|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Fri Jul 10, 2009 5:50 pm
 Funny how clearly one can see the world even with one eye, unbiased in nature as it wanders the landscape in search of something - knowledge, wisdom, yet not power. A mere sikla outcast by a pack he could not even remember, the eccentric one dubbed Twiddle found himself, as was usual, wandering aimlessly in the late summer afternoon, the sun dipping down into the seamlessly smooth horizon behind him. The land was bathed in warm hues of the great circle's light, yet the skeletal one did not appreciate the bestowed beauty from the sky, but rather on more practical things:
Namely, where was food to be had? Hunting was a skill even pups knew, yet he was at best an amateur in the endeavor; not a healthy fact. More importantly, he sought water and, with ears raised and swivelling, he attempted to located a source, any size, of the life-keeping drink to sustain him yet another day in his wearisome travels. Yet all he saw before him were plains levelling out into dozens of close-knit trees, and all he heard beyond his haggard breaths were distant sounds of birds. A quiet, isolated entrance to this new land; how fitting.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 11, 2009 9:37 pm
 Jet bounded across the plains near the forest, tounge lolling, ears laid back, and excited yips errupting occasionally from his lips. His prey was straight ahead, and he was determined to get it. He stumbled often on the uneven ground, as he was reluctant to lose sight of it for even a moment, but he was still gaining on it.
It went this way and that and Jet followed it with earnest. Soon, he pounced, and caught it under his paws. He snatched it up into his mouth and shook his head vigorously to stop its senseless struggle. When he finally decided it was dead, he dropped it and gave a squeaky howl of victory before playing with his prize: a limp butterfly.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jul 16, 2009 11:01 am
Aah, the excesses of youth and its abounding energy - how quickly new life like a pup can crush another helpless creature's life in its revelry. Blinking, Twiddle watched as the pup snatched the insect, pinned it to the ground, and all at once began to manipulate the now dead thing with no consequence of his hapiness. Ghostlike, the sikla shifted his direction towards this young hunter in hopes of being led to water. "A moment of your time?" he asked.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jul 16, 2009 6:59 pm
Jet looked up from the dismembered butterfly at the larger male before him. He squinted even more to see the tall male's face, wondering how he got the scars over his eyes and his floppy ear. His dyes looked interesting, too, and Jet wondered what others found so attractive about them.
"Sure." he said, now taking interest in the fur atop the male's head, which was much more pronounced than his own. "What'cha need?" He looked down at his butterfly and shifted over it protectively. "You can't have my prey though. I killed it." he said proudly and defiantly, as if daring the other to claim he had lied. He didn't like it when other Varg said he lied just because they thought he was incapable of doing certain things.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 31, 2009 7:28 pm
"Directions," was the simplest answer he could give the whelp, because Twiddle was very sure this one did not mean to pry in the horrendously large vault of questions within his mind, pried open by certain words, appearances, inquiries, events . . . Twiddle glanced at the butterfly without much expression, never finding bugs too tasty, nor amusement that the little one would be so protective of it. "Your prey is yours to keep. But may I ask where I am? This is foreign land to me."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 01, 2009 3:03 pm
Jet, glad that the male seemed to believe him but wary with the male's lack of care for his butterfly, stayed where he was, lest it was a ruse of sorts. Large strangers with a floppy ear or two. You never knew what they'd try to do Dragging the butterfly closer to himself and trying to be subtle about it (yet failing), he quirked an ear and replied.
"We're in the lands beyond the forest, of course." he said, referring to the whole of Transylvania. He smiled, pleased with himself, assuming that was the type of answer the male was looking for.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Aug 01, 2009 3:54 pm
Beyond the forest was something he indeed knew already, but in the least the pup indulged him. Somewhat. "Is there a name for this 'lands beyond the forest'?" Twiddle then went on to ask, patient despite the protests of his stomach. He was a bony-framed sikla to the sight, the strange markings upon his brown pelt suggesting that he was not from here but from a more primal territory - or had known a dye maker once? If so, the dyes were so precise, so ingrained into the fur, that it was hard to tell if they were even there at all by a paw's work or if the stranger was simply born weird.
Regardless. The mental discourse on his own origins distracted Twiddle enough to note belatedly the strange eye colors of the young one. "And is there but one eye between us?" he inquired for his own curiosity's sake, for it seemed that the other's were the same silver as found in Twiddle's blinded eye.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 03, 2009 7:07 pm
"Well, no, that's pretty much it." Jet said, leaving his butterfly unguarded for a moment as he pawed at an ear. "But we can name it if you want." he said excitedly, looking up at the male. He tail waved wildly at the idea as he ran through possible names in his mind and his butterfly was forgotten as he padded up and sat down right in front of the male, so that he had to crane his head as far as it would go to keep an eye on the male's face.
When the male spoke again, he tilted his head in confusion. "One eye?" he said, squinting hard at the male's face. "No, I'm pretty sure we have four. Two each, right?" he said, starting to count out loud.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Aug 05, 2009 3:36 pm
Ah, he was misheard. Twiddle tried again, for some reason being hte type to find it difficult to simply say what he meant rather than use some other roundabout way to express his thoughts. "You have the blind look about you," the sikla remarked in regards to the youth's silver eyes and strange blacks rather than whites, certainly not something he was used to seeing. "I suppose we can give the forest a name, though I am not very creative, to be candid. Perhaps you are, young one?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 10, 2009 3:14 pm
Jet wondered if he was being insulted. Blindness wasn't really a nice thing, and apparently, he looked blind, but the male didn't seem to be mocking him in any way. Finally, after a few more moments of staring and thinking it over, he decided to let it go.
"The forest?" he repeated, a slight twinge of disappointment in his voice. The forest wasn't as large as he'd have liked it, but it was better than nothing, he supposed. He was about to suggest a few names he had in mind, but became suddenly shy. What if the forest already had a name, and the older male was just amusing him?
Frowning, he pawed at the male's leg. "You first." he said firmly. "No need to be creative."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 10, 2009 4:10 pm
"Then simply 'The Forest By A Forked River Which Looks Like A Wishbone' will do for me," replied the elder varg without missing a beat, though judging by the sounds of that title he had made it quite on the spot. Twiddle strangely relied more on his sight than his other senses, ironically even with one blinded eye, and therefore leaned towards more aesthetically pleasing objects. The pup's monochromatic fur already was intriguingly placed upon his pelt, and once the youth stretched a paw to prod him, Twiddle's gaze couldn't help but follow it back. Two mismatced paws, one lighter, one darker . . . Ah, and he just now noticed that his companion seemed to have a tuft of hair growing as well.
"You are alone?" Twiddle asked, forgetting his thirst with the observations.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Aug 11, 2009 1:46 pm
Jet stared, wondering if the male was serious. It was less creative than his, that was for certain, if it could even be considered creative at all. "Well, okay." he muttered uncertainly, still unsure whether the male was being serious or not. It was hard to tell, as he seemed devoid of any form of emotion.
He jumped a bit at the question, as it was unexpected, although he figured that, to others, it'd be an obvious question to ask. "No. I'm here with you, aren't I?" he said, worried that telling the male outright that he really was alone would cause problems for himself. Problems he didn't want. "What's your name, anyway?" he suddenly asked, eager to change the topic. "Mine's Jet. But you can just call me Jet."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2009 12:02 pm
A name simplifying to the same name? He blinked owlishly down at the little one. "Twiddleticus Itinerantical Perceivial Oddiculous Thoughtling," the sikla spouted without a misstep of the tongue. "Twiddle will suffice. I am unused to company, but it is not unwelcomed, Jet. I seek food and shelter as any varg should when alone, but I am untrained in good hunting. Perhaps two heads can rectify this?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Aug 12, 2009 10:47 pm
The large made hadn't even finished uttering the second word of his name when Jet found himself lost. He wondered how anyone could remember such a long and complicated name, much less say it without stumbling often. He supposed it was because the male, Twiddle, had been taught it since his birth.
"Perhaps...." Jet repeated uncertainly. He had yet to find anyone to teach him how to hunt properly, but he didn't want to admit this after he had so graciously caught his butterfly....
Speaking of which, whatever happened to it, anyway?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Aug 13, 2009 6:29 am
"Then we go." The sun was beginning to set and would be down within the hour, so they would have to really hop to it if they didn't want to sleep out in the open at night on empty stomachs. Not that Twiddle feared this, but shelter was much more preferable. "And perhaps find your butterfly companion as well as something more substantial to eat." Stretching his limbs a little, Twiddle looked to the forked river's path and, assuming the pup would be in tow, began to follow alongside the water, hoping it meant food, shelter, and other helpful vargs along the way. |~| Unless you has other ideas, I'll end it here~ Sorry my posts were so short, dear. @@ |~|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
