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 Posted: Sun Feb 03, 2013 12:58 am
 The air was cool, crisp, it must be night. The air, in the swamp or the desert, smelled different at night. There was something comforting in the scent of the air even as the lesser light made his already lacking eyesight worse. He did not mind so much. At night when he still felt the need to run, as with most days and nights. Tonight was not one of those nights though. Tonight the voices, the whispers, the desires, didn't clamor in his mind, vying for his attention. There was no screaming, no crying, no need to run. Tonight his mind is quiet and he walks with near silent hooves, Chase the Wind leading him with her comforting presence, a winding bit of warmth nipping at his heels.
He could smell the faint smell of blood rising from the two mongooses he had slung around his neck. They were the products of his hunt from that morning and for a fleeting moment, he had satisfied the voices of his desire, if only he could see and he would finally be at peace. Wishing didn't change reality though. It didn't change that the world was presented to him in curling, twisting blurs of grey. There was little solace in the darkness that spread across his vision with each kill, not when he was craving, yearning for a touch of red.
The little movements, rushed his senses, registering in his senses before he was even aware. He reacted seamlessly to these fleeting movement, living and breathing, moving before he has even registered the need. Movement, he sees it without seeing it, reacting in that split second that separates one from instinct and knowing. He didn't discount his other senses, though he desired his sight. It was with quicksilver thoughts that he began to lead himself towards the scent of something, deep and bright, it filled his lungs and he was walking towards it before he had even registered it.
Gale sensed the change in his intentions and began to trace the scent as well, nudging his ankles, going ahead of him, a comforting, steady blur of movement bringing him forward. Then she stopped and when his eyes lifted from her still form, he saw another. There, a dark smudge, deep contrast in the bright moonlight. The scent was strong here, so very strong, it nearly overwhelmed him, yet- It was comforting. It was so different, yet, it rushed that always there need to run, run, and chase out of his blood. It was so strong that he forgot to speak, to greet the silhouette in front of him.Jun D Ahhh, finally. So sorry it took so long to start this!
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Posted: Tue Mar 26, 2013 4:59 pm
"I wouldn't move any further, if I were you," the voice was cool and low, soft and wrapping like velvet, dusty like the rustle of leaves, "Mother doesn't like her experiments disrupted."
It was also laced with the slightest hint of amusement, kept discreetly to a minimum as it enquired, "I presume you can't see well?"oopseditedthispost Aaaaahhh sorry I took so long to reply - and sorry I took so long to reply and it's so short. QAQ Beloved. Just. Will. Not. Do. Long. QAQ
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Posted: Sat Apr 20, 2013 2:08 pm
If not for his light, fluid senses and his hunter stillness, he might have jolted at the silhouette's, the doe's, voice; he had quite nearly forgotten her in the depth of the scent, the thought dropping from his mind like leaves falling away when one stands. They rustle soft, and some cling, but they are faraway. Though he still tries to discern the smell, his focus turns to the doe, honing in on her dark form in the moonlight.
He doesn't take a step forward though, acknowledging her words and he listens to the amusement in her voice. He doesn't speak for a long moment, the words falling away from his tongue like sand slipped through the grasp of a young acha's jaws. It takes him a long time to find the words to speak and when he does, his voice is raspy with disuse like creaking, cracking, falling of old branches on dead trees, "I'm afraid not..."
He trails off, losing his voice again, and he tilts his head, listening to the sounds of the night, gathering sound from them, before continue, "What is... What is that smell?"Jun D Ahhh, oh gosh, now I'm so, so, so sorry! ;__; Short is perfect!
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Posted: Sun Apr 28, 2013 4:55 pm
There was a moment's silence - the faint, slipping slide of locks upon locks (here, she turned her head, silken mane moving as she surveyed their surroundings to best determine the answer he sought) sounded as the barest whisper.
"Mother is currently experimenting with water levels and phosphorescence," the cool voice finally mused, "so I doubt that's what you mean - though, again, I must warn you that one more step, and your right limb will be glowing in the dark for days, so do be careful. I am going to venture that you are experiencing the...heady fragrance, as Father would prefer me to put it, of our family's wares.
"Welcome to Rise & Company, of the tribe Rise & Shine: we purvey foods, especially preserved. The smell that is accosting you is most likely the smell of salted meat."Amorpheous Oh gosh no, take your time! <3 (I'm obviously taking mine *sob*)
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Posted: Sun May 05, 2013 12:51 am
"Phosphorescence..." He lets the word escape in a low rush, an echo as she continued to speak. The doe, she was quiet, like the whisper of wind through the tree, but her voice was not her faint movements that brushed against her mind in their sounds. She had a voice that spoke of calm control, strong and self-possessed, and so he listened to her. His head was high, alert, but not tensed with movement nor did he tilt his head like a curious creature. If his eyes could see, he might have been unnerving, but his gaze is clouded soft with scarring and the night hides his gaze.
He considers stepping forward, light is something he can see, it would be a bright spot in his vision, but he heeds her warnings about not disturbing the experiments and ultimately, it would be nothing compared to what he truly desired.
"You preserve... meat?" It is less question, since he had heard her clearly, and more wonderment. He flinches minutely, a tightening around his eyes as he thinks of the kills that he has laid down for he could not possibly carry or eat all that he hunts. He has never regretted a kill, he cannot regret the hunt for it is his very being, but he does not intend to waste. It merely happens and he had accepted until this point when such a simple solution is offered. The smallest tilt of his head and Gale is facing him, keen eyes watching him, a simple message passes between them, Go.
The sanddog lithely races away. She will return slower, burdened, but it will be so that Howl can find the peace of stillness for a little while longer before he seeks the peace of the hunt once again. What he intends to do with the kills they had left behind earlier, she does not quite know, but she understands it is important to him.
It is a long moment before Howl manages to speak again, but he does to inquire, "Do you... Do you take offerings of meat?"
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Posted: Sun May 05, 2013 2:57 pm
This time the silence was only silence, no telltale sounds; all movement, if any, was internal. There must have been quite a number of thoughts ticking through her head, for it took a while before she said, "Offerings of meat. That is a pretty way to phrase it. Your sand dog seems well-trained; it seems no stranger to the hunt, I presume you are a hunter. I presume by offerings of meat, you might mean so in a regular fashion. Yes, we do take offerings of meat, if they are appropriate. For regular offerings that are appropriate, we have an offer in return. That offer is employment. It may mean a variety of things to a variety of Kin.
"But I do not make these decisions. My father does, and he is currently asleep. He judges what is appropriate; we do not just hire anybody - only the best for Rise and Co." The last is tinged with gentle mockery, and the soft slip of tresses again might betray that her gaze is trained, for a moment, somewhere - or at someone - else.
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Posted: Mon Sep 02, 2013 12:00 am
Silence and stillness were concepts that unsettled Howl. They went against his very nature, to hear the rush of wind in his ears, to race across the ground, and to feel a visceral sense of life through the hunt. He bore her silence and stillness, stillness and silence, well though, or as well as he possibly could, luck stretching this moment of calm that would inevitably fade away and send him chasing after his next quarry.
He is not sure how to respond to what she says, employment something he had not been seeking or something her had expected. He had offered because he had plenty, too much, and it seemed that they could make use of this plenty where he could not. Finally, after losing his words, he managed to say, "I did not offer wanting anything in return."
He paused, voice fading into the night, before continuing with his rough, not-oft used words, phrasing awkward but meant sincerely, "Offerings freely given because I have offerings to give."Jun D I've been so terrible at responding to our rp's... ;__; I'm so sorry!
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