Qeya River Marble rye

Raccoon meat wasn’t especially desirable, but the ring-tailed creature had grown fat, almost comically so- and Ksura was not one to pass up an opportunity when it presented itself. Unfortunately, he lacked a great deal of experience when it came to hunting raccoons- and so when the creature spooked and ran for the nearest tree, the hunt came to an abrupt halt.

Raccoons could climb- and alas, Ksura could not. 

He was frustrated by the creature’s survival tactic, and circled the tree panting quickly and barking intermittently. He whined and scrabbled at the birch’s papery bark with his forepaws, standing up on his hind legs to try and get a bit closer- but the raccoon had ascended a good fifteen feet above the ground, well out of his reach.

His barks were high-pitched, quiet, but full of disdain. To see his quarry clearly cornered but out of reach was agony. He pitched his weight against the birch, but the tree did little more than tremble. He scratched away a few papery layers of bark with his claws. He could open his mouth wide enough to grasp the trunk, but no matter how he tugged and pulled, the tree did little more than quake, shaking loose only yellowed leaves. 

The raccoon trilled at him. He sat and stared up at it, panting still as he pondered what other methods he could use to either fell the tree, or shake the raccoon loose from its perch.

His rest spoiled by a night terror Kekoa found that he could do nothing but walk. He did not have the stomach to eat, nor the voice to speak. He would walk until he could shake off his horror.

The cries of another sounding out he furrowed his brow, moving towards the sound unthinking. He expected to see something upsetting when the source was found, yet when he spotted the familiar wolf glaring up at the ridiculously fat raccoon he couldn't help but snicker.

He was still feeling rather petty about their first meeting, making this a welcome sight. Stood between two bushes he stared at the back of the wolf, a smug look crossing his face as though he had prepared this frustrating issue himself.

He put his paws on the trunk again- one above the other, as it wasn’t broad enough for him to have them placed side by side. He gave the tree a shove- and felt it sway almost imperceptibly away from him, before it swayed back into place. He gave it another shove- the tree moved again. Another shove, timed just at the end of its rebound sway- and it seemed to become more willing to move. 

To bend or break, it would not- but sway? Absolutely. 

But Ksura didn’t have the force to make the tree sway far enough for it to loosen the raccoon’s grip. 

He caught what he thought was the sound of something rattling- and turned to see the medic with an amused look on his face. Ksura felt no shame- he was too hyperfixated on the task at hand, and saw before him a potential solution. 

You help me shake this think outa the tree, He said, And I’ll turn its baggy hide into something you can use. Tail and all. A fair trade, he thought.

What would he need such a thing for? He considered it for a moment.

Right - he was a herbalist here. He needed to carry his herbs. It was hard to resist teasing the other, however. "Well I'm not sure - you planning on snarling at me again?"

He raised an eyebrow, his head and tail high as though he believed he had the upper hand. There wasn't much for him to be competing for of course.

Despite his words he did approach the tree, standing on the side opposite of Ksura. He would help.

No, He said, as if puzzled by the statement- and then he remembered. Oh- right. He grimaced.  Yeah, sorry- I was kind of a douche to you but like…Yeah. Stone Crier’s all I got left here, from our pack before Sun Eater took over, so, He shrugged. Not tryin’ to make excuses but if you knew what we’d just gone through, it’d probably make more sense.

Generally speaking, Ksura wasn’t a senseless violence kind of guy. But the raid had put him on edge- and to see Kekoa posture made him bristle again. The younger male wasn’t someone he’d consider to be a great threat; he eyed him with a squint, and huffed. 

Sooo….Gonna help me or not?

"Nothing else for me to do - plus the hide could be useful." He grunted, front paws lifting to be placed on the tree. He stared up at the raccoon, just the look of it nearly making his stomach growl.

He questioned if the other may answer his questions - fill in the gaps for him. Kekoa had heard the events alluded to many times, yet did not know what had happened. "What did happen though? Nobody will give me a straight answer."

Grunting, he pushed the tree - watching the creature clinging for dear life as it shook ever so slightly.

Testy as he was, it seemed like Kekoa was willing to forgive and forget- just the sort of thing Ksura was capable of, as well. 

He placed his paws on the tree as well, and might have begun to explain when an odd question gave him reason to pause. 

This guy didn’t know.
So…How much could Ksura tell him?
He had two choices- and while the secret burned inside of him, crying and slamming itself against the bars, he kept it locked away. Kekoa would get the story, but Ksura had to be mindful of perspective.

Sun Eater came when our leaders were away, and issued a challenge, to claim the pack…Or what was left of it. He said. One of our leaders had been missing for a while- the other left to search for her…And their kids followed, though I tried to keep ‘em here. 

His paws slid back to the ground when he realized that this was going to take more time to explain. The raccoon could wait- it had nowhere to go, anyway.

Just like him.

Anyway, a fight broke out on the borders. Sun Eater killed one of our packmates. S-Stone Crier was injured, and fled. I did, too. He’d almost used her name- but corrected himself in time. Others came with him. He found us, and made us submit. Now we’re caribou hunters.

His paws returned to the ground, clear concern furrowing his brow. He had assumed that it was their choice to stay. He wondered about the previous leader's; if they would return, and what would happen if they did. "So he won't let you leave? But why?"

Kekoa could understand fighting for a territory claimed by another, but why keep the wolves previously living there? They would only resent the new leader.

He could not yet share their resentment, however. Sun Eater was yet to wrong him.

This all seemed like news to Kekoa, who didn’t look like he was taking it well. Ksura worried he might bail and leave, if he felt that Sun Eater was a threat.

Which, technically, he was- indirectly, at least. 

No, it’s not like that, He said. After all, his horror stories couldn’t be the reason their one medic up and ran away. He’d let me leave. He gave us that option, He said. I’ve got reasons to stay. Besides, He said, standing up again- hoping Kekoa wouldn’t have too many more doubtful questions. Caribou hunting will be a rush.

He gave a small nod, front paws returning to the tree. "I never got the chance to hunt anything like that back home. I was too young." He said, tail swaying. "Have you done it before?"

Large prey was a mystery to him. He had watched his birth pack hunt, but was yet to participate. But it sounded as though he would need to learn if he was to remain here. It could be fun.

He gave the tree another shake. That raccoon had to come down eventually.

Too young? Ksura stole a glance at Kekoa again, and chuffed. He didn’t often study the features of other wolves, and avoided eye contact as a habit unless it was needed- but it didn’t take him long to realize that within those eyes was the gleam of youth, a face lightly framed, a build not yet completely finished. He bore wounds, but no signs of aging- he was a yearling, but not much more than that, Ksura reckoned.

Well, He said, giving the trunk a push as it swayed toward him. You will this year. He said, pushing the trunk back toward Kekoa. The top of the tree swayed gently, the raccoon dug its claws into the white bark. 

I’ve hunted deer, elk…Sheep, obviously. Mountain goats too; never caribou, but anything with a pulse can be killed. He said. He glanced wolfishly up toward the raccoon, and once the tree swayed back in his direction again, he gave it another push.

"You must be half decent at it then." He moved his head to look at the other. The sparrow coated wolf across from him was rather well built, he thought. The experience he spoke of showed. "I think it could be fun - so long as I have someone to show me."

Admittedly it was embarrassing, knowing so little. In Kekoa's mind leaving home was for the best, but it had it's disadvantages. He had yet to experience his first big hunt, to learn to fight properly, or the proper social etiquette. It had only made things more difficult.

But in his mind, it was necessary. If he had left sooner then maybe Kaisaan...

He shook the thought out of his head. Now was not the time to cry.

He did wonder how it came about that Kekoa had ended up on his own, unschooled in the art of the hunt. He thought he caught a note in the young man’s voice that sounded somewhat like regret- perhaps for another life that could have been. Ksura knew that feeling well.

he shrugged the compliment off. Being good at hunting wasn’t a talent, it was a necessity. You’ll like it. He answered. Sun Eater will show us the tricks, I’m sure. His lifestyle basically revolves around hunting caribou, so… He would just have to trust, blindly, that the man wasn’t completely deranged, and that he did in fact know how to hunt caribou. 

He wasn’t sure Kekoa might be so easily convinced- considering he’d only just learned of how the conqueror had come to claim the pack. I’ll watch your back. He said. 

He tried not to be too poignant- but it felt like the right time to show some amount of concern for someone who’d seemingly stumbled into a new way of life. 

Speaking of your back, He said. Mind putting a bit more of it into pushing your side of the tree? He prodded with a half-smile. If we take turns pushing, I think it’ll sway more.

'I'll watch your back.' The words, as simple as they were, brought a smile to his face. Someone to look up to - that was all he needed. Sheep Killer could be that for him, he decided.

A small pause, he would heed the words spoked of the other. He gave the tree his best push, looking back up to the wavering raccoon.

"The hide - you said you could use it to make something for me." He had never heard of such practices. "Could you show me when you do? I'd like to learn."

He felt slightly wary of taking on another responsibility. His track record wasn’t exactly spotless- how many children had he been in charge of that had ended up disappearing? How many wolves that he’d cared for had ended up slain? 

But this was a new page in his life- maybe things would be different now.

He pushed back when the tree leaned toward him, sending it back toward Kekoa. The tree’s highest branches wavered much more now. The raccoon’s eyes were bright- and it now glanced around, nervously; no other branches were within reach for it to leap to. 

Sure, He said. It’s like the same process as cleaning out pelts to make soft bedding…Gotta peel all the fat off the skin, dry it out…But I seen someone in my travels carryin…I dunno, stuff, in a pelt in her mouth. Never saw what it was that she had in there, but I seen her goin’ with it and it was kind of an ah-ha moment for me. Never thought to use skins to carry stuff before. He gave the tree another shove, and began to hear creaking from within the bark.

Another strong thrust with the base of his large paws.

"I don't bother with the pelts usually - I never thought they could be used for anything." The taste of fur in his mouth was never nice - particularly when it was coming off an animal that was already dead. "I guess it's better not to waste any part of it though. It's an insult to the work hunting takes."

His tail waved as he stared up at the raccoon. The kill was not for him to eat, but that would not make this any less satisfying.

Well, He said, his voice strained as he pushed back against the trunk. He repositioned his feet- a bit higher, to see if it might make a difference. The older you get, the more you think outside - of - the -

A shadow passed over him. He looked up in time to see the raccoon eclipse the sun, its excessive skin spreading out as if to parachute him safely to the ground. 

Raccoon! He shouted, and bolted toward the area where the raccoon might land. But the raccoon- who must have been watched some funny cat videos at some point, maneuvered in the air, stalling its flight just enough so that Ksura skidded to a halt just past its landing point. 

Ksura pivoted and snapped his fangs at the creature as he gathered himself and cried out with a hungry smile. Get ‘im!

Kekoa was quick to shoot towards the fat creature, coming out in front of it with a snap of his jaws to drive it back towards Sheep Killer.

He had nearly forgotten the rush of adrenaline hunting gave him - the fact that he wasn't alone made it much less dire as well.

He was already thinking out what to do with the pelt - it would be good for carrying of course, but what else? An accessory maybe?

Faced with certain death at Kekoa's snapping jaws, the raccoon bailed- and went straight from the frying pan and into the fire. Ksura was ready for the raccoon when it wheeled, and as soon as he grabbed a hold of its loose, baggy skin he realized that the creature would for certain put up a fight, and scream bloody murder while it was at it. Claws scrabbled at his fur, and those odd grabby-hands that allowed it to climb grabbed a hold of his fur and pulled. 

Ksura shook the raccoon like it was a ragdool until he could reposition his grip and shake once more. The creature went limp, twitching once or twice before he dropped it. 

In each of its paws, a hunk of Ksura's fur. The oddity of it made him laugh.

He would make good on his promise- for his help, Kekoa would be given the raccoon's pelt, to do with as he pleased.