Cerulean Cape we're mortal
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Ooc — torvi
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#1
All Welcome 
temperament: sanguine

despite the patches of rain showers that sprinkle the warming morn — a sign that perhaps spring is closer than he first suspected upon his enterance to the teekon wilds — kraken finds himself both well-rested and sated; his breakfast of half-eaten seal left upon the shores of the cape for the scavengers, the gulls fighting over who got first peck, close to where the bluff melds almost seamlessly into the cape's shoreline. kraken's course takes him west still, from dangerous drop of the bluff and into the crystalline and near-pristine shores of the cape.

with him, the cairn takes no excess food. loathe as he is to waste what he does not eat, he has no secure place to store it until he reaches the bay that hangs upon the lips of the older cairns with a reverence that has given the terrible shadow no choice but to seek it out himself; nevermind the unknowing of whether it lays claimed by another or not. it didn't matter. if it was claimed then he would take it. it is where the cairns have planted their seeds and roots for generations before him and it is where he would plant his own.

the cries of gulls are heard from where they sore lazily above, unperturbed by the spradoic rainshowers as kraken makes his way onward, leisurely enjoying the surprising beauty the cape has to offer.
the terrible shadow.
the beast with a million eyes
and a million ears.
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Ooc — Me
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#2
The half-eaten seal was not left for the winged-beasts to feast on for long, because a bigger scavanger was on the prowl along the coasts and once the smell of meat and decaying fat had hit it's nostrils, it wasted no time to get there and scare away the birds to dig in herself. Norah - though not on her first rodeo regarding long and lone travels - had not eaten anything for the past two days and therefore ate her fill, ignoring the loud screeches of gulls and crows, even the painful pecks of their sharp beaks and being hit with the wings by the cheekiest ones. She stopped only and retreated, when her stomach was heavy and sides were swollen, revealing, how much she had devoured.

She cleaned her paws and muzzle, then rolled in the sand with as much joy as a kid would. Few sneezes, snorts and coughs, and then the young lady was back to her feet. She shook her coat and with one last glance to the remnants of 3/4 of eaten seal, she continued her way - incidentally - along the same path that the young Cairn boy had taken earlier. Her step had a bit of a waddling quality about it - it was not easy to carry so much meat in one's belly - but contrary to the popular belief that the sleep is the best conclusion to a very good meal, Norah did not feel that drowsy at all. 

Instead she had caught a whiff of the same seal she had eaten, having left a narrow trail ahead of her. Curiously she followed and followed, and followed, until she caught up with a figure of a wolf, who smelled just as good as her meal earlier. "Oy!" she called out to the guy, unwilling to run any longer. As I said earlier - it is not easy to move fast, if you have extra weight in your stomach. "Scherz - do I have to thank you for my meal?" she asked, not realizing that she had mixed up "Schatz" (German for "Darling") with "Scherz" (German for "Joke"). But would he even realize the mistake?
22 Posts
Ooc — torvi
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#3
oy!

a voice calls out to him from behind; the footsteps of his apparent companion going unheard in the cushioning sand and over the ever-present roar of the waves, accompanied as it was by the complaining of the gulls that bobbed lazily upon the sea's surface; rising and falling just as lazily with each ripple sent towards the shore. a glimpse is given over kraken's shoulder, an ear twitching to the side as she calls him a word he does not recognize and then asks if he is the one to thank for her meal.

it does not take him long to draw the dots and realize that she came across the seal remains.

for a moment, he considers just offering her a grunt of affirmation in lieu of words but, in a rare mood, offers instead, yes, and rarer yet extends it beyond with, are you the scavenger that finished my meal? in a tone that is almost teasing.
the terrible shadow.
the beast with a million eyes
and a million ears.
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#4
A one for a good joke. Wunderbar! Norah thought and encouraged by the man's response came closer so that she no longer had to raise her voice to talk to him and could admire him from up close. She was not new to the dating market, having flirted and had quite frequent on-and-off romances along the way, therefore she took time to Kraken with a trained eye of an experienced buyer. Das Fazit: good-looking for the gruselig-average, but not someone, who she would feel attracted to in any other way than polite interest.

"Aber natürlich," she replied smiling. "Though I would prefer Hirsch next time. So you know," she grinned. "Where're you heading to?"
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Ooc — torvi
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#5
more words that he doesn't understand follows her gaze that the cairn immediately considers of an appraising nature. though perhaps wholly wrong, kraken takes what sounds familiar from the words she offers: natürlich and assumes it to mean something similar to its common equivalent; accompanied by a smile of her's as it is he assumes her strange words to be something of a confirmation. that is an interesting language that you speak, he comments idly. he does not add that he hasn't heard it before, for it's implied heavily enough in his tone and words.

a scavenger with preferences, he draws on a rumbling hum; still teasing. though he is not, admittedly, sure what hirsch is. for all he knows, she could've said 'wolf' and he wouldn't have been any the wiser ... would he even mind if she had? probably not. meat was food; the source didn't matter, not when one was truly hungry enough. survival, for the terrible shadow cairn always took precedence over morality. stavanger bay, he tells her. according to the directions i was given, it lays further west yet.
the terrible shadow.
the beast with a million eyes
and a million ears.
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#6
"Ze verrrry best," Norah smirked and feigned a horrible German accent. She knew by the way the young man spoke that she could have called him an "Arschloch" or "Schlampe" and he would have told her the same thing. Though the thing with swearwords in her second mother-tongue was that they had a "falling rock" quality about them. You could kind of guess that it was nothing nice, even if it was cooed. 

"Wunderbar," she told and moved closer to join him. Not that she considered at any point that her company might be unwelcome. "Lead the way!"