This, too, was like something out of one of the old songs. Journey had never seen anything quite so large as a bison, and especially not quite so large as a whole herd of them.
It was a fine, misty morning. The grey fingers of dawn were just beginning to reach across the land, so that everything was silver under that pearlescent layer of fog. The bison looked more like ancient earth spirits than animals, their thick pelts sparkling with dew and silhouettes made blurry and ethereal by the inclimate weather. Their scent was heat and strength and spore, heady on the earth beneath her paws.
She remained crouched, enraptured in the shadow of a fallen tree, watching them from a distance. One of them seemed to sense her gaze and gave an almighty bellow; but when no danger came rushing out at them, they seemed content to go about their business.
It was a fine, misty morning. The grey fingers of dawn were just beginning to reach across the land, so that everything was silver under that pearlescent layer of fog. The bison looked more like ancient earth spirits than animals, their thick pelts sparkling with dew and silhouettes made blurry and ethereal by the inclimate weather. Their scent was heat and strength and spore, heady on the earth beneath her paws.
She remained crouched, enraptured in the shadow of a fallen tree, watching them from a distance. One of them seemed to sense her gaze and gave an almighty bellow; but when no danger came rushing out at them, they seemed content to go about their business.
May 28, 2020, 08:09 PM
Renaud did not, as a rule, devote much of their time to trying to be quiet. By now it just happened, a point of pride if they had one. Always one for lurking. Lurking did imply something to lurk around, though, and right now they weren't doing anything so much as walking. Decidedly aimless, as it had been since they left home. They were coming to realize it wasn't something they were built for. Not that it was insurmountable trouble, keeping themselves fed and watered, just repetitive. They had and could handle far worse; perhaps it was childish to say they were bored. Well, there was nobody around to make such a judgment.
They paused at the top of the next hill. It took a bit of tiptoeing to peer over the grass to where the pale morning light reflected every fleck of dew, but before them the ground sloped down into a short valley and offered a fair vantage, more than necessary to see the bison down below. Wreathed in mist, practically blurred into their surroundings. They were not and had never been out for sightseeing, but it was beginning to gain its appeal. At least it was something to do.
They stood there, peering out over the herd, until one lifted its head and bellowed a warning. Renard huffed under their breath -- how in the world were they -- but no. The bison swung its head around, but did not so much as glance in Renard's direction, and after a few moments where all of them shifted as though preparing to run, they settled back to grazing.
It would be embarrassing to have been seen that easily (even if they could claim they hadn't been really trying) but it seemed unlikely. Or maybe they were just full of shit. But again, nobody around to judge on that, so Renaud slid back into something more closely approaching a crouch and picked their way down the slope, heading for the fallen tree that made a noticeable divot in the grass. Bored they might be, causing a stampede was not on the agenda for today.
They paused at the top of the next hill. It took a bit of tiptoeing to peer over the grass to where the pale morning light reflected every fleck of dew, but before them the ground sloped down into a short valley and offered a fair vantage, more than necessary to see the bison down below. Wreathed in mist, practically blurred into their surroundings. They were not and had never been out for sightseeing, but it was beginning to gain its appeal. At least it was something to do.
They stood there, peering out over the herd, until one lifted its head and bellowed a warning. Renard huffed under their breath -- how in the world were they -- but no. The bison swung its head around, but did not so much as glance in Renard's direction, and after a few moments where all of them shifted as though preparing to run, they settled back to grazing.
It would be embarrassing to have been seen that easily (even if they could claim they hadn't been really trying) but it seemed unlikely. Or maybe they were just full of shit. But again, nobody around to judge on that, so Renaud slid back into something more closely approaching a crouch and picked their way down the slope, heading for the fallen tree that made a noticeable divot in the grass. Bored they might be, causing a stampede was not on the agenda for today.
May 29, 2020, 09:07 PM
The still air and the heaviness of the fog made it difficult to detect movement by scent, but Journey wasn't worried; she wasn't expecting to be hunted here today. But this meant she was surprised when she heard another making its way toward her, and stood quickly, spinning to face the sneaking aggressor head-on.
Her fur was standing on-end in order to make her appear as large as possible, but all this floofiness was the only sign of aggression coming from the young shewolf. She blinked at the male, and in a moment had divined that he had not come down to her tree in order to attack her, and that, perhaps, he had not meant to approach her at all.
"Hello," she said, bemused and still settling from the surprise of having been snuck up on. Behind her, one of the bison gave a snort as if in warning, and even though her standing form had not been tall enough to have revealed her to the beasts, she felt chastened by the sound and tucked herself more completely behind the tree once more. "Get down here!" she urged with a lash of her dark tail. "They're gonna see you!"
Her fur was standing on-end in order to make her appear as large as possible, but all this floofiness was the only sign of aggression coming from the young shewolf. She blinked at the male, and in a moment had divined that he had not come down to her tree in order to attack her, and that, perhaps, he had not meant to approach her at all.
"Hello," she said, bemused and still settling from the surprise of having been snuck up on. Behind her, one of the bison gave a snort as if in warning, and even though her standing form had not been tall enough to have revealed her to the beasts, she felt chastened by the sound and tucked herself more completely behind the tree once more. "Get down here!" she urged with a lash of her dark tail. "They're gonna see you!"
Lemme know if I should change anything!
May 29, 2020, 11:11 PM
The broken tree lay unfortunately close to the herd and truthfully Renard could have simply given it a berth -- a log to pause by wasn't necessary -- but they were doing all sorts of strange things lately. Learning. Could have stayed well back in their birth pack and measured up as skilled by virtue of knowing every shadow inside and out, but where was the fun in that? Things got stale. Maybe they weren't being quite as careful as they should have been, though, not thinking about what could be around the corners (a gross error in good judgment but at least one they were aware they were committing) because they had barely reached the island in the sea of grass when a very fluffy...thing...spun around in front of them.
Renard, halted mid-step, blinked. So did she.
"Ah," they said, returning the greeting on impulse more than actual thought, though they had the presence of mind to keep their voice down. "Hello."
The bison could hear it anyways, judging by the snort that followed. There wasn't much else to be heard beyond the sound of singing birds. Renard hadn't had much occasion to encounter them before or figure just how good they were at picking wolves out. It almost didn't seem like they needed it, looking the way they did. By this point, though, they thought that if there was to be any reaction from the herd it would probably be aimed in the opposite direction, away from...
Still crouched, Renard tucked themselves behind the tree. Kept an eye on the -- well, under all the fluff, it was a wolf, it seemed. Easier to tell this close.
"I'm sure they've already heard us." They kept their voice down anyways. Force of habit. "Not planning on hunting, I take it. Just out seeing the sights?"
Renard, halted mid-step, blinked. So did she.
"Ah," they said, returning the greeting on impulse more than actual thought, though they had the presence of mind to keep their voice down. "Hello."
The bison could hear it anyways, judging by the snort that followed. There wasn't much else to be heard beyond the sound of singing birds. Renard hadn't had much occasion to encounter them before or figure just how good they were at picking wolves out. It almost didn't seem like they needed it, looking the way they did. By this point, though, they thought that if there was to be any reaction from the herd it would probably be aimed in the opposite direction, away from...
Still crouched, Renard tucked themselves behind the tree. Kept an eye on the -- well, under all the fluff, it was a wolf, it seemed. Easier to tell this close.
"I'm sure they've already heard us." They kept their voice down anyways. Force of habit. "Not planning on hunting, I take it. Just out seeing the sights?"
June 10, 2020, 03:34 AM
Journey's focus had shifted wholly away from the bison and onto the stranger before her. The male was rather intimidating up close, she thought, with his bulk and his scars, but she thought he had kind eyes. (She was keen on thinking this of just about anyone; she had not yet met someone without kind eyes, even if she was aware of their theoretical existance.) Still, she pressed herself back against the tree to give the other plenty of space, more out of respect than actual fear.
"Oh, yes," she agreed, keeping her voice low so as not to further disturb the beasts. "They're far too big for me to hunt by myself — or even with you! I was just watching. I've heard stories before, but never seen them myself until today."
It seemed unnatural (and unwise) to turn her back on her new treemate, but the call of the scenery was too loud to be ignored. She wiggled back under the fallen tree to gaze out at the bison on the ghostly plains once more, her tail wagging rather frantically in the air. What she really wanted was to roll in one of those dry, grassy bison patties, but she was wary of venturing out from beneath her cover.
"It almost doesn't seem real," she sighed, sounding quite in love with the world. "It's like being transported to another world." Like that moment in Jurassic Park, where they see the big long neck dinosaurs crossing the plains for the first time and the music swells and everything is just like whoa all of the sudden.
"Oh, yes," she agreed, keeping her voice low so as not to further disturb the beasts. "They're far too big for me to hunt by myself — or even with you! I was just watching. I've heard stories before, but never seen them myself until today."
It seemed unnatural (and unwise) to turn her back on her new treemate, but the call of the scenery was too loud to be ignored. She wiggled back under the fallen tree to gaze out at the bison on the ghostly plains once more, her tail wagging rather frantically in the air. What she really wanted was to roll in one of those dry, grassy bison patties, but she was wary of venturing out from beneath her cover.
"It almost doesn't seem real," she sighed, sounding quite in love with the world. "It's like being transported to another world." Like that moment in Jurassic Park, where they see the big long neck dinosaurs crossing the plains for the first time and the music swells and everything is just like whoa all of the sudden.
June 11, 2020, 12:44 AM
Renard, unlike their companion in poorly thought-out stealth, had no real compunctions about leaving the shelter of the tree. They did, however, think that it was only polite not to ruin what had clearly been a nice morning of… watching bison.
It seemed they already had, though, considering how directly she was staring at them.
“You’ve never seen them yourself?” they repeated as she wiggled herself back under the log, tail waving frantically in the air. This was all well and good for her, but for once Renard was actually the larger wolf (physically, presumably not morally) in this matchup, and they were not keen to get themselves wedged under a fallen tree today. Or ever.
Renard stepped a bit closer, but anyway you cut it it was difficult to hold a conversation with someone when all you could see of them was their butt. They settled onto their haunches instead and peered through the tangle of branches out at the peacefully grazing bison, who appeared to have stopped caring they were there again.
A field of bison wasn’t that strange a sight, but…she seemed barely more than a kid, and they didn’t go around raining on everyone’s wide-eyed and excited parades for fun. At least when the conversation revolved entirely around sightseeing a herd of bison. So instead of it’s hardly anything like that, they chuckled. “What stories have you heard?”
It seemed they already had, though, considering how directly she was staring at them.
“You’ve never seen them yourself?” they repeated as she wiggled herself back under the log, tail waving frantically in the air. This was all well and good for her, but for once Renard was actually the larger wolf (physically, presumably not morally) in this matchup, and they were not keen to get themselves wedged under a fallen tree today. Or ever.
Renard stepped a bit closer, but anyway you cut it it was difficult to hold a conversation with someone when all you could see of them was their butt. They settled onto their haunches instead and peered through the tangle of branches out at the peacefully grazing bison, who appeared to have stopped caring they were there again.
A field of bison wasn’t that strange a sight, but…she seemed barely more than a kid, and they didn’t go around raining on everyone’s wide-eyed and excited parades for fun. At least when the conversation revolved entirely around sightseeing a herd of bison. So instead of it’s hardly anything like that, they chuckled. “What stories have you heard?”
As intent as she was on the bison, and being that she had her back turned to the erstwhile stranger, Journey did not notice that they thought her point of view rather silly. Even the idea that they might live here and see this quite often did not occur to the excited youth, who could only imagine this experience as once-in-a-lifetime.
"Stories about the great hunts," she replied, as if this was all quite obvious. "Where I'm from, we mostly hunt the caribou, and sometimes a moose if something important is coming up. But these are like a moose and a bear in one gigantic body. Like stories of the ancient hunters taking down mammoths."
Journey wiggled back out from under the trunk, her eyes shining. "My aunt's a great hunter, you know. My whole family is, but my aunt they call Blackbear because she's hunted a bear. And she's hunted these, too. She says she once brought a whole pelt home to her father, and that's when she became the youngest leader of the hunt in — I can't remember. But a long time."
She spent a moment looking wistful before rearing back and bracing her forelegs on the tree trunk so that she could look over it instead of under. "My dad never liked me hunting big game," she said, conversationally. "I guess I can see his point where bison and moose are involved. But still — wouldn't it be cool to say you've taken one of these down?"
"Stories about the great hunts," she replied, as if this was all quite obvious. "Where I'm from, we mostly hunt the caribou, and sometimes a moose if something important is coming up. But these are like a moose and a bear in one gigantic body. Like stories of the ancient hunters taking down mammoths."
Journey wiggled back out from under the trunk, her eyes shining. "My aunt's a great hunter, you know. My whole family is, but my aunt they call Blackbear because she's hunted a bear. And she's hunted these, too. She says she once brought a whole pelt home to her father, and that's when she became the youngest leader of the hunt in — I can't remember. But a long time."
She spent a moment looking wistful before rearing back and bracing her forelegs on the tree trunk so that she could look over it instead of under. "My dad never liked me hunting big game," she said, conversationally. "I guess I can see his point where bison and moose are involved. But still — wouldn't it be cool to say you've taken one of these down?"
June 27, 2020, 11:25 PM
Renard had hunted a caribou or two in their time, just with none of the context. Meat was meat, and that was as far as they were concerned, unless it was about the numbers needed to bring one down.
Still, they supposed they could see it. If they squinted. “I don’t know.” Renard tilted their head, chin now resting on one of the larger branches in the tangle. “I think I’d rather take my chances with one of these than a moose.” Yes, Renard had seen bison before, but their…hunting experience…with them was limited. Moose were very decidedly a challenge.
Black bear, on the other hand, Renard had no hunting experience with, because even if they liked picking fights that was only as long as they were all in good fun or with a decisive advantage. They made a questioning noise. “Not what I would go after. Did you ever see it?”
As she reared back to rest her forelegs over the tree trunk, Renard gave her a side glance. “Yeah? Doesn’t look like anyone’s around to tell you that anymore. Maybe save it for when you’ve got a pack, though.” They smiled. “Making sure your bones stay in one piece is a good habit to keep.”
Still, they supposed they could see it. If they squinted. “I don’t know.” Renard tilted their head, chin now resting on one of the larger branches in the tangle. “I think I’d rather take my chances with one of these than a moose.” Yes, Renard had seen bison before, but their…hunting experience…with them was limited. Moose were very decidedly a challenge.
Black bear, on the other hand, Renard had no hunting experience with, because even if they liked picking fights that was only as long as they were all in good fun or with a decisive advantage. They made a questioning noise. “Not what I would go after. Did you ever see it?”
As she reared back to rest her forelegs over the tree trunk, Renard gave her a side glance. “Yeah? Doesn’t look like anyone’s around to tell you that anymore. Maybe save it for when you’ve got a pack, though.” They smiled. “Making sure your bones stay in one piece is a good habit to keep.”
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