|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Mon Jul 11, 2011 2:46 pm
 Song. What a word. What was it about verbal language that it failed to encapsulate the true meaning of such words?
Days after leaving the bird pair, Twiddle was still fixated on making his own music. What he had not planned on was his tonelessness, or how subtle one's control had to be in order to even so much as hum. It was a puzzle worth figuring, he kept telling himself day after day as his fur began to cling to his bones.
The day his hunger gnawed at him was the day Twiddle stopped trying so hard and decided to rearrange his priorities.
The cool of the forest drew him in, and the loner decided his best bet was to start with quenching his thirst. Dry lips attempted to whistle and failed as he trudged forward.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 11, 2011 6:39 pm
 Rorret suspected his days of wandering freely all over Telk were rapidly drawing to a close. With so many wolves missing and Rummy no longer around to bark orders, many had returned to their usual routines about the pack -- which made it much more difficult to slip away unawares, daylight or none.
Still, he wasn't quite ready to give up on it yet, not while there was unfinished business to consider. He'd provided information about Danel's newly-discovered whereabouts to the two most meddlesome pack members and sent them on their way to investigate, giving him a little bit of room to sneak off for an investigation of his own.
Because if Danel was on the track of the traitor...then Rorret could, in theory, trail the alpha...and hopefully find him first. He had quite a few questions for his old man before the death sentence was levied.
All of this weighed heavily on his mind as he crossed the forest. He had chosen for now to forego the cloak, and had left it somewhere safe. Now he carried just his green ribbon, tattered though it was.
...what was that? Ear flicking, he shifted course slightly. There was a wolf nearby. Best to keep a sharp eye out in case it was one of those infernal meddlesome Brothers...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 12, 2011 10:50 am
Unlike Rorret, Twiddle was quite unawares that he had been heard. He safely and automatically assumed everyone always knew where he was when he moved which, if asked, he would say was mainly so that Death, if needed, would be facilitated quicker. He loathed the idea of making Him wait, especially when He had so many others to gather within a day alone.
The forest was somewhat open and spacious between its trees, allowing the loner to wander between them like a snake wriggled in its S shape. The river beckoned him eventually with its glistening surface and coaxing murmurs.
All but collapsing, he lapped up the water with a fervor reserved for a cannibal having begun feasting on his prey, blinking when it splashed into his eye. Water had never tasted so good . . . though he detected an extra flavor that wasn't naturally there.
Maw drenched, he lifted his head and turned his head opposite of the direction the river was flowing. "The water is bleeding," he stated curiously to himself. And indeed, a hint of red marred the otherwise pristine body.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 12, 2011 11:46 am
Ah, there it was -- the source of the sound. Well, it wasn't Rotiart, that much was obvious. It was...something else. Rorret sighed, and nearly turned away, when the other wolf said something that intrigued him.
...The water is bleeding? Rorret's brow furrowed. Despite himself, his curiosity was piqued. He glanced around to assure their relative seclusion and slid forward like a snake emerging from the shadows, padding hesitantly nearer to the lone male.
"Is it, now?" He asked, a little quizzically, and turned his attention to the water. Seemed more likely that perhaps something had been wounded or killed upstream...which, now that he thought about it, seemed like it may warrant some investigation. Perhaps it was a female with newborn pups.
It never hurt to dream.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jul 13, 2011 6:23 pm
"It is," Twiddle replied. "Slightly."
Quite a phenomenon. He turned his gaze from the pinkish water to the new wolf, eyes trailing the length of the green ribbon entwined about the stranger. Not an object often seen, especially among wolves: cloth often caught on the natural environment, like a branch or a bush.
"Shall we investigate before the wound scabs over?" It was almost rhetorical in nature, as Twiddle began shuffling alongside the river regardless of the stranger's answer. Apparently names weren't terribly important to him right now.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jul 14, 2011 1:08 am
Just as well that the brown wolf wasn't interested in names, as Rorret wasn't keen to provide one. He glanced appraisingly over the other's markings, the one floppy ear, the ribbon about his throat, the scar over one eye. This was a wolf with a story, he thought. His eyes flicked to the water.
With a slight shrugging motion, he padded behind, sniffing occasionally at the riverbed. "Wounds still bleeding don't often scab," Rorret pointed out, nodding toward the trickling current.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jul 14, 2011 10:41 am
"They do after a while. This is the hope that we do not take 'a while' to find its source."
Between their senses, the two would eventually find that the scent of blood grew as they walked beside the water. Along with that came the added odors of meat left in the sun and the buzzing of several flies. Not once did Twiddle appear disgusted by the mixture, and in fact slightly hastened as the smells and sounds grew. Eventually, they came upon it.
The body was about average-sized and half-sunken into the riverbank, on its side with one outstretched leg and the one under curled; by that position alone they could identify it as female. The two also could see the slightest of movements round the ribs: shallow breathing. An open wound was exposed on her thigh, as well as several scores about her stomach and neck that looked eerily like bite marks; flies buzzed about the largest.
Barely alive, the she-wolf creaked her head towards the strangers, red-rimmed eyes silently pleading - or perhaps praying. Or perhaps saying nothing at all.
Obviously, she was the source of the bloody water.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jul 14, 2011 11:44 am
Rorret could hardly believe his nose. At first he thought that the wishful thinking had caused a hallucination of sorts. But then, no...it definitely was female wolf scent.
No sooner had he fully convinced himself of this than his eyes landed upon her and he blinked. What was this? Had someone neatly gift-wrapped this lovely female for him and left her here like a present? How thoughtful!
His mouth watered, slightly, at the view.
He cast an uneasy sidelong glance at Twiddle. He wasn't sure how the strange wolf would react to this, and it was best not to give himself away, no matter how tantalizing the view. Not until he saw how the other would act, anyway. Knowing his luck, the brown wolf would turn out to be the hero type.
"...Still bleeding, indeed," he said, taking a tentative step forward and, without much hope for a response, addressed the female. "Who did this to you?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 15, 2011 11:38 am
All that came out of her was a strained, soft whine. It seemed to use up all her energy, for her head landed with a thud on the ground; almost as if it was too heavy to bother with.
Twiddle, much like Rorret, was beginning to have similar pangs of hunger hit him, though it was due more to desperation than predisposition. The meat, the blood, the willingness of the prey . . . He couldn't help but lick his lips. "This one will go soon," he said to the other male. "It is in our power to give her mercy."
And then have an easy meal.
Normally this would be a moral dilemma, but for Twiddle it was a matter of order: euthanizing followed by consumption was the appropriate one. Eating her alive simply did not occur to him.
Twiddle approached the female and lowered his head to hers, whispering, "Please close your eyes; this will be over quickly." The female did so without much hesitation, her eyes already lolling backwards.
Nudging her head upwards to expose her neck, he sniffed her flesh, opened his jaws, and dug his teeth deep into her jugular. The female jerked instinctively as blood all but squirted out under the pressure, but soon came to a complete stillness that only death could deliver.
And once that was true, Twiddle found himself beginning to chew and savor that soft meat as his lunch.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 15, 2011 11:49 am
Rorret's brows raised. His cold eyes flickered. Now....this was interesting. And he had been worried about offending the stranger's delicate sensibilities. Perhaps they had more in common than he thought.
"Mercy is the greatest gift one can receive," he mused, slipping forward. He hesitated just a moment before joining the other wolf at her side. He nosed his way into one of the already-gaping wounds and took an almost delicate bite of the flesh therein.
His ears swiveled back, searching the air for sounds of approach...or for the tell-tale cry of abandon pups. That would make this ideal day even better, he thought.
He glanced sidelong at the other wolf. It was very odd that this wolf seemed to have no desire to make conversation...nor did he seem to want anything from Rorret. It made Rorret himself rather at a loss for words. He was used to conversation as a means to an end, and usually said what others wanted to hear. Without an audience dictating his actions, he found very little to strike up conversation about. He ate in silence.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 18, 2011 1:15 pm
As did Twiddle. Or at least, until his stomach was half-way filled; he almost felt a little nausea, forcing so much food at once to go down, and stood back to let his innards get adjusted to the lucky find.
Nausea swallowed for the moment, Twiddle took a better look at them female they were currently devouring. She had natural coloring, probably in a beautiful way if it weren't for the spray of blood and scores of wounds. But she didn't look familiar. Good. It would have been a touch more awkward - not enough to stop him from consuming, but enough to niggle at his mind.
Licking his lips of blood and traces of fur, Twiddle then turned to the stranger. "Normally I would be reprimanded for my cannibalism," he stated, "not condoned. Or joined even." Perhaps he was also starving? "And yet . . . I feel no guilt in feeding off her like a scavenger. Is this normal?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Jul 18, 2011 10:10 pm
Rorret looked back at him thoughtfully. "Depends on the company you keep, I suppose," he said. He let that sit for a moment, settling back away from the corpse and licking his chops clean before lying down to groom his paws like a cat. He rearranged his haunches for comfort before looking back up, unable to contain his curiosity. "Is it a habit you indulge often, friend?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 19, 2011 11:26 am
"Eating wolf flesh? No."
He was caught by the use of "friend" and wondered if their mutual meal had cemented such a bond. Were there different levels of friendship possibly? Twiddle pondered over it as he snatched a few more slices of meat from the female's chest, chewed, and swallowed.
"One can only wonder what caused her to be in such a state," Twiddle said a short while after, mulling over the sightless eyes that had rolled skyward. "And why they had not simply eaten her him or herself. Such a waste."
Cannibal or not, a wolf was, after all, meat and fur and bones.
"Such wanton violence."
He tilted his head at the stranger. "Do you?" he asked in return.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
