Silvertip Mountain needlepoint
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Ooc — ebony
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#1
Limit Two 
the sun had just begun to fall when merrick appeared along the stone walls of the breaking. his single eye searched for @Buzzard. "you enjoy singing," he commented lightly of the caterwails that had resonated upon the mountain.
"and if i tore your tongue out?" merrick asked breathlessly, peering at the captive with a sly look.
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Ooc — mutton
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#2
Of all the wolves that lived in this fucked up place, Buzzard hated the preacher guy the most. It’s like he’s hellbent on tormenting them every. single. day. Buzzard thought they’d get the day off until he showed up at the very last minute.

They snorted. That’s a weird way to make out with someone isn’t it? Wouldn’t put it past you. They didn’t want to make out with a guy who probably had skunk ass breath. And they liked their tongue a lot. So they quickly changed the subject.

Can we not do the tongue rippy outie thingy if I shut up? This music career isn’t going anywhere anyways.
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and i know how to work the spells and charms in it
i know them all
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#3
merrick laughed. this one was witty. a pleasing characteristic for one captured. "deal." the bearwitch's answer was bright as he stood back, jerking his scarred muzzle for the other to follow. "come on." 
ursus watched. 
"what sort of name do you have?" the man asked conversationally.
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#4
They didn’t know they’d held their breath so long until it came flooding out in a relieved sigh. But another gallon of air lodged in their throat when the man beckoned them. Buzzard stood, hesitant and reluctant, and walked behind by his side. Not too close of course.

Never in their life had they felt so uneasy from such a simple question. This was so fucking weird. This small talk. It’s like he’d completely forgotten they were a prisoner here. Buzzard squinted at nothing in particular as their mind raced.

A very uncreative one, they answered cooly. In their head they were trying to decide whether or not giving their name to these wolves was a dumb idea.
this is my book
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i know them all
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#5
how tamely the captive behaved. "i've named three wolves. i don't mind naming another," merrick commented blithely, pretending to think. he kept his gait loose and open. the prisoner was left unmonitored by his gaze. the confidence he had in his own ability to recapture and punish was great.
"why don't i call you keme."
merrick lay in wait for the other's reaction.
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#6
Keme? And now they almost regretted not telling him their name, and that showed in their tone. Cause they much preferred being called Buzzard than Keme, or any other name this guy could give.

Uhh.. ok. Keme it is I guess. Cause despite extremely disliking the thought of their captor naming them like some new pet puppy, they had made up their mind about keeping their real name a secret.
this is my book
and i know how to work the spells and charms in it
i know them all
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#7
"keme."
the bearwitch's voice was pleasant.
"what do you think your fate should be?"
the merry sound of merrick's voice hung in the air like a collection of ugly golden baubles.
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#8
Well they thought they should be let go. Buzzard got really tired of this game really fast. But simply asking to leave wouldn’t be enough. This guy really loved toying around with them, and he wouldn’t give up his play thing that easily.

Play thing. The thought of being seen as nothing more than that to a pack of wolves made their blood boil.

I’m not staying here. Buzzard slowed to a stop and their muscles tensed. It took everything in their power not to fuck up his face even more right now. You think I’m some stupid, helpless animal? Well I’m not. I’m smarter than all of you and I’m gonna slip out of here when you least expect it.
this is my book
and i know how to work the spells and charms in it
i know them all
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Ooc — ebony
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#9
the creature had much to say.
merrick allowed them to go on and on, swelling under the threat of ursus, positioning themselves as ungovernable.
and then, with no preamble or warning, the bearwitch snapped around, grabbing for the prisoner's muzzle. if successful, merrick meant to shove the little fool onto the ground and pin them there, and he was more than willing to cruelly grapple until blood was drawn if a fight was about to be afoot.
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#10
That tiny moment of triumph was put to an end immediately. The man went for their snout and Buzzard was too slow to move out the way. Once again they were pinned by the preacher, this time more humiliating than the last.
Fuck you, they hissed. Blood trickled from their snout into their mouth and caused them to cough.
this is my book
and i know how to work the spells and charms in it
i know them all
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Ooc — ebony
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#11
"i doubt i'm your type," merrick laughed. "on your feet."
"you will show the proper respect for the wolves of ursus. and if you do not, i will not let you die. i will only hurt you," the bearwitch promised, single eye shining with an eerily calm expression.
"i mean for you to join us, keme. what do you think?"