Songbird Gryphon CYOA

[lostandtold]

Whispers of a Storm and Shattered Skies have made the long trek to the northern reaches of the Swamp, joining the many Kin that made it there before them. With them, they have brought another four gryphon hatchlings, taken from some hidden corner of the Swamp. They are young, but fierce, tearing the air with piercing cries, flexing razor-sharp talons as they pace restlessly through the snow. They are born hunters, swift and cunning, but also unruly, wild, and difficult to manage.

It takes a certain kind of Kin to handle one, so Whispers and Shattered have put forth another challenge. It spreads through the groups gathered at the north by word of mouth, always circling back to the two Kimeti camped at the edge of the gathering.

Any Kin who thinks they have the skill and strength to keep a gryphon at their side is welcome to come prove their worth. The task sounds simple: each interested party will hunt and kill a prey item of their choice, then bring it to the two judges. One familiar or pet per entrant is allowed to assist, but snakes are sluggish in the cold, and cheetahs were born to run on plains, not on snow; choose wisely.

Are you game?

---

This is a three-stage dice/RP CYOA for your choice of the songbird gryphons! Each stage, you will be given three choices. You'll choose one option, and roll 1d4 when you make your post. The dice roll will determine the success level of your option. Then, go back and edit in a roleplayed response involving the option and your success! The winners will be chosen based on the RP responses, with the dice rolls providing tiebreakers if needed.

Each stage lasts two days. When you post, include what option you picked at the top; bold it, put it in parentheses, or otherwise separate it from your RP response, please. Don't delete posts, or you'll be disqualified; if you roll incorrectly or forget, make a second post and disregard the first.  

[lostandtold]

Stage 1: The Hunt

Open from 5PM PST March 5th to 5PM PST March 7th.

----

In the morning, the Kin at the northern plains wake to a fresh blanket of snow, a cold, bright sun, and utter silence. Today, though, you break away from the gathering. Whispers of a Storm is waiting for you near the edge of the Swamp, watching you with inscrutable bright blue eyes. The black-and-blue gryphon at his side hisses, flicking her wings impatiently, before stilling at some invisible signal.

As you approach, he tilts his head at the Swamp. "Go. Find yourself whatever prey you deem best, and bring it down. Cleanly, if you can; you will need it later." He gives no other instructions; evidently, the rest is up to you.

The cold, biting winds have driven many of the animals in the Swamp into hiding, and it will not be easy to even find another creature out in the open, much less bring it down before it hides again. As you prowl through the trees, you might catch a glimpse of black-and-blue out of the corner of your eye; the judges are interested in your process as well as your result.

Luck is with you today, and before long, you spot suitable prey out in the open. How will you catch it?

A. You lay a trap, for your prey to stumble -- or be chased -- into.
B. You sneak up on it, taking advantage of the muffling snow.
C. You chase it, relying on your speed and strength to catch it.

For this round only, please also put your preference list, from most wanted to least, right after your choice at the top of your post.

Depending on your roll result, your action will have one of the following outcomes:

1. You fail, and your intended prey item escapes; you have to settle for something much smaller and easier to catch.
2: At first, your plan fails, and your target catches wind of you, but you manage to bring it down anyhow.
3: Your plan succeeds, but for a harrowing moment, it almost escapes.
4: Your plan succeeds, and you bring down your prey in one fell swoop.  

[LOLLI qAq]

Choice B with Bad Wolf
Prefs: Starling, Bluebird, Vermillion Flycatcher, Canary

A songbird.
The red of it's feathers practically glowed against the stark white of the freshly fallen snow. Bad Wolf's eyes narrowed as she spied on the preening winter bird from afar and she licked her lips. The twittering feathered prizes of the swamp were never an easy catch and the golden doe knew it well from a long life of hunting prey in the swamp. This one though ... This one seemed so blissfully ignorant to any dangers about and continued to sing and groom itself on the soft and cold ground.

Creeping closer and closer Bad Wolf stepped carefully and used the padding the soft, frozen, fluff afforded her. Moving ever closer she stopped just at a bush, not more than two of her steps away from her prize. Grinning in anticipation the doe crouched and in one magnificent move leapt at the songbird.

Piff!

Wet snow was flung away in a wide arc as she landed, mouth clenched around red feathers and struggling muscle. She had won.

Bad Wolf claimed her reward in one quick crunch- Then was on her way.  

[SilverShieldwolf]

(B) Moon Cloud and his lynx, Sun Fire
Pref: Starling, Bluebird, Vermillion, Canary

Moon Cloud figured the snow would help keep the noise down. Glancing down at Sun Fire, the buck nodded in the opposite direction. The lynx understood and moved silently on his padded paws down wind of the prey. Sun remembered to think of the wind, other wise he would of been by Moon's side.

The buck waited for his lynx to get in position, before he started towards the animal. The wind kicked up behind him and Moon watched as the animal lifted its head, eyes staring right at him right before it darted away. He gathered his legs under him as he ran after it. A deep growl, followed by a squeal of death. Moon Cloud rounded the corner and found Sun Fire with the animal under him, but he walked away as the kimeti came close.  

[Kesmi]

Choice: B With Honeyed Sunrise
Prefs: Canary, Bluebird, Vermillion Flycatcher and Starling

The snow was cold around Honeyed's legs as he crept through the wet stuff after his prey. The brightly colored feathered prey scratched at the snow covered ground before him as he laid hidden, watching. Honeyed waited for the prey to turn its back towards him, having gotten this close, he wasn't about to mush things up. Once he saw the feathered back of the bird he made his move. A few quick steps and he gathered the prey into his jaws and gave it a quick kill.

From how his parents had put it, hunting wasn't the easiest of tasks, but this seemed easy enough... For a start, not that the prey had been the biggest he could have taken after. Still the mouthful of a snack did boost what confidence he had of surviving on his own.

'I can do this.' Honeyed thought to himself as he trotted away from the kill sight, prey swinging gently from his jaws.  

[Excited Apathy]

((C. You chase it, relying on your speed and strength to catch it with Creeping Cloud.
Preferences: starling, canary, vermillion flycatcher, bluebird))

The prowling kiokote buck is young, strong, confident. Creeping Cloud knows that he is swift and strong, and his chest is puffed with pride at the knowledge that these traits are sure to serve him well. While his breath plumes out in front of him from the chill, a striped tail swishes idly behind him once, twice, before it stills. His hide, various shades of greys and whites, help to camoflauge him while his eyes sweep across his surroundings. Prey is scarce, the trees standing in ghostly quiet, but the buck is unworried. A target will show itself, and he will strike.

Ah! There. A hare, lean from surviving in such weather, but large. The creature must have crept out of a hidden burrow searching for food, and its nose is a-twitching with wariness. At first, it seems unaware of the Kin's presence. But then...

Gazes meet. For a moment, time slows.

And then the hare bolts, with Creep in hot pursuit. Small tracks are obliterated by those of thundering hooves, their impact muffled by the snow that is sent flying with each stride. It is a swift chase, but a short one--the hare wearies quickly, and the buck soon closes the gap despite his prey's frenzied attempts to keep away. A final leap, a crunch of teeth, and the prize dangles from Creeping Cloud's jaws.  

[Herbclouds]

(Option B With Slow Cloud)
(Preferences: starling, bluebird, canary)

Slow Cloud grimaced, the speedy and lithe lynx had avoided him thus far, weaving through the mangrove trees, and entering a more forested area. Slow Cloud envisioned a majestic gryphon at his side, and pushed himself, willing his four legs to carry him faster and then faster still, to catch his prey and bring him one step closer to his goal. Unfortunately it seemed fate had different plans for the snow-colored kimeti. "I thought this would work," he lamented, choosing to sneak up on the creature, rather than attacking the lynx full on from the beginning. Slow Cloud had assumed his white colored fur would make him completely unknown until it was far too late for the lynx to react accordingly. The lynx dipped into a bush and then another, and it was gone before Slow Cloud could do a thing. The buck shook off his previous defeat, spotting a crane nearby, straddling the shoreline, Slow Cloud lept into action, barreling towards the avian. The two creatures collided, the swan fell over, due to it being precariously balanced on one leg. Slow Cloud looked it in the eye, "good travels in the afterlife, kind swan." Slow Cloud stomped on the bird's neck swiftly, and begun the slow process of dragging it back to be judged.  

[Anhelisk]

Choice: A. You lay a trap, for your prey to stumble -- or be chased -- into.
Players: Echo, and her Feathered Serpent, Starless Night.
Prefs: Starling, Vermillion Flycatcher, Canary, Bluebird.

There it was. A boar. Strong, fast, and vicious. The sort of thing she'd need to set herself apart from the others, to prove her worth as a hunter, and her knack for tactics. Cooperation. She knew, looking at the thing, that it was perfect. As long as things went without a hitch.

She had instructed that Starless hide himself in one particular tangle of trees, a knotted, winding, narrow trail with only one way in, and one way out. The beast would stay hidden until the boar had been led there, and they would take it down, quickly and efficiently. But, she hadn't quite expected the boar to charge. Not as quickly as it had, at least, and not without being incensed or goaded into chasing her. And she hadn't expected it to be so fast. The doe took off as much as she could, making a high noise to call her serpent to her side. The angry pig ran closer as she raced over dangerous carpets of snow-covered roots, her only consolation being that the prey was getting caught as much as she was. Of course, that didn't mean it was getting any less angry. The boar kept chasing her, gaining ground with every passing, heart-thudding moment, and after what felt like forever, she gave up, turning to lash out at the ugly thing with her hooves, eyes shut as she focused on kicking the thing's brain in, as hard as she could. A wash of dread coursed through her as she felt only air - her hooves didn't connect.

The boar, however, made a strangled squealing noise, and thrashing sounds came about. She opened her eyes. Starless' coils were wrapped strongly around the animal's neck, the beast letting it's sheer weight and strength kill the thing, while it avoided being gored by sharp, vicious little tusks. She almost laughed in relief - she'd stopped right near where her feather-covered baby had been lying in wait for her to bring in their quarry. They'd succeeded, if only from blind luck.

Echo smiled easily as she walked forwards, hoping that her momentary lack of cool hadn't been observed, or at least hadn't been observed as foolish. She regarded the angry, struggling thing, and neatly lashed at it's skull, one, two, three times, until she heard the satisfying crunch.  

[Chimerical Beast]

A. Kin-to-Cats lays a trap, for her prey to stumble -- or be chased -- into with some help from Catch Me.
((Herp-derp... Need prefs! bluebird, starling, vermillion flycatcher, canary))

Cats was typically shy around kimeti, but this was a hunt, and hunting was her game. She approached without her head ducked, a gesture which she hoped wasn't perceived as one of arrogance. Half a step behind her came Catch Me, his stride awkward and not exactly silent over the snow. Cat's heart beat embarrassingly fast as she listened to Whispers's instructions.
The instructions were clear: find her quarry, kill it, bring it back.
I can do this, she thought, her confidence rising, only to crash right back down when she realized they would be watched. That's okay, Cats told herself, forcing memories of humiliating hunting failures from her mind, An audience makes no difference.

She hadn't yet grown stiff with the cold when she spotted her prey. A boar! Cats heart soared when she thought of how much glory such a kill would bring her. A brief mental command from the kiokote to the cheetah: hide and scare. Catch Me stayed behind the thin winter shrubbery and lay down, and Cats thought (not for the first time) how clever she had been to bring her palest companion along (as if she'd had any influence at all over Catch Me's coat color).
As quickly and quietly as possible, Cats positioned herself behind the boar.
And forgot to take the wind into account.
Before she had meant to startle it, the animal took off. A pang of sespair stabbed her before she realized that the boar was heading straight for Catch Me's hiding spot. The cheetah proved more competent that the kiokote today, and when boar approached, jumped up with a snarl.
In blind panic, the boar tried to double back, only to find Cats bearing down on it. It stiffened, and swung its tusked head up at the approaching kiokote. Cats dodged, and brought her teeth down on the wild pigs neck. She bit harder as it thrashed, and finally, it stopped.
Dizzy with exhilaration and fear, Cats took in great, heaving sobs of breath. She checked herself over, and found that the inside of her foreleg was bleeding. A fairly shallow wound, all things considered, and not terribly obvious.
After she'd collected herself, she called to Catch Me and began to drag the boar back to where she'd received Whispers's instructions.  

[Amorpheous]

Choice B with Treacherous Snow
Preferences: Starling, Bluebird, Vermillion Flycatcher, Canary

Treacherous Snow stood precariously at the edge of a steep cliff, the snow falling in gentle swirls around her eerily still form. She stared with the blankest eyes off into the distance, unconcerned about the fact that her hooves were flush against the snowy edge and the slightest misstep would lead to her untimely and messy death. She seemed entirely unmoved by everything around her, even the snow that had only ever existed in her dreams now come to life to blanket the world she once knew in its dangerous cold. Suddenly, Cornice’s eyes went hard and sharp. Swinging her head around, she went still again, but this time her stance was that of motion, something rushing just below the surface of her pelt.

Pulling away from the edge, Treacherous Snow prowled silently over the snow, letting it muffle the sound of her steps. The wind shifted restlessly and when Cornice spotted her pray, she dropped down into a crouch and matched the ever shifting movements of the wind to stay downwind of the boar that was snuffling at the snow for food, a desperate bid for sustenance drawing it out of hiding. For all that the boar seemed docile at the moment when she was crouched low, looking likely patches of the ground showing through the snow, Cornice had also watched a boar slash through another kin's leg with its tusks. She had been patient, waiting at the edge of the cliff until she had been overcome by a stillness that only a predator, a true hunter could possess.

Creeping ever closer, the snow whispered beneath her belly as she watched the boar through slitted eyes as to not give away her position. She had been moving as best as she could, staying downwind, when all of a sudden, a wind from behind her picked up and swept her scent towards the boar. A moment of stillness, and then snow was kicked up the ensuing chaos. The boar leaped up and away and Cornice followed quickly, only needing that split second to tense her muscles and soar after it. Just as quickly, the boar rounded around to face her and, digging its hooves in, charged at her. Cornice feinted left before clearing to the right. Immediately after she charged as well, head down and horns ready with her fangs bared.

Even as the boar righted itself from its missed hit and prepared itself to face her head on, Cornice stayed calm, her heart speeding up only from the movement rather than any excitement or fear on her part. At the last minute, both veered slightly to the side, meeting chest to chest like a pair of fighting wolves. Immediately, Cornice butt her head against the boar's side, slashing at it with her horns before lifting up to snap down with her jaws. At the same time, she twisted out of the way of the boars tusks, only feeling them graze her side slightly. She was the more agile of the two of them and she used this to her advantage, contorting herself to maintain her grip on the back of the boar's neck while getting the rest of her body away from the mad thrashing of its head.

The boar continued to buck and even though Treacherous Snow knew that she could hang on until it died, she also knew that it might take a long time without the proper grip to snap the spine or any injury to the soft, vulnerable throat. Letting go quickly, Cornice pulled back into a fluid crouch and then stuck out at the boar's neck even as it tried to move out of her reach. Her jaws closed down around the tough pelted throat, but her jaws pierced that pelt and sunk into the soft throat. It crunched between her teeth and she waited as the boar took a few shuddering breaths before going limp. It was only then, that Treacherous Snow let go. Surveying the area around her, she saw how the snow no longer lay in a smooth blanket, but rather in a crashing flurry, and the snow was no longer pure white, but splattered red with the blood that had been drawn. Crouching low, Cornice pressed her shoulder against the snow. She barely tensed as the snow crunched against the wound. It had just nicked her on the shoulder, nothing to worry about and when she pulled away from the now reddened snow, Cornice stretched languorously, ignoring the slight pain. She looked down at the boar, it had not been killed as cleanly as she had hoped, two slashes from her horns and two sets of bite marks, but she had made the kill. Lowering her head, she grasped the boar by the back of the neck, settling her fangs into the punctures they had already created and dragged the boar through the snow, heading back to where she had started.  

[thyPOPE]

Hurry Up is gonna go for choice C
[starling, flycatcher, canary, bluebird]

Hurry Up prided himself on a quick kill.

This one would be nothing but. He had grown a little familiar with the swamp’s fauna, now, and he knew what he was searching for. He wasn’t fond of killing the swamp’s birds (their meat was tender, yes, and sweet, but they provided little sustenance for the effort, and, besides, their voices were far sweeter). If he wanted to impress anyone, it would not be through killing a songbird. The swamp’s large insects, too, would not be especially nutritious, and at any rate he wasn’t certain that the two kimeti would not keep the kills from this hunt. And even Hurry Up could not take down one of the swamp’s caiman at any speed called that could be called quick (because really, his speed was all that he had for the purposes of standing out from other hunters – he was not a kin of immense cunning, or unrestrained bravery, or even especially great strength). He lay in wait, today, for one of those curious mammals with a beak on its face so native to the swamp.

He spotted one quickly enough, given the wind that brought cover for its cries. Lithe limbs, a vain twist to its neck as it bent to groom its fur; it could not be anything but an owlcat. They tended to be exhilarating prey: quick to react, with size enough and claws enough to damage a hunter plenty. Its screech was unpleasant, too: loud and unrepentant, and something that could certainly turn a small region of swamp bare of prey for at least a little while. This specimen in particular was a ghostly blue color, dappled with a brown that distinguished it from the surrounding blanket of snow.

There was nothing to be said for waiting, he thought. The animal was here, now, and Hurry Up could not be certain that it would return, or that more would show up later. He could not afford to be stealthy or cunning, and so it was fortunate that he was quick. He leapt out from the cover of the trees and felt his heart beat once, twice before he fell on the owlcat, which turned to face him and lifted its legs to flee, but it was too late – he was already upon it, hooves pushing it down into the snow and head turning forward to snap its neck. Its screech died in its throat, too, and the pain-filled squeal that was left eroded quickly in the wind. Its carcass was still warm when Hurry Up lifted its neck into his mouth again and began to drag it somewhere where he could wait in a little more comfort.  

[and be blue]

Willow's-Breath & Cotton are taking choice A to set a trap!
Prefs: Canary, starling, flycatcher, bluebird

This is not a hunt merely for pride or to prove her capability, no. Willows-breath takes up the challenge for more noble reasons than merely acquiring one of the brightly-colored gryphons, she does it for herself. Her true motivation boils down to one word:

Revenge.

For two weeks, the mongoose has been plaguing Willow. Each time she creates her artwork [whether it be a carefully-stacked pile of twigs in the rough shape of a kimeti or a winding trail of peach pits like a snake through the grass] the creature has sauntered its way in and, with its fine small fingers, has stolen bits and pieces of her masterpieces. Usually it is, to her eyes, the key to holding the piece together. Sometimes this is figurative. Others, literal.

So. Today they are going to get their revenge. They are going to capture the creature and give it two choices -- convert or die.

Objectively, perhaps Willow is aware that the creature is merely a mongoose and that it lacks the ability to think through the consequences of its decisions. It won't, in fact, be able to converse with her, or to promise her anything. Its little nods and quivers will be terror, not understanding. But she is a flighty creature and, as she builds yet another creation in a clearing in the woods, a stalwort excitement builds inside of her, threatening to bubble over at the sight of a pale flash between the trees.

The trap is set. A bundle of sticks that is precarious enough to fall on the mongoose's head when it steps inside. This shouldn't work, and yet somehow, it does; the creature is pinned long enough for Cotton to appear from the branches above, the cheetah nearly silent on its paws, and pin it to the earth.

Willow lets out a delighted screech as she bounds up to eye her arch-nemesis. It stares at her and its whiskers quiver and it refuses to agree to her terms. She grills it. She snarls at it -- a poor show of intimidation. She circles it. And it just stares back at her.

Fine. Then she will take it to Whisper, and it can face its doom at his hands.  

[TormentedAngie]

Distant Iridescence B: sneaks up on it, taking advantage of the muffling snow.

(Pref list: Starling, Bluebird, Vermillion Flycatcher, Canary)

Distant Iridescence knew she had an advantage, even if it was a small one. Her coloration blended well with the snowy terrain, providing adequate camouflage to hunt with. Her target was a rabbit, quick and agile and equally camouflaged. Attention paid to each carefully placed step, she made her way up behind the rabbit, taking care not to step on any twigs. Large ears were like radars to detect any sound from danger, so she couldn't take any chances.

She was just within range when it happened. The wind, which had been steadily blowing away from the rabbit, shifted, now angling from behind her just barely carrying her scent in the wrong direction! Drat, she had to make her move now, or she'd lose her prey. Iridescence gathered herself up, poised and ready to spring, but her first step was unguarded. She hit a twig, the radar like ears of her prey twitched and in the same instant that she leaped forward, the rabbit sprung down a hole a few feet away. She slid to a stop, stomping her foot in frustration. She could have had that rabbit easily! What was she going to bring back now? Grumbling to herself she started heading back, searching for something, ANYTHING she could bring back. It wouldn't look good to come back empty-hooved.

As she headed back, Iridescence brushed against a bush, which caused a songbird to flutter up, right under her nose. She reared up and kicked at it, partially in surprise. Prey was prey however, and she wasn't going to let this opportunity slip away. Her hoof connected with the poor bird, stunning it and it fell to the ground. "Please forgive me, pretty one, but you are needed elsewhere." The kimeti quickly ended the songbird's life and picked it up, heading back in the direction she had originally come from. It wasn't much, the coloration was striking, but still, she couldn't help but grouse over missing that rabbit. She would have to do better next time, no doubt.  

[fluorescein]

River-Swollen is only after Starling.

(A. You lay a trap, for your prey to stumble -- or be chased -- into. )
3: Your plan succeeds, but for a harrowing moment, it almost escapes.

The wind cuts through each of the kin and their respective parties. Alone, River-Swollen's hair settle without tangles. She eyes the emerald hatchling. It's almost the same color as her brother's scales. Deep inside, dark glee churned in the recesses of her heart. Finally. It didn't take a super smart kin to realize she had a brother complex.

After the rules of the game had been announced, her heart sank faster than the falling snow. Hunting. Her slinky form lacked the brute strength to take down big flashy game. But that was neither here nor there. She had a hatchling to win, and if she were to be praised, all the better!

River-Swollen centered herself and searched. There, a twitching slender tail behind the bush. Next to a tree bowing with snow. In kimeti language there was no word for what was about to happen. She just knew she wanted to burrow it in snow.

River-swollen reared back and ran toward the tree. At the last minute, she turned her body and jump-kicked the trunk. The snow avalanched on the bush and tail. She rushed forward with her mouth, excited at what her prey could be. Catram, owlcat or lemur. Oh goody, she was excited. Clamping down on the now wet tail, she shook her head, shaking off the snow.

Dismay.
It was a jerboa...
Those huge ears were mocking her.

She dug her hooves in and pushed against the ground. She slipped a little against the icy ground and the jerboa took the moment to jump through the bush and hide. She tried to follow but snow had killed all greenery, leaving sticks behind. Her hair and horns tangled. Defeated she was. Until she got up, and the weak roots gave. Tangled good, she raised her head and took the bush and jerboa with her. Wearing a crown of thorns, she shook and flipped her head. The jerboa landed neatly in her mouth. SNAP!  

[lostandtold]

Stage 2: The Search
Open until 5PM PST March 9th.

----

When you've brought down whatever prey you can, you turn to find Shattered Sky watching you, blue coat bright against the snow. In the heat of the hunt, you might not have heard her approach. "Nicely done," she says, finally shifting her weight. "But to master a gryphon, you will need cunning as much as skill and speed. Come, then, and bring your prey to us."

She turns swiftly, barely disturbing the snow she stands on, and vanishes into the Swamp, leaving behind a single blue feather. How will you find her?

A. You follow the tracks she left. Hoofprints show clearly in the fresh-fallen snow, though you might have trouble if she went over ice or rock.
B. You rely on your sense of smell, though the snow and wind make scent-tracking more difficult than usual.
C. You search methodically, using your knowledge of the terrain. There are only so many places where two Kimeti and four gryphons can wait.

Depending on your roll result, your action will have one of the following outcomes:
1. You lose the trail and can't find it again. You spend hours searching, until a snowy-white gryphon finds you and leads you to the clearing.
2. You can't find the trail at first, but you stumble across it after a while, and follow it to the group waiting for you.
3. You follow the trail to a point where it is, briefly, lost, and must make a guess as to how to proceed. Luckily, you choose the right option.
4. You pick up the trail immediately, and follow it to its end.