[Battle of the Tribes] Daily Drabbles

[Chrystali]

Vacation
Unyielding Winter | 1 of 5 | 156 words


A slow, measured hoof fall rested upon the dry brush, not making so much as a crackle as the weight of the beast pressed against it. She knew how to move silently, every pound of her lithe form controlled and steady. Winter kept low in the shade of high trees, the sun filtering through dappling the ground and making her blend in almost perfectly, the only warning of her presence being the sun captured in her eyes.

One step, two. Frostbite shifted just out of sight, but she knew what to look for. The crane they stalked was migrating that time of year, finding the remaining cooler parts of the swamp, but this one was separate. This one had paused. This was was having a little bath, relaxing, unaware.

How unfortunate for it, she thought with emotionless disinterest as she charged through the small clearing, teeth extending for the startled bird's neck. Hunters don't take vacations.

 

[Amorpheous]

Rush of Wind: 4/5

28. Sensual

For Howl, falling in love is sensual. There is no feeling of desire before his heart has been captured in one way or another.

Sensuality is the fluttering of his heart, the new calmness that he can steal in another’s presence, the gentle sigh of breathing that matches his own. For him, there is sensuality in conversation and in curiosity, in familiarity, and in companionship.

For one so obsessed with blood, some might think that he finds sensuality there too, but he does not. The hunt is too unlike falling in love, an obsession and need, certain, rather than a quiet, gentle uncertainty, for it to be sensual to Howl.

No, sensuality is soft and still, captured in those small stolen moments when the hunt has not overtaken him. It is then that the brush of hair against his cheek steals his breath and his thoughts turn quiet, just for a little while, but enough.

155 words
already did 7, so substituting 28  

[Vesperiie]

Wren | [ 1 ] | prompt | words  

[Patmos of Endtimes]

bluh  

[Tiarana]

7/2 - Keeping a Secret - Hollyhock V - 133 words (Wasp V, Murkcrow IV, Dogrot III)

It wasn't a secret, not really.

Sure, Hollyhock and Bristletail ate together and slept together, but they weren't in love. Theirs was a crotchety arrangement predicated on Bristletail's sense of responsibility and Hollyhock's daddy issues. Neither expected it to last forever.

Even so, when Hollyhock stole off to meet the other buck in the woods, she did so while Bristletail was not around to question her. He probably knew what she got up to, but she didn't want to flaunt it in his face.

She wasn't any more in love with the other buck than she was with Bristletail, but her days were long and boring. Bristletail spent a lot of time away from their little sleeping space. Perhaps he had another doe himself.

But it wasn't a secret, not really.  

[Chrystali]

Heaven
Unyielding Winter | 2 of 5 | 149 words


Another fruitless meeting with a random kin, and Winter was no closer to accepting the ways and minds of others than she was that morning. Always the shock. Always the disgust. Always the annoyance. She was always regarded as lesser, a heathen, a beast. She didn't care what others thought of her but it was a waste of her time more and more to deal with those who thought they could reach her. Those who wanted to 'find' her.

Pah. She wasn't lost. She knew exactly who she was.

Let the others be scared. Let them not understand, let them revel in what they believed and tasted with hope rather than caught between sharp teeth. Let them flounder in the unknown, of what could be. There was no heaven for her other than the one she made for herself beneath well-traveled hooves and the blood of those less fortunate.

 

[fluorescein]

5/5: Glossbones- Food

It's amazing how often the mind can conjure up thoughts of food when one was starving. Nevermind if the hunger was a constant companion, a condition they knew to associate with being alive. It ******** sucked. He inhaled and let it go slowly. the biting cold burning his lungs. They had not done a good job of storing up supplies for the winter. He winced and continued with his research. He could not afford idle thoughts. They ate up the energy he got from what little he did manage to eat. Food. It always went back to food. They were the Skull Collectors because they needed to eat, and others came because they could not hunt, or what they found could no longer eat. Food. It was a constant reminder of the all too painful memories he'd rather not remember.

 

[Amorpheous]

Rush of Wind: 5/5

29. Food

Howl hunts for the hunt, for the splash of red arcing through the air, not for food. He eats what he can, of course, but he isn’t thinking about food when he chases down a rabbit or sprints after a bird slicing through the air. He is thinking about unattainable dreams and perfection. He is thinking about finally, truly experiencing quiet in his mind, heart, and soul.

His hunts went to waste before he joined Rise and Shine. They are happy to take his extra kills where they would have rotted away before, killed so that beetles could do their best to take what they could before they too could get nothing out of his kill.

He is glad for it for even though he had never been particularly sensitive to waste, this gives him something else to think about, something that doesn’t turn his bones to fire and his heart to heaving ice.

154 words  

[fluorescein]

1/5: Look-See- Walls

For someone near blind, walls were not welcome, but they were a common occurrence whether physical or figurative. Unfortunately. it wasn't the latter that Look-See smacked into. She didn't even have the patience to recognize the pain that radiated from her forehead. She nosed along the wall until she found a break. Her nose chipped the surface and came away red. Not that she could see, but they would. And they would berate her. ANd then bathe and then the endless procession of flowers. That meek voice was quickly changing into a stronger one. "******** walls. I hattttttte you" she hissed. But she wasn't really talking about the walls at this point.

 

[Tiarana]

7/3 - Rain - Murkcrow V - 187 words (Wasp V, Hollyhock V, Dogrot III)

If it was one thing Murkcrow hated about the swamp, it was the rain. It dripped and pattered and drizzled and drenched everything in sight. The water level in the swamp rose until there was no dry ground left. His own clearing became a sea of mud that reached up to his knees and threatened to suck him down if he was incautious.

The only good thing about the rain was that, as soggy as he was, Stalker was even soggier. She perched next to him on the enormous fallen log - in the swamp, one could be flooded, or they could be drenched, but they could not avoid both - staring morosely into the water. Her sodden hair trailed behind her, floating limply on the surface of the water. Murkcrow knew she'd remain like this until it stopped raining. Her hair absorbed its weight - perhaps even her weight - in water and mud, and would need more attention than usual when the rain stopped.

Murkcrow laughed heartily. If there was one thing he enjoyed, it was Stalker being the miserable one for a change. She glared daggers at him.  

[Ruriska]

Tears
5 of 5

“You’re mother died… last winter… sorry… you know… it was really cold…”

Watch Me nodded at his cousin’s stilted speech. She was looking everywhere but at him, as if being the bearer of bad news was the most awkward situation she had ever been in.

He only affected a shrug and said, “I hadn’t seen her in a long time.”

Then he walked away.

That day he did nothing different; laughed, danced, loved in equal measures. It was only later, when he was alone, that he let himself shed tears for the Kiokote that had brought him into the world and had been the first smile he had ever seen.