|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Tue Jan 25, 2005 1:54 pm
The Denizens Of The Rocky Crevice:Disclaimer Welcome to the dwelling of Aboki and Choma. This is a private thread in which most of the roleplaying that takes place will be solo or compilations from other places. Please do not post unless invited. I want to take a moment to thank Jade for giving me Aboki as a gift and Reivan for renewing my interest in him by giving me an opportunity to roleplay him
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 25, 2005 1:55 pm
 "But never met this fellow,
Attended or alone,
Without a tighter breathing,
And zero at the bone."
Meaning: Good friend
Also Called: Rattler, b*****d Wolf
Gender: Male
Eyes: Yellow
Dominant Color: Gray-brown
Build: gaunt and gangly from not eating properly, but not without muscle
Distinguishing Marks: his fur patterns mimic the scales of a rattlesnake
Pack: None
Rank: N/A
Mate: None
Pups Sired: None
Personality: Withdrawn, antisocial, quiet, deep-thinking, easily-flustered
Skills: he is quite good at not being seen or heard, which, if he weren't quite so inept at catching and killing, would make him an excellent hunter
Favorite Quarry: fawn and rabbit
Favorite Pasttime: seeking solitude
Aspiration: to live out his life comfortably out of reach of any and all who would seek him
Background: In the shade of a thicket, a laboring dam birthed her litter of three as a lone Beta, her taken mate, stood guard. From the start, it seemed, the three brothers had been born on the darker side of fate's palm as they were denied a warm and dark welcome to the world in the safety of a den and were, instead, carried back one by one through the frigid October air to the location of their parents' pack.
The pups, in spite of not being highly expected to survive the approaching winter months, were welcomed by the Alphas as room was made to raise the three new males.
One of the pups, from the start, was not like his brothers. While one bore the rich chocolate brown and white ruff of their father, and the other was the earthy gray-beige of their mother, the third had gotten a mix of the two colorations which had patterned themselves in a most incriminating manner on his fur.
As though reminiscent of his serpentine coloration, the pup was loathe to leave the den as well and was much more content to remain curled tightly in the furthest shady corner, surfacing only to eat. Frolicking in the snowdrifts, gnawing at bones, and other pup activities held no interest for him. He, likewise, was found to have a very volitile temper toward others who came too near, and left several older pups nursing bitten ears or faces.
His mother, in an effort to quell the whispers of the pack, had called him Aboki, meaning 'good friend' as though an amiable title may likewise bring out an amiable nature. The others, however, already had a name for the antisocial pup -- Rattler.
No more than a month old and Aboki was full-aware that he was an outcast in his own pack. Though he was never actively shunned nor mocked, he wanted nothing to do with the others and they likewise wanted nothing to do with him. Even the facade of enjoying his family's company was becoming a weary task...his eldest brother was showing an aptitude for hunting while the middle pup had already developed a slight gimp in his walk from an argument gone bad with one of the Alphas. Aboki, however, had contributed nothing and found that what he really, truly wanted was to be alone.
One night, with no prior planning or announcement, the rattlesnake-marked pup simply left while most of the adults were out hunting. If anyone saw him go, no one tried to stop him....if attempts were made to find him, they were unsuccessful. And frankly, that was fine with him.
Aboki's wanderings brought him to a mountain rise in which he found a cave hidden beneath a shelf of weathered rock. It was, it seemed, so deep that a good deal of the winter was unable to penetrate it. The floor was sandy and dry, there was a small trickling brook a short walk from its entrance, and the warmth from his body created a pocket of heat within the dark womb of stone
Above all -- it was quiet and it was here that the pup set up habitat. A diet of earthworms and the odd wayward chipmunk was a small price to pay for not being bothered. Part of him felt, on the nights that he could hear the distant ghostly howl of one of his bretheran, that he ought to regret leaving them the way he had, and yet he found himself unable.
It was as though, in this dark passage of rock where nothing but himself existed....he had finally come home.
Reflections of the past:
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jan 25, 2005 1:57 pm
"Fighting and free
Got the world in my hands.
I'm here for your love
And I'll make my stand." Name: Choma (Choh-muh)
Meaning: Burning
Also Called: Upstart, Firebird
Gender: Female
Eyes: Blue
Dominant Color: Golden
Build: lean, muscled, and sleek
Distinguishing Marks: a black muzzle vaguely in the shape of a beak and regal green and blue markings on her back, ears, and top of her tail
Pack: None
Rank: N/A
Mate: None
Pups: None
Personality: Self-righteous, determined, slightly-obsessive
Skills: has definite leader potential, if she would stop letting her pride get in the way
Favorite Quarry: deer
Favorite Pasttime: living life
Aspiration: to survive and help all around her do the same.
Background: Choma was a typical pup, curious and daring to a fault. Despite repeated rebukes and warnings from the elder wolves of her pack, she and her littermates were often found wandering far from home to explore as far into the woods as they dared. It became a game to them...how far could they go and what new things could they discover before the alphas sent out a pair of searchers to bring the wayward cubs back to the safety of the dens.
Eventually, Choma's luck with this game ran out as one night, she found herself separated from her sisters and on the outskirts of a human camp. The pack had told her many things about these strange creatures. Some found them to be fearsome, destructive beasts that stank of fermenting pork while others were of the mind that the humans were merely misguided and clumsy, but most were well-meaning. Apparantly there were some wolves who had even gone so far as to "adopt" a choice one of them as a contact between their worlds.
The humans Choma ran across were scarcely older than pups themselves and, upon seeing that they had been approached by a wolf, were immediately on their guard. Most wolves kept to the other side of the forest...even the bonded ones were skittish. They did not simply approach campsites fearlessly. Upon noting the brilliant golds, greens, and blues of her pelt one of them voiced that she was a demon in disguise. This notion caught on quickly and escalated as they decided that not only was Choma a demon, but that she had come to curse their village and feed on their souls.
Oblivious to the boys' overactive imaginations fueling their logic, Choma didn't understand what their angry shouts meant. She DID, however, understand the stones they began to pelt her with and turned to flee into the safety of the woods. The youths gave chase and, in a final effort to ward her off, one of them threw his torch after her.
Immediately, they realized their mistake as the blanket of dead leaves and twigs that made the woods' floor began to burn. It spread out of control before it could be contained and, in a panic, the boys fled back to their village to warn the others.
Choma, likewise, panicked. All around the young pup, the heat closed in, filling her nostrils with the scent of smoke, singed fur, sweat, and her own fear. No matter where she tried to run, the fire seemed to have beaten her there. As she raced through a thicket, a blaze-worn tree toppled over, pinning the she-pup beneath it. She was scarcely able to move, and every breath was choked with smoke as she helplessly watched the flames close in.
Wishing them away with all of her might, Choma succombed to the dizziness of the heat and the lack of fresh air.
When she awoke, she was very sore, badly burned, but alive. By something that was nothing short of a miracle, moments after she had lost consciousness, a torrential downpour began, quenching the fire in the process. It may have simply been coincidence. Or perhaps one of the human's shaman's frantic prayers had been answered. Or it may even have been the force of her desire to survive. Whatever the case, Choma had lived.
Finding herself hopelessly lost and unable to scent anything amid the stench of burnt foliage and smoke, she was unable to find her way home. For a time, she remained where she was, whining and yelping piteously in hopes that one of the older members of her pack may hear and come rescue her, but it soon became apparant to her that no one was coming.
Survival was up to her.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jun 21, 2005 3:09 am
"I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed." Name: Mimic
Meaning: imitate
Also Called: Echo, Little Shadow
Gender: Female
Eyes: Yellow
Dominant Color: Slate gray
Build: chubby, well-fed, sleek
Distinguishing Marks: her fur pattern is such that it resembles an African Grey parrot
Pack: None
Rank: N/A
Mate: None
Pups: None
Personality: Whatever seems to suit the situation at the time. She presents so many faces to so many people in an effort to fit in, its debated whether she HAS her own personality
Skills: able to pick up on and imitate nearly anyone in attitude and posture within a few moments of meeting them. Is also able to replicate the sounds of certain woodland creatures, though she has no idea what she's saying.
Favorite Quarry: quail
Favorite Pasttime: playing
Aspiration: varies
Background: Coming soon...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 23, 2005 4:28 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 23, 2005 4:30 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 23, 2005 4:32 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 23, 2005 4:33 pm
The summer air was heavy with the smell of humus and fresh rainfall as a slate-colored muzzle emerged from the rocky crevice just enough to scent it. Black nostrils quivered as they worked until at last, satisfied that there was no one nearby, Aboki slipped from his hidden alcove and into the waning dusk.
Not that anyone was EVER nearby, really, but it was his nightly ritual to check all the same. As a pup, he'd often given it deep thought as to whether or not there were consequences for deserting one's pack without notice or reason...especially when he had served no real purpose in it.
But surely, by now, they'd long-since given up looking for him if they had even bothered at all. He doubted any of them would even recognize him. The downy little tallow-eyed pup that had wandered away one night had steadily grown into a sleek thick-ruffed adult with a too-lean structure and ribs that showed cruelly through his sides like fence slats. True, he was not as well-fed as he may have been if he had belonged to a pack, but he was alive.
And I did it myself the lupine completed the thought with much conviction and a slight toss of his head, dislodging a small dusting of sand that had settled there while he'd slept. He sneezed twice, the large chuffs sounding very loud in the stillness, before picking up a brisk trot down the well-travelled path of the brook.
It was about that time...the animals of the day would be finding thickets and tree hollows to hole themselves up in until tomorrow and the creatures of the night would just be awakening and coming to the water's edge for a drink. Earthworms and mushrooms had sustained him as a pup, but now that he was older, he needed more.
After many failed attempts and much frustration, he'd finally begun to memorize the schedules of the other forest animals. It was too early yet to see possums and raccoons, but if he'd timed it right, he just may...
A sudden rustling in the bushes to his left made Aboki freeze in mid-stride, looking somewhat like a pointer dog as his soot-colored ears swivelled forward. For a moment, he thought that whatever it was must have fled, but then, in an explosion of brown and white fur, a rabbit burst from the bushes and, in its blind panic at having smelled a predator, ran straight for him.
Rabbits weren't the brightest of creatures...even Krakkle and Peeve had more brains about them on a bad day than a rabbit on its best. Aboki immediately attempted to pounce the long-eared creature, his stomach already clenching and growling with anticipation of a meal.
Yesterday and for the two days prior, he'd had quail for dinner. Not that quail were especially bad, but they were far from filling. It was almost better to not eat at all than to have a mouthful of fresh meat and nothing to follow it. The rabbit gave a sharp squeal as the wolf's forepaws sent it sprawling and never once paused in its gait. It flailed its legs futily on its side until it somehow managed to right itself and get moving again.
Aboki gave chase, his lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl of determination. His eyes focused solely on the rabbit's haunches and the white upturned teardrop shape of its tail as it bounded ahead of him. Tonight, he promised himself, he would have rabbit. It was not a matter of "if" or "maybe", he WOULD. He would and that was--
*SPLASH*
The fantasy of warm meat and tangy blood was interrupted rudely as his quarry suddenly vanished from view as it ran itself straight into the churning bubbling water of the brook. It surfaced once, flailing, and then was pulled under once more by the current and swept away, gone.
Aboki stood there for what must have been a very long time trying to process this. The unfairness of it was staggering...that had been his rabbit. His stomach churned and burbled, as though disappointed or reminding him that he'd promised it a rabbit.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Aboki turned away from the brook, ears laying flat along his skull in utter disgust.
What a providor. he chided himself angrily. At least the sodding BROOK won't go hungry tonight... He snorted loudly, startling a sparrow from its perch and sending it fluttering for higher ground, scolding him as it went.
At least earthworms were easier to catch.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 25, 2005 3:59 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 25, 2005 6:41 am
Game had been sparse this evening...or perhaps Aboki was in worse form than usual in his attempts to hunt. Usually he was at -least- able to get within visual distance of his chosen quarry before they noticed him and fled, but tonight he'd not even been able to get that far. He would scent the musk of a nearby animal and, just as quickly, would hear the rustle and breakage of twigs as said animal fled from him.
He blamed it on the voice...he'd not been able to think clearly since it had made itself known to him. Everything he did, every thought that filtered through his head, he now had to second-guess and would cringe compulsively, thinking it might begin to speak again. That horrid smug purr of a voice that claimed to be part of him and yet was nothing like him in the least.
Terrible awful voice.
For the moment, he had resigned himself to stretching out on his belly in a small thicket, the cool grass caressing his skin through his pelt. It did little to slake his humiliation, but at the least, it made him feel better for the moment.
If you're going to live in my head, he thought vehemently and pointedly in case it might be listening the least you could do is make yourself useful and teach me to hunt. He waited, having been certain for a moment that this would draw the voice out of its silence. His only answer, however, was the distant chirr of a snow cricket.
Snorting, he laid his head on his forepaws, watching night fall. He very well may have remained there well-after dark had he not suddenly been jarred out of his silent reverie by a soul-rattling crash from nearby. The snake-marked wolf had just enough time to leap to his feet before a yearling buck stampeded blindly in his direction. Blood glistened on its sides and throat as it gasped and snorted, blinded by panic.
From the look of it, someone had begun to take it down and hadn't finished the job. To some, the buck would be a horrific sight. To Aboki, it looked like dinner. Wasting no time, not giving the animal a chance to escape, the male leapt at the deer's throat. For the first time ever, he felt his jaws catch instead of glancing off as they usually did.
The buck gave a tremulous bleat as it tossed its head, trying desperately to hook its attacker with one of its antlers. In the end, however, it had lost too much blood and expended too much energy. Aboki's attack was simply the final straw as the jaws remained tightly clenched, cutting off its air. With a final sighing gasp, the animal toppled to its side, dead before it landed. None the less, Aboki kept his mouth firmly on the buck's neck until he was absolutely sure that it wasn't going to leap up and escape.
Feeling stirrings of pride in the kill, Aboki tore away the first bite of meat, savoring it. So caught up was he, that he had forgotten something very crucial:
That someone else had worked the buck into the state he'd found it in before bringing it down.
And that said someone may still have been in pursuit of their fleeing prey.
"That's MINE!" a voice snarled, making the snake-marked male nearly choke on the first bite of meat as it slid down his throat. The source of the angry declaration stood between two trees not ten feet to his left, ears flat and tail erect.
The strange female looked to be scarcely more than a pup, though with the way the evening light caught her blue eyes and shimmered on her golden coat, Aboki found himself, just for a moment, intimidated by her presense.
The spell was broken as she moved again, her steps jaunty as she padded toward him on paws she still hadn't quite grown into. No goddess of the woods here, just an obnoxious adolescent.
"He was mine!" she repeated in case Aboki hadn't heard her the first time, snarling at the older wolf before her as she placed a paw possessively on the deer's carcass. "I've been tracking him for hours. *I* scented him out, *I* worked him over, what business do *you* have taking my kill??"
Aboki blinked, stunned silent for the moment at the sheer audacity of the whelp before him. He easily towered a full head over her and his mass, slight as it was, could have been two of her. Yet she was challenging him...leading him to believe that she was either infinitely brave or abyssmally stupid.
The silence lasted only a split second before he remembered himself and pulled his mouth into a snarl. He was hungry, he was in a bad mood, and now he was being forced into the company of another stranger...that was two of them in just as many days after months of nothing.
"This is my territory." he rumbled, hackles raising. "That's what business I have." And then, to drive the point home, he lowered his head, watching her all the while, and tore away another bite from the deer. The stranger, practically vibrating with rage, gave a hateful growl in response to his action.
"Your territory." she repeated...or rather, seemed to spit the words out like a bad taste. "You and what pack?"
"None." he snapped. "You can walk away, or you can limp away. The choice is yours."
The golden stranger's tail faltered in its erect posture, but remained held high. She had heard the bluff in his voice, which bolstered her confidence. He wasn't going to attack her or he would have done so without warning her.
"It isn't any small wonder no pack will have you if this is your regard for others." she stated flatly, using her paw on the deer as leverage to take a step forward. Aboki remained stonily where he was, bristling as the young she-wolf drew nearer to him.
Why was she still here? It was just a deer, and if she'd brought one down, she could bring down another.
"Are you lame? Is that why you don't hunt for yourself?" she ventured. The response was a growl.
"You trespass more than you dare, you little upstart."
Blue eyes narrowed as she lowered her head, likewise pulling up a bite of the kill that had been rightfully hers. She would not simply stand by watching this slat-ribbed loner eat while she minced words. Aboki growled again, showing his teeth to the gumline, and found himself deeply irked when she ignored him completely.
He didn't remember much of the way of his pack, but one thing had very heavily been instilled in him from the day his eyes and ears had opened and that was to respect your elders. Here he was...clearly HER elder, and she was certainly not respecting him. The growl became louder.
The golden adolescent moved suddenly, placing her jaws over his muzzle in a show of dominance, bristling as he recoiled. If one had been listening, they may have heard a small, unimportant snap as the final straw broke. In a flurry of gray, brown, and cream, Aboki flew at the younger female.
Growls, yaps, and gnashing of teeth filled the small thicket as the two of them fought. Aboki had the advantage of size and strength while the golden female's smaller build made it easier for her to manuever. Pain exploded in his rear-left leg as her jaws closed on it, shaking it and trying fervently to break the bone.
Thankfully, she was not yet strong enough as he rounded on her, his teeth opening a pair of gashes on the bridge of her muzzle. The fight ceased for the moment as the two of them faced off, huffing and snarling until, at last, the female's tongue darted out from between her lips to lick at a thin tendril of blood worming its way down the side of her muzzle.
"Have it." she told him at last, her blue eyes boring into his ambers. "If you hunt as poorly as you fight, you need it far more than I do." She turned then, as if to go, but not before looking back at him pointedly, her tail flicking as she did so. "This is not over." she added before continuing on her way, vanishing into the overgrowth as silently as she had arrived.
"It is BEYOND over!" he called at her retreating back, adrenaline still smacking through his veins. "And if I see you here again, I'll kill you! Do you understand me??" Aboki recieved no response to his threat, save for the sigh of the wind through the boughs of the trees. Shaking himself off, he turned back to the buck and tore off another bite of meat.
Somewhere along the line, though, he had lost his appetite...at least for this particular carcass. He had been unaware up until just then that simple words and association could spoil perfectly good meat.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
