[Battle of the Tribes] Daily Drabbles

[Tiarana]

7/13 - Misery Loves Company - Dogrot V - 198 words (Hollyhock VIII, Murkcrow VI, Wasp VIII)

Some vague half-formed memory overcame Dogrot, and it padded through the swamp in a direction only dimly remembered.

Murkcrow sniffed. He smelled it long before he saw it. A cloying scent of rot and decay. And also...familiar. He sniffed. It was only getting stronger. He sniffed again. Then he remembered. "Not this," Murkcrow groaned. "Please not this thing again."

His pleas to the swamp went ignored, and Dogrot eventually lurched out of the swamp like the vaguely primeval possible rot god it was. Its eyes lit up when it spotted Murkcrow, and it bounded over to him in a flash. "Kiiiiiiin," Dogrot groaned in its creaky growl-croak, while it rubbed stink all over Murkcrow. "Kiiiiiiiin."

Murkcrow resigned himself. He should have realized what this kin was, the first time he met it. But he hadn't. He couldn't well chase it away now.

When Stalker found him later, after Dogrot had forgotten what it was doing and left, she wrinkled her nose. "You smell terrible."

"Do I?" Murkcrow asked. "Do I?" He stalked up to her and shoved up against her, smearing unmentionable Dogrot-leavings all over her before she had time to get away. "Now you do too."  

[Sushi Surfer]

Breaking The Ice 2(4/5) - 16. Winter

The cold was starting to settle over the swamp. Winter was here. Breaking The Ice couldn't help but ponder on his life this past year. The thing with winter was that it stripped one of all falsehoods and left you with the cold, hard truth of reality. For him, it was that change was necessary to survival. Everything changed and without it, life could not go on. The old died, the young grew old, and he had learned to change the way he thought. The air felt charged almost like there was something in the air, something different. He would not spend this winter alone as he had the others. No, another warm body would be best for the cold to come.  

[fluorescein]

5/5: Look-See- Lace

Lace was fancy word for spiderweb. Or the thing that came out of gross spiders' butts. You could dress up the word in as many ways as you wanted, roll it in flowers, dress it in crystal shards, but it was still animal product. A sticky one at that. And so for their latest fascination, mostly spurred on by Gloom's weird and creepy fascination with research, they were trying to convince her to let them decorate her with "lace." You have got to be kidding me. She stomped her hooves, something she never did, to get their attention. She started a fire that would light others in a long list of rebellion.

"No."
 

[Tiarana]

7/14 - Sugar and Spice - Murkcrow VII - 129 words (Hollyhock VIII, Wasp VIII, Dogrot V)

Stalker was usually as prickly as any alligator, but sometimes she surprised him. "I brought this," she said around a mouthful of mongoose. "We can eat. Together."

Murkcrow looked down at it. He wasn't one for raw, bloody meat, but that was how Stalker ate it. "Yes, we can eat that together. I'll just find some fruit."

Over dinner, Stalker had that look in her eyes that she sometimes got. It made Murkcrow feel vaguely uncomfortable, like a rodent staring into the eyes of a crocodile. "Errrrr, Stalker, you're being awfully quiet." Well, she was always quiet.

She scowled at him. "Am not."

"Well, you've been...never mind." He didn't think he wanted to know. "Good...weather, isn't it?"

Stalker frowned at him. "Murkcrow is an idiot," she muttered.  

[Amorpheous]

I FORGOT TO ROLL
SO SORRY  

[Amorpheous]

Through Your Eyes: 4/5

41. Spiritual

Through Your Eyes is not spiritual. Perhaps others in her position might be, but she has chosen to live in the realm of the physical. Maybe if she were more connected to others, she would understand herself better, but she chose to turn away from the vulnerability. Maybe if she were more spiritual, it would not seem like vulnerability at all.

She shunned it though and ran like the wolf she was, running from the MotherFather and the strange gift her dream had spoken of. She ran, refusing to open her heart to others and let them see through her eyes so that her strength and her steadiness might lend them some stability and buoy them through hard times.

She ran because her soul, her spirit, sang of freedom and she knew of no other way to keep it.

139 words  

[Sushi Surfer]

Breaking The Ice 2(5/5) - 40. Hold My Hand

Breaking The Ice settled down to sleep. He had been suffering from nightmares for several moon phases now. All he wanted was one peaceful night. His fur stood out in disarray, clumped in some places. He had a hard time just keeping his eyes open. So much did he want sweet sleep. Finally, he slipped into the abyss of unconsciousness. This time there was no nightmare. Instead, it seemed like a memory from his past when he was just a foal. The details were cloudy and he could not see the face of the adult kin that walked next to him. He could only hear a voice. "Hold my hand little one. We'll make it through together." Not like they had hands to hold but in his youth it had comforted him. "I'll hold your hand," he heard himself say weakly. Then a deep slumber overtook where he slipped into eternal darkness and quiet.  

[Tiarana]

7/15 - Food - Wasp IX - 133 words (Hollyhock VIII, Murkcrow VII, Dogrot V)

If there was one thing the nightly parties lacked, it was good food. Ash's version of catering was skewering every small animal she could find on sticks and roasting them over the bonfire until they were blackened beyond recognition. Smoke's version of catering was...unspeakable. Wasp's siblings were variously disinclined towards providing food. And he had no cooking skills to speak of.

"You should try Rise and Company," one of the party-goers told him while he lamented how dry his blackened whatever-it-was had become. "Best food this side of the swamp, as long as you have something to trade."

Wasp always had something to trade, so he took their advice. And they were right, but now he would never look at food the same way again. Plain swamp fare had lost all appeal.  

[Amorpheous]

Through Your Eyes: 5/5

16. Winter

Winter was the season of her dreams and memories. Her visions of the past and the before-her-birth-time are tinted with frost and snow though most of them should take place in the wet heat of the Swamp. It is simply how she sees. The winter is crisp, sharp, made of crunching snow and biting winds, and to her, that is to be alive.

The winters of the Swamp, except in the north that she chooses to haunt during that time, are warm. Her version of winter is one that lives mostly in the hunt-filled crevices of her mind, singing of a place where she is one with many others.

Perhaps that time will come again.

115 words  

[Sushi Surfer]

Tree Knocking (1/5) - 2. Forgiveness

Tree Knocking was certainly an unpredictable doe. While the wind could be counted on to blow a certain way most days. There were still days when it would blow in the opposite direction. That was what she was like, as unpredictable as the wind. It was a day when she would ask for forgiveness from the kin she had wronged. There were no words to really say. She merely bowed her head submissively to show her regret and apologize. Tree certainly had not intended to kick out at the other doe. It had been a reaction with no thought behind it. A nod was all she needed to be forgiven. She smiled and nodded in return before turning to leave. That was all she had wanted, forgiveness.  

[fluorescein]

1/5: Look-See- Winter

Winter was her favorite season. Here they had their fun. It was almost lazy, their massacre. And it helped that Look-see looked so pure, virginal and dainty in the white snow. She wore the large fur of something white. Whatever it was, she quickly thanked its artificially short life for she was now blessedly warm. She marched on. Winter was a polarizing season. It was the culling one. Not many survived, but she would. She always did. Just as she was the beautiful, gilded trap. Look-See ventured onward, little snowflakes marking her perfect coat with its kisses. Winters held her fondest memories.
 

[Blinded By My Silence]

Try this agian, shall we?  

[Blinded By My Silence]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

as the sun burns | 3 / 5 | 106 words


3 1 f l a v o r s


Everything in this world had a taste, distinct and unique in its own way. The sweet, metallic taste of flesh in a fresh kill. The earthy, bitter taste of leaves falling in a cool Autumn morning. The sweet, melting bursts of fruit picked from the lowest branches. There were thousands of things to try in the swamp, and in his travels, Watch liked to believe that he'd tried just about all of them. He had eaten berries of all sizes and flavors. Roots from all kinds of plants. Animals from all stretches of lands. But his favorite? The bitter-salt of the ocean. Nothing could top that.  

[Amorpheous]

I FORGOT TO ROLL AGAIN