
Of Mou's current predicament, Ramsay was unaware; he watched his sister and then the cyclopean ghost as they arrived, and noted with some interest Titmouse's seeming hesitation at her flank. He'd long assumed that Titmouse was Maegi's mate, or equivalent thereof, and found this distance a little unusual. He didn't know them as a pair, however, and couldn't draw any conclusions based on this. He would have thought them closer, but maybe that was just the sort of relationship they had. And what experience did he have with such things anyway?

Putting it from his mind, the stunted wolf turned and motioned for them to follow. The distance was short and he hoped that his surreptitious mien as he approached the place was enough to clue his packmates in that this required some subtlety. The doe was as hyper aware as she could be in such a stifling, gloomy forest. One slip up could cost them a kill.

He motioned to the clearing where the doe and fawn were grazing, then glanced quietly between his companions. Beneath his breath, hardly more than a whisper, he asked, hungry?
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Thread titles are quotes from H.P. Lovecraft.
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She felt rather than saw Mou's approach, and turned with a smile, only for the expression to vanish as she noticed the distance he kept. It wasn't a frown, just a flat line across her ruined muzzle, and she shot him a puzzled look before turning back to Ramsay, her brow furrowed. What on earth had she done? Was he still angry about the other day?

Maegi followed her brother, trying to keep her hobbling gait as silent and steady as possible. Her eyes lit upon the two deer, and she nodded in response to Ramsay's question. She wasn't much of a hunter, but the three of them together could manage a small kill, right? They would have to manage, anyway.
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He watches as Ramsay leads them through the trees, keeping to the rear. It struck him as they went along that both of these siblings had unique quirks. Their bodies weren't as lean as his, as proportioned. He had never really taken stock of the differences before. It didn't matter much, Maegi was beautiful and her brother had more skill than Mou could hope for. All three of them were survivors.

Soon Rams came to a halt. His quiet utterance earned a twist from Mou's ears; but he didn't reply with words, he watched the target and waited for a game plan. They all knew these woods but of the three, perhaps Mou was the fastest. They would need to instruct him in this task regardless of his involvement because he had no experience with larger prey.
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Turns out Ramsay selected all of the worst wolves for a hunt, because he also had no experience with large game, and took for granted that the other two probably did. He had at least enough knowledge to know that the fawn was a smarter option. Smaller, slower, less experienced... an ideal target. He motioned to that one, pausing so either of his companions could protest the selection, and then he was at a loss for what to do.

So Ramsay did what Ramsay did best: winged it. He was capable of running just as fast as any average wolf if he really tried, but in truth his speed suffered just a little thanks to his crumpled form. Maegi's paws would impede her. He came to the same conclusion Titmouse did, and turned his eyes to the masked Redhawk. Oooh. Was his eyesight severely effected?

Think you can run in and sorta separate 'em? he whispered before casting his vision over to Maegi, and do you think you could bar it from escaping into the trees? He set it up in his head exactly the way he would set up an ambush on another wolf, which was not at all how hunting worked, but who's judging? Then I can move on the offensive and bring it down? This was all said in a hush so quiet that, had it been summer, the rustling of leaves would have drowned his voice out.
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Thread titles are quotes from H.P. Lovecraft.
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Ramsay was probably best suited to give marching orders; she had no idea how in hell to get something like this rolling. Uh, sure, she said in response, sounding a little uncertain but willing to give it a try, nonetheless. She had helped take down big game during the hunt with Relmyna, and on a couple other assorted occasions, but she was mostly useless.

She would try.

Trying to remain as quiet as the ghost she looked, Maegi slipped back toward the trees, eyes flickering between the deer and the pair of wolves. At least the fawn was smaller, less likely to do serious damage. Here's hoping the mother was like Potema, completely careless. She stifled a rueful snort at the thought.
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He crouched low beside Ramsay; having been thinking about their differences the past few moments, Mou was struck by how stunted he seemed at this close angle. He didn't stare - knowing how such behavior irked him in the past - and refocused on the target. The doe was still grazing. The fawn close to her flank, and lingering there while Ramsay gave a run-down of the plan.

Mou understood what the goal was and knew what he had to do, so he nodded and branched away from them. If he got in the right position then he could separate them while simultaneously driving the fawn in to his companions' waiting teeth. It seemed easy enough.

As Mou settled in to position (stalking around the forest, keeping the mother and fawn within view), he didn't linger long - and burst forth, running with more finesse than he had ever shown previous; the earth barely stirred with his ghostly strides, and as he neared the little family he thought he was in the clear. His plan was to snap at them both, spark panic, and then distract the mother while the fawn tried to escape in to the waiting wolves.
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#10
As his companions moved into position, Ramsay trailed after Titmouse, seeking to get as close to the fawn as he could so that when Mou separated the two, he would be able to quickly move in. It all made sense in his head and played out like a dream when he imagined it. Mou, streaking with ease toward the two, them separating without a hitch, Maegi preventing the quarry from fleeing into the woods and Ramsay barreling into it with all his wrecking ball ferocity.

Yeah, it was going to go perfectly. Except Ramsay had never seen wolves in action like this before, so when Mou kicked off and flew into the clearing, his heart jumped out of its seat, his paws flexed, and he broke his cover way too early. Excitement took hold of him and sent him thundering haphazardly toward the fawn. For a moment it seemed he could not fail—it was bleating, panic-stricken and fleeing from Mou's approach, but then the whole Motherly Instinct thing kicked in and suddenly Ramsay took a battering ram to the shoulder.

He went into a sideways roll, end over end a couple of times before rolling to a stop. Thank god it wasn't a buck, or he'd probably be dead. Wincing, the dwarf pushed himself up, spotted the fawn and doe both breaking for the trees, and cried out, Maegi! in hopes that she and Titmouse together could secure the kill that he'd failed to get.
THREADS: 5/5
Thread titles are quotes from H.P. Lovecraft.
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#11
why do i suddenly hear 'yakety sax'?

Things were going great, until they weren't. Well, Mou did his part well enough, and Ramsay was going, going—and then her heart caught in her throat as he was knocked over. Her ears pinned back as he shouted her name, and she launched herself into the quickest run she could toward the escaping duo—which happened to be more of an ungainly amble, like someone running to the toilet with their pants around their ankles.

She fell short of the fawn, but the doe was closer; heedless of injury, Maegi leapt toward it, and her muzzle caught the sharp edge of a forehoof. Before she could recover and strike again, the two were long gone, headed into the woods. She loped after them to no avail, then stopped, seething.

She licked her chops and tasted blood. Her own.
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The doe was closer to a stand of trees, her fawn by her hocks, but as Mou came through the dark at them they reacted separately - mother veering in a line away, child unprepared, panicked. It was good.

From Mou's dark side came a flurry of crashing and heavy breathing because Ramsay was racing for the deer as well; he lunged, but the doe reacted too swiftly and cracked him well on the shoulder. Mou watched in abject horror as the entire hunt disintegrated after that. In moments, even as he tried to lunge for the fawn himself, the nimble beasts were away to freedom before the wolves could even think.

The ghost had bolted in pursuit of them, but once the din of chaos subsided he came striding from the darkness, panting heavily and staring blankly in defeat at the forest floor.
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#13
When he regained his feet he took several halfhearted bounds toward the fleeing pair, but recognized almost immediately that it wasn't worth the chase. They were more fleet of foot than the wolves could hope to be. Ambush was their only advantage, and he'd dropped the ball spectacularly on that. He felt responsible, and his ears drooped when Maegi came back, followed by Titmouse. He parted his lips to apologize, but instead asked with heavy concern, Maegs, are you okay?

There was blood on her face. He pressed forward to discern the extent of her injury, his heart hammering because he felt like his lack of knowledge caused this. There were way more variables than that, but he shouldn't have tried to make it up as he went. Titmouse seemed put out too, and Ramsay let his ears wilt. Sorry, guys, he said quietly, more informal than usual. Guess I don't know much about hunting in a group. The way it played out in his mind didn't account for the fact that these were deer, not wolves. They thought like prey, not predators. That, and he didn't know the first thing about organization in a hunt either.

That was awesome though Mou, he commended, lifting his gaze to the one who had performed their role almost perfectly. You too, Maegs, that was all me. Went too early. Felt crappy to admit it but they both had seen it, anyway.
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Thread titles are quotes from H.P. Lovecraft.
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There was a distinct air of disappointment among the trio, for obvious reasons. Despite it all, Maegi nodded, giving a shrug of her scrawny shoulders in response. Yeah, I don't think it's very deep, she remarked, despite not really being able to see the cut unless she crossed her eyes, and even then. . . It's not bleeding a lot, right?

Outside observers would only note a small, steady trickle, and it was coagulating quickly. She had gotten lucky; the deer could have easily broken her nose.

It could have been worse, she tried, with a sigh. I'm not great at hunting, either. We'll get better. And there's always smaller game. I know how to fish? Maegi added, grimacing. Fish could do in a pinch, but they weren't exactly a full meal. I guess we gotta find some good hunters to live with us, huh?

She aimed a smile at Mou, in particular, hoping to lighten the tension between them. Hey, she was trying, at least.
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As he moved in to rejoin the group it would be easily noticed that he was limping. Nothing was bleeding, nothing was outwardly wrong, but the hitch to his step had returned. Maybe he had pulled a muscle in his legs; it appeared to affect his hips more so than the limbs. Maegi might recognize the shift in his gait as being reminiscent of their shared time in Undersea. Whatever. He would manage.

All that energy had been wasted, but he didn't feel bad about it. Although his face seemed drawn and his breath was quick, Mou felt surprisingly exhilarated by the effort. When he caught Maegi's gaze he couldn't help but smile - and gave Ramsay an affectionate boop when he was close enough. We did goot. Not perfect, and they obviously hadn't gotten any food, but it was a good try for a new trio of hunters; he was proud.
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No, Ramsay replied, stepping back to give Maegi more space. Thank Mephala, the cut just looked worse from afar than it was. Both Titmouse and Maegi were more optimistic about their failed hunt than Ramsay was, and he supposed that was why he had stayed in Blackfeather Woods when he first came upon them rather than returning to the wilderness to look for Euron once more: Maegi's positivity compared to his grounded him. He thought Titmouse would be more morose or even irate with him for the failure, but surprisingly he was good too. That made Ramsay feel a little better.

You're right, he conceded. I can hunt rabbits all right, we'll just need practice. There was a moment of silence between them where he returned Titmouse's nudge, and then he glanced between the pair before realizing he was probably intruding somewhat. I'll keep an eye out for them, he said, referring to the doe and her fawn. I'll let you know if I find them again. Think I'll go try to catch a few rabbits to make up for it. With a grateful smile for their assistance, Ramsay departed from the clearing, roughly following the trail of broken foliage.

Those two seemed like they needed to talk anyway.

Fading!
THREADS: 5/5
Thread titles are quotes from H.P. Lovecraft.