Redtail Rise So violent a rudeness, untenanted by any tangible form.
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Ooc — Talamasca
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#1
Kinda between the rise & the grotto forest.

As they moved, with Tulimaq leading across the expanse of snow and auktuk at his heel, he called out to @Avicus.

There are two camps in the taiga of hunters, like myself. There is also a family living near the glacier further east of the rise. We will avoid them both. His strides were reaching, devouring the landscape. He would not wait; this was a test.

They moved north towards the grotto.

The shadow of the adjacent mountain seemed longer than natural due to the thick clouds overhead, gnarly and grey, threatening more snow. Tulimaq could handle it — but could she?

Somewhere within these woods would be a caribou.
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Ooc — mercury
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#2
as he speaks, Avicus nods along, appreciating the intel. neighbors are inevitable; good neighbors preferable—though, perhaps, having them at a distance the best course of action. she will never forget Ursus's failed alliance with the Saints, which had led to such bloodshed in the end. 

she breathes deep, taking in the forest smells, pungent pine and muffled earth altogether. decaying things, fungus. . .and, ever so faint, the smell of live game.

caribou, she says quietly, following dutifully. like hhh—hhdeer? or elk?

or maybe something bigger.

like bear.

her pelt ripples, aloft with trepidation at the thought.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
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#3
Curious; she knows of the elk, which are so close to the likes of caribou as to be confused between one-another.

Like elk. From much further north. He sounds exasperated as he speaks but it is the terrain that draws heavy breaths from his ribs. These visitors do not usually come so far south but, they are weak. I do not think they know their heads from their asses.

A crude way to put it; but she will see soon enough how addled the creatures have become with their illness.
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#4
he may not have meant it as a joke, but the remark earns a rare laugh from the stoic girl—a harsh, barking laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. she recovers quickly, though, and nods, pleased with the description. if they are as stupid as he says, they will be easy enough to hunt down.

are you quick? Avicus asks. or hh—thhrong? one of them would wear the creature down in pursuit; the other, take it to the ground.

she is worried that both of them leaned more toward the speed side of things. 

but they'd cross that bridge. . .
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
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#5
Her laughter makes him miss a step, but he recovers before any harm can occur. It is enough to make them run on-par with one another though.

As she asks her slurred question he slows purposefully, reaching a patch of forest that smells strongly of the prey and has signs of a trail.

I am what I need to be. He answers in his typical cryptic fashion; standing a few inches taller than her, and broad-shouldered, he has enough muscle to do the work required.

They would not have to sulk about the tree line for long either: the trail was obvious in the snow, and there were signs that something had been overturning the topsoil further along. The caribou was close.
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#6
Avicus lets out a snort of acknowledgement, only slightly suffused with frustration at his unwillingness to answer. still, it is good to have versatility—and he's large enough that brute strength will be more in his wheelhouse than hers, she thinks.

a pungent, earthy smell reaches her nostrils, and she trots toward it, coming upon a steaming pile of dung.

fresh. dey're near, Avicus remarks, glancing over at her Ulfhedinn.

her indigo gaze wanders down the trail, wondering just how close the caribou were. the warm scent of feces, so indicative of living prey, makes her stomach churn; it has been too long since she's had a good meal.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
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#7
The caribou were mostly contained by the valley hunters. There were clusters of escapees from their failed attempts to hunt however, and one such target hid itself in the depths of the rise.

The girl's voice earns a huff from Tulimaq, urging her to be silent with the slightest glance; his eyes hawkish. There was no telling if this was a healthy caribou or an ill one.

It appeared as though it had been trying to find food, yet on closer inspection Tulimaq could see the grass remained tall where the snow had been scraped away.

He motioned for the girl to go one way through the corridor of shadow, and stepped off the path himself, to make his way closer. He did not need to go far before he heard a caribou's shrieking voice.

It stood alone beneath an immense hawthorne tree, dragging a heel against the snow. Tulimaq did not give chase immediately — if it was as sick as the others, there would be no need.
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#8
she bristles slightly at his hush, but understands, making herself low as if that can stop any sound (even subterranean) from escaping her. she breaks off, a ruddy shadow, breath stilted and ears flattening as the caribou's shriek rips through the trees.

a murder of crows starts at the racket, fluttering up and away, and at that, so does the massive beast—but its progress is hindered by a limping gait.

Avicus continues to circle, cutting her indigo eyes through the brush toward Tulimaq's burly figure.

now?

it has to be now, before their prey gets too wise.
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
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#9
The girl saw their target also. She looked to him next, as if to ask permission. He felt the need to lift his lip and flash his teeth, and did so, to remind her of her place; not beneath him, but ahead. If she was to be wealda then she would be the one to give the order.

He prowled slowly, turning his attention to the creature. The girl had prowled to a hidden place nearby and he caught the indigo of her stare.

Now? He did not hear the question but the look was like an order. Good enough.

Away he went, charging for the beast. All the power in his forequarter caused the snow to crunch beneath him, and as he fell in line alongside the caribou he launched himself to grab its shoulder, to worry it, to pull at it.

It staggered on to its injury and tilted another way, giving many openings to the red girl.
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#10
soon, her Ulfhedinn is in motion, a powerful gray blur against the ice and shadows as he lunges toward the caribou. it cries out as teeth hit their mark and stumbles, and a great, heaving expanse of pelt and bone rises up before her,

boundless;

endless flesh—

Avicus bursts from the brush, twisting her body to grab hold of the massive throat.

she cannot, though, and upon her descent she sinks low and reaches for the limb opposite the one already injured, wrapping her jaws around the furry foreleg, squeezing, waiting for that bright and beautiful

crack
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
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#11
The girl was fast. Faster than him, which was impressive in its own right. Violent too — in a way that satisfied something primal within Tulimaq. The two of them worried their target and had themselves a bloodletting.

The breaking of bones, the tearing of flesh. It was grotesque; but it was in these moments that Tulimaq thrived. When the beast finally crashed in to the snow and could not fight back any further, the warrior relented. He sought the eye of his would-be leader, as this was her first kill, and he was impressed enough to give it to her.
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#12

Mature Content Warning


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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: kinda gory

they set upon the animal with violent strokes—snapping and biting and tearing. she is seeing red and blinks to clear it; when her vision is back, she catches Tulimaq's eye. 

and without hesitation, she dives down and seizes the roaring caribou by the throat, presses down and is rewarded with a torrent of blood that spatters her cheeks and cascades down her chest.

blood-flower

she releases after a long moment, watching the crimson gush melt into the snow, the last twitches of life within the beast. 

she remembers a hunt within Bearclaw Valley, a hunt in which she'd led her pack to victory,

and denied, denied the chance to eat first!

no one will chastise her here.

Avicus rips through its stomach and begins to devour flesh in huge gulps, 

a desert traveler, dying of thirst, having stumbled upon an oasis
but see, amid the mimic rout,
a crawling shape intrude —
a blood-red thing that writhes from out
the scenic solitude
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#13
The work is done.

It seems the girl is eager to feast; perhaps it is her likeness to blood that draws her towards it. Tulimaq considers very little as the caribou does down except the majesty of its end: entertained by the wash of blood as it erupts from its throat to anoint the girl.

Then, she dives for the belly and tears it open.

Tulimaq recovers off to the side, keeping a lookout as he waits; he is not so inclined to muscle in and take what is rightfully her's, deciding she has earned it, and some modicum of his trust in the process.