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 Posted: Tue Aug 25, 2009 2:54 pm
 Dark paws trod upon the uneven ground as Cayeilth worked her way through the dense forest growth. The temptation to lay amongst the trees weighed heavily upon the female as more and more of the landscape passed by. It had been so long since she had rested last and both her body and mind were growing wearing of the endless movement. Oh when was the last time she had sat down? Surely she had slept last night, but the mind numbing throb of her brain seemed to suggest otherwise. In all honesty, she couldn't remember.
A low groan emitted from the female's maw as what was supposed to be an evasive manuever around a rather bulky root caused her forepaws to sink slowly into a puddle of mud. Great, now even the cosmos were out to get here. Eyes cast around for a place to rid herself of the slimey substance, landing on a fallen log, the moss on the side would do quite nicely. Cayeilth sunk back onto her hind legs and pushed off, landing defly upon the organic ruin.
"Goddamned mud." She muttered darkly to herself before settling into seated position. "I mind my own business, what on earth did I do to deserve this?" Of course, a little bit of mud was not the worst thing that could happen to a wolf, but it was the icing on the day's metaphorical cake. Well, at least she was sitting now, perhaps it was time for a small break.
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Posted: Tue Aug 25, 2009 3:19 pm
 It might have rained buckets. It might have been muddier, slippier, more watery (how nasty!). It might have washed out scents and blinded him more through his endeavor. But still, he had done it: he had for once and finally caught his first meal on his own, and the plump pale hare was now dangled from his mouth to show for his effort - absolutely exquisite! Not a dark day could have weighed upon the vagabond's brow with the accomplishment under his belt, yet it took only one thing to ruin it all -
- Hurriedly, anxiously went Denzel through the forest, mouth full of hare but nose not full of the scent he longed for. The wooden heart was gone, the colored circles and vine taken from his neck! Where, where, where?! These were the very woods one year ago where he had almost died - though Denzel was not too aware of the fact - the very woods in which he had been taken in rather than left alone to die. And now here it was on a day he could have celebrated and at last try the funny movement of smiling, and he had to have gone and lost a most precious object.
Precious why? The young adult had no idea. His memory was vague and murky on the details.
As it was, the wooden heart's scent was eventually picked up through much backtracking, though it left him at ends. There was the necklace now, hanging by a small jut of a rotting log's edge over a pool of deep mud. And as his luck would have it, perched upon said log would happen to be another wolf whose most minute movements would send his beloved belonging to the sullied ground; never would the thought pass him to even think of such a thing. But if he left his food on the ground, his prey could also become prey for someone else like this sullen figure. Who was to say that she was alone?
But he needed his heart back more than anything . . . So Denzel did the best compromise he could manage and made a soft whine sound, hoping that it wouldn't startle the wolf and send the pendant into the mud accidentally.
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Posted: Sun Sep 13, 2009 8:56 am
A soft whine reached the female's ears and she looked up lazily from her paws to see her intruder. Had she had eyebrows they would have arched upwards incredulously. "Can I help you?" Her voice was harsh, reflecting her weariness in every syllable. "If you've got something to say, just say it?"
Cayel readjusted herself on the rock, folding her muddy paws infront of her and resting her head upon them. Wasn't like she could get any dirtier than she already was. In fact, the mud had already covered most of her symmetrical features, including the only abnormality on her left paw. "Seriously, out with it. I haven't got all day."
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Posted: Sun Sep 13, 2009 9:40 am
No! The heart's string edged closer to the end of the protrusion when the wolf shifted herself, making Denzel's real heart stop. Any more movement, and it would be sent into the mud. He had to do . . . do something, not the thing he wanted, but had to. Had to . . . had to . . . His stomach protested the idea of giving up his meal in exchange for anything, but this was his second heart he was talking about! He needed it more than he needed his food. Food could be replaceable; but not the pendant.
Thus, with much reluctance and another softer whine, Denzel laid his freshly killed hare down and nudged it forward, wetting his lips to speak in a deep, slow voice. "Stay . . . Heart on edge. I get it, you get food. No mud." He began to inch closer, crouched as if to make himself smaller - hard to do, being a vagabond of strangely large girth and height, and certainly with no grace to his movements as his paws began to sink in the mud. It was far deeper than he thought previously. "Stay . . ."
Odd. Now the mud crept to about halfway up his legs, slowing him considerably. Denzel heard sucking sounds the further he padded in, but it didn't matter. Stretching his neck out cautiously, carefully, painfully, his lips parted and delicately gripped the string within his teeth. Safe! Relief flooded through him as he muttered, "No mud . . ." and pulled it away from the rotten log.
And then when he tried to turn around he found himself quite stuck in place. Whoops.
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Posted: Tue Sep 15, 2009 9:37 pm
A dark frown worked it's way across the female's maw, turning the corner's downward, had this male just issued her an order? Closer inspection of the newcomers demeanor showed no signs of authority. In fact, if Caye wasn't mistaken, the male seemed rather distraught. This realization only deepened her frown. "Excuse me?" What could be making this male so upset? She pieced his broken English together carefully, as if constructing an elaborate puzzle. It really wasn't difficult to decipher the simplistic sentences, but it caught Caye off guard when she saw the pendent dangling mere inches above the muddy mess of a ground.
"Oh..." Was really all that managed to escape her as she watched him carefully move to retrieve the bauble. "You're pendant." She sat as stock still as she could so that the male's precious heart wouldn't fall on her account. And when the stranger finally succeeded in his recovery mission an odd swell of satisfaction filled Cayeilth.
The satisfaction disappeared as quickly as he had come when the two of them realized that Denzel was stuck in the mud. "Well at least you save your heart." She said bemusedly, simply watching the male. She could go to his rescue, or watch him sort his way out. The latter of the options seemed like the more enjoyable at the moment.
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Posted: Wed Sep 16, 2009 2:44 pm
Yes . . . yes, at least he did. But at the cost of his stomach and now, well, his mobile freedom too. He struggled this way and that, but the mud's hold upon him was tenacious, even gurgling chuckles when he strained. Denzel's efforts only managed him to free one paw, but the moment of relif was brief once he accidentally set it right back down to try and step forward. Sighing a little, the sickly-looking wolf tossed his head back and looped the pendant once more around his neck so that his mouth was free. He looked longingly at the hare for several seconds before turning his gaze upon the stranger, pleading.
"Saved . . . to fail . . . again. But." His ears drooped a little. "Hare yours. Like promise. Go eat. I get out." Several more sucking sounds occured as he tilted this way and that, risking getting utterly engulfed in the muddy pit rather than being freed from it. Where was a tree vine, or a branch, or something to cling to when one needed it? "Will . . . will, get out," Denzel affirmed again, not sounding hopeless but determined, resigned even with the knowledge that eventually he would get freed, right? With time. "With time . . ." But would it be enough? "Must. Mother . . . Mother misses . . ."
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Posted: Fri Oct 09, 2009 8:04 am
Caye watched the wolf struggle with some amount of amusement, daring to giggle when the mud did. "You're not going to get out like that." She chided, adjusting herself on her log to watch from a more comfortable angle. But something in the male's eyes halted her laughter. It tug at her heartstrings and before she knew it she had descended from the log and trotted off into the forest. She returned with a length stick clasped firmly between her teeth.
"No, I don't want your hare, you caught it." She mumbled through the stick in her mouth. "Just grab hold and quit flailing about like an idiot."
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Posted: Tue Nov 03, 2009 3:48 pm
What was . . . "flailing"? Was it the same as "getting out"? It didn't sound like a nice word, though, not the way she said it . . . Ah, but she came with a stick! Stick meant freedom. Stick meant less mud, more time to get home, mother! Home, home too . . . Or it'd be "would-be" home. He needed to return back sometime soon. Would they miss him? He missed Sati's sweet nature already; so motherly, like Blithra. Did Quinn? He didn't miss Quinn as much . . .
Oh, stick! Denzel stretched his head out as far as his neck would allow him, straining against the thick hold of mud until at last his teeth caught into the bark. The male had never realized it, but wood tasted rather nice. Denzel had always like trees for some reason, and it affirmed his love for them when he could find even their bark appetizing. Such peaceable thoughts floating about in his head, he tugged firmly and began to struggle out.
Why wouldn't she take the hare, though? He gave her permission for saving his wooden heart after all. And she had even laughed a little at him, which although he didn't enjoy specifically because of his position, it was . . . a nice sound. Denzel wasn't used to hearing laughter, barely knew what the word meant in fact. Blithra was not one of many chuckles, and certainly neither was her oversized adopted son who had social problems as it was. Happiness? He supposed he knew what that was like too, in a small sense of the general word. He knew safety, togetherness. Was that why she laughed? It made so little sense . . . Mud wasn't funny or loving, but it sure was clingy.
Yet the giggles were such an endearing sound in his ears, so he allowed it without thinking too badly for her; such a hopeful sound, such a feather sound. Eventually Denzel was hauled out of the mud, body half-coated in the brown gunk and even dripping as he hastily stepped away from the seemingly bottomless pit. The vagabond dipped his head in gratitude. "Thank . . . you. Did. Not. Need save. Or laugh." But it wasn't spoken of in defense of himself and his previously embarassing position, but almost in curiousity. Without thinking, he cleaned his lips of mud and swallowed; perhaps that would stop the growling in his stomach. "Must thank. Somehow . . . somehow. Hare still yours. Please," - was that the word? - "please eat. Denzel grateful."
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Posted: Sun Feb 14, 2010 6:50 am
Her body went taunt as every muscle strained to keep the stick steady. Inch by inch the poor male seemed to emerge from the sticky goo like a monster rising from the depths of a lake. Even with jaws locked firmly around the stick she couldn't help but chuckle. She felt bad for the poor soul, but he was such a sight; a large male clinging to the edge of the stick, fur matted by unquantifiable amounts of mud, it was just too much for her.
However, when he finally made it free of the binding substance she allowed her laughter to die down out of respect. She didn't want him to think she was being a bully. Not that she usually cared what she thought, but somehow she was afraid this male might be more sensitive than usual. "You're welcome." Her usually harsh tone was softer than normal, quizzical even as she studied his broken English once more. "I certainly couldn't stand by and watch you struggle...As amusing as it was.
The female gave a great roll of her yellow eyes, "You don't need to thank me, it's not like I saved your life or anything. Geez what was with this male. "I'm not eating your catch. You caught. You eat." She offered him a fleeting smile, "Thanks for the offer though slick."
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Posted: Sun Feb 14, 2010 1:14 pm
"Did save," Denzel insisted with another nod, mud dripping off his chin from the movement. For without that stick of saving grace, why, perhaps he would have been eaten alive by the mudhole! "Many hares alive . . . Will catch another." Spying the carcass, he trudged over and tried to pass it to her insistently without getting it coate with a layer of dull brown - unsuccessfully, to add, for flecks dripped on it anyway. He frowned at this, wanting to clean it, but doing so would involve his tongue and he hardly thought she'd like to eat it after that either.
"Muddy . . . Sorry me, miss." Denzel looked upset about this, eyeing the hare as if it had betrayed him. "Will find better. Come with to home? Momma misses. Repay for heart."
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Posted: Wed Jul 07, 2010 10:18 pm
"No, really, it's alright." But her efforts seemed to be in vain, the male was rather persistent. The melancholy reflected in his eyes struck a chord somewhere deep in her chest and she let out a frustrated sigh, eyes rolling back into her head. There had to be an easy way to let the boy down.
Caye stretched languidly, back arching as she fought off the exhaustion that seemed to be settling deep within her bones. The thought of a home off the beaten path was simply too good for her to pass up. She folded herself back into a sitting position and regarded the male impassively for a long moment. A crooked grin passed across her features and she couldn't help but chuckle, "Well that's one pick up line I haven't heard..." But she trailed off the sound dying upon her maw as she realized he was being completely honest.
"Will you stop apologizing if I come with you?"
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Posted: Thu Jul 08, 2010 8:19 am
Truly Denzel was still being torn up over how the first offer for gratitude was being rejected continually - even if the darn hare was muddy. Was it not good enough? No, certainly not, not for his heart . . . And he was mighty grateful when at last the she-wolf took him up on coming home with him, for he wasn't sure how he was going to balance out saving his life if she didn't. And from there . . . from there, that's right! "Will to go pack after," he added, completely uncertain what a "pick up line" was. Was the grin she wore a good one? He didn't sense any animosity, but still . . . He hated not knowing what things were when others did, but he hated even more constantly asking about them.
"Nice pack. Up mountain. Veeeery rocky," Denzel continued with a solemn nod, remembering all too many times what the height had done to his paranoia when he looked out over outcroppings. "But tough and kind. Like you." It would be a perfect match, he thought, and the ultimate way to repay her. And Denzel did not doubt that they might not let her in either, for the two that had come to him were nice enough - the girl was at least, not the boy. The boy was impatient, and he didn't like that at all.
He turned about to find his bearings again. Where had he come from? Several sniffs and a slowly whirring mind soon gave him the answer, and he jutted his snout in the correct direction. "Home that way. Denzel take you. Not far. Okay?"
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