|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Tue Dec 21, 2010 7:47 pm
 Balios felt a little guilty straying outside of the pack lands alone. He didn't know why. He had to practice his skills somewhere after all and there's only so much diplomacy to sharpen when half your pack's related to you. Well, that wasn't quite true. His family was pretty much a constant war-zone.
But he wanted a different sort of diplomacy. The forging-relations-with-others kind. Ever since he'd first learned, as a pup, of their rough alliance with the neighboring pack -- the pack of his mother -- Balios had been fascinated by the notion of inter-relations. Alliances. Friendships. Politics. All of it totally intriguing.
And now that he was old enough to explore on his own...well, what else would he do? He had to go out and see the world and all the wolves in it!
Head held high, the dappled-pelted wolf trotted merrily past the pack borders and out into the world beyond, not knowing or caring where he was headed -- hoping only to meet someone interesting along the way.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Dec 21, 2010 8:19 pm
What the heck did they mean it weren't no time for the likes of him? Rosto was a king among wolves! Or at least duke, or summat of something similar. Something with a that, a nice big point hat. Yes, Rosto the wolf was definitely something deserving of a nice hat. And there they were, those fools, the likes of them having the gnash to say he weren't welcome. Well it was just a load of dilly weed s'far as he was concerned.
Straight rash and garbage that lot!
He didn't need to be around the likes of them anyway. Didn't need to, didn't mean to, and certainly was the much better off for it all as it were. Yes sir, Rosto of the nice hat had everything fine and under control on his own four feet far away from them all and all their be darned feets. Or whatever idiots had.
Crookshank led his disgruntled counterpart across a low stream and rounded on him just before a newly fallen tree. "Are you still pouting?"
Pouting?! He? A duke among wolves? Rosto never pouted. Never. Pouting was for ninnies and girls, and girly ninnies. Yes sir it was. Not for Rosto. No sir. No thank you. "You shut it cat, don't no one ever want us 'round. An' do you know why, do you? It's because of you. You're just a lump a green kitty cat and don't no one want that, and then they get all prissy at me. Yes sir, it's a 'cause of you."
It had been three years that sightings of one of this pair had always included the other. Never apart, despite their obvious differences. And yet it was obvious that without each other they'd be severely lost. It was due to their differences that Crookshank knew better than to ever take anything his wolf companion said to heart. He was after all just a common thief, and there was nothing terribly menacing that could ever come out of someone so down right purple.
"You're a fool. Where are we going now?" The lynx leaned his body against a tree, the better to relieve his forever stressed muscles.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Dec 21, 2010 8:42 pm
Balios paused, one paw lifted, and sniffed at the air. He hadn't a clue where he was, and that was pretty sad seeing as he was barely minutes from the pack border. That didn't precisely bode well for a future of travel, did it?
Sighing, resigned not to worry about how to get home until he'd had his fill of where he was headed, the youth trotted forward and dutifully ignored his gnawing suspicion that he would end up very much lost before the end of the day.
He caught the sounds of talking -- no, bickering -- and immediately his senses piqued. Trouble? Argument? That sounded like precisely the place he needed to be!
Another wolf, from another family, might have taken the sound of disagreement as a sign to become elsewhere, but Balios found it oddly comforting. It was, after all, what he had grown up listening to his parents do, and Balios was a firm believer that arguing was just another way to share one's love.
He was, however, surprised when he rounded the corner and set his eyes upon a pair of rather oddly-colored creatures. One was a wolf, he knew, and the other...well, he actually wasn't sure what that was. Balios had never seen a lynx before and it caught him thoroughly off-guard. Ah well. Wouldn't do to back down now.
"Well, hello," he called, giving a big friendly smile.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Dec 21, 2010 8:56 pm
Rosto had been in the middle of what he had been mentally priding himself on being a spectacular argument, mayhaps even the best one he'd ever made, if he did say so himself, when a calico head appeared in the nether regions of his peripheral vision.
A calico head what had not been there previously. It startled him to such an extent that he entirely forgot what he was saying, and in all honesty ended what probably really would have been the best argument he had even himself come up with, and would likely never be able to recreate again. His ingenius juices were damned up never to venture forth to the drought which was his wit.
For a moment he simply gaped. Crookshank knew the expression well. It appeared whenever life progressed too quickly for Rosto's mind to compute. Often. It was an often seen expression.
"Ay! Ay you. Who 'er you? Din't think you were there before. An jus' who 'er you?"
He needed to be a bit intimidating, as that darned lynx weren't never trying to help him to secure their positions whenever someone came up and surprised them wherever they were. No sir, him's was a non-contributing lynx, a big green non-contributor. "Come here you kid, you."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Dec 21, 2010 9:47 pm
He talked funny, that was for sure! How utterly fascinating!
Balios, having lived all his life in the carefully-sheltered, nurturing environment of YMCA, had never been faced with a threat. Indeed, his father -- fearing, perhaps, for his emotional well-being, seeing as mother didn't really like him -- had spoiled him overmuch. So it never occurred to him that there could, perhaps, be a threat involved in walking into the midst of two strangers, and rather he walked right up to them, tail wagging behind him.
"Hello, friends," he said, still with that broad smile; his eyes glittered within the v-shaped mark above them -- a mark which made his father look angry all the time, but seemed to have a charming, bandit-like effect on the youth. "My name is Balios. Do forgive my intrusion...am I interrupting something?"
He was nothing if not polite.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Dec 21, 2010 10:02 pm
This here kid was a down and dirty fool. Rosto would have gaped if he hadn't already over-used that expression in the moments prior. This here kid and his fancy words and his big expressions. And just who was he trying to impress? Rosto weren't impressed. Weren't impressed at all. No sir he weren't.
Crookshank took the intrusion a little better. Large head rolling on his shoulders over to where the voice had first come from and the new figure had emerged, the lynx's body moved like water as he pulled himself upward to get a better look. A youth, no threat to them. And a polite one at that, which made him even less of a threat.
Everyone knew it was the well to do wolves that lacked in the physical threat department. Common wolves were always a bit more fierce, a bit more threatening.
"Was there something you were hoping we could help you with, Balios?" He purred, the more domineering of the two.
Rosto was still sputtering behind him, letting loose a few "ay yah kid thing" and a "ay, your parents rich?" while he fumbled his feeble attempts at what would surely amount to poorly executed kidnapping schemes, which would never reach a beginning point, let alone fruitation.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Dec 22, 2010 12:38 am
"Not really," he admitted, a bit sheepishly. He glanced between the two of them, not quite sure how to proceed. He wished he'd thought this through better. "I heard what sounded like an argument, and thought...well, I thought perhaps someone might need my help," he ended, a bit lamely. What help could he possibly be to anyone? Well, never mind that. He would've figured something out.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Dec 22, 2010 1:01 am
"Help, eh?" The words sloshed back and forth in the scraggly male's mouth as he mulled them over. It wasn't often that someone offered any such sort of thing towards he and his lynx, and it seemed like a mighty fine opportunity. A beautiful thing for those young ones, so determined to make a difference for the better.
"Say you," he muttered, stepping up and eying the youth a bit. "I got a something you cud help me with."
It didn't take much to see that the rusty wheels in Rosto's head were grinding towards a much visited goal. A goal which usually involved hassling, robbing, or otherwise unsettling someone, whilst potentially leaving someone else to take the blame.
"We're quite alright, not to be worried. I'm Crookshank, and this here is Rosto. Feel free to ignore him." Some things were best squashed. Not that Crookshank would have been opposed to throwing their new friend under the bus, or at least bringing him for the ride, but things always got messy so quickly and there was no telling just how well bred this lad was, but the better his genes the more likely some vengeful parent figure would come looking for them should anything happen.
"Yer a damn..."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Dec 22, 2010 6:38 pm
Balios looked between them, completely confused now. The purple wolf didn't seem all right in the head, he decided, and it incited a feeling of pity. No, empathy. That was the right word. Balios wasn't a wolf to judge, but he was certainly one to put his nose where it didn't belong, and his curiosity was getting the better of him now. "Oh, it would be no trouble at all, sir," he said, to the lynx, clearly misunderstanding the cat's motivation for interrupting. "If there's something you need, I wouldn't mind."
One day, perhaps, he'd learn the difference between being helpful, and being a push-over. Today wasn't that day.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
