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 Posted: Tue Feb 05, 2013 7:42 am
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Pheonix wasn't sure she exactly liked the snow. Oh sure, it was pretty when it was coming down or the light hit it just right and it sparkled like a thousand diamonds. But then there was walking in it and it was cold, wet, and clumped in your fetlocks making the entirety of your lower leg frozen, and that made her not fond of it at all. Of course one could argue she could always shrink a little and fly, but then with the cold winter winds, it really wasn't much better. No ma'am, the more she thought about it, the more she realized this cold stuff really wasn't for her liking. Now warm weather would make all the difference. Everything would be awake and growing, the sun making everything warm and cozy out, that would be so much better to deal with. And that's what she was day dreaming about when she found herself mis-stepping and toppling over the edge of a decent sized slope and sliding and bouncing about the whole way down. She sat awkwardly at the bottom, trying to collect herself and figure out if she could see a way up from her view point. Wouldn't you know that she couldn't? Huffing, deciding she had sat and pondered long enough she decided to stand up. However when she did stand, pain shot through her back right leg and she immediately took her weight off of it, gasping. Looking behind her to see what was wrong, she saw red snow and a nice gash on her leg. It wasn't likely she was going to be scoping out a way up. Grumbling to herself about her moment of clumsyness she made herself a clear spot in forest floor and lay down, reinserting her sore leg in the snow, hoping it would help and eventually she would be able to move about freely. For now she was stuck in the thick woods hoping no one was hungry for a flutter-corn. |
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Posted: Tue Feb 05, 2013 9:25 am
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 Latcho wasn't sure how he felt about snow. Sure, it was pretty and seemed the clean the world, and it made the air crisp and fresh. But it was cold. His tentacles curled tightly against his skin, tucked as tightly under his mane as he could manage. They were not designed for such cold.
The rest of him wasn't particularly bothered by the cold. His fur had fluffed up and his wings tucked to his sides, he had no problems with the snow as his hooves delicately broke through the snow. He wasn't even thinking about his tail sweeping behind him and clearing the traces of his passing. It was simply instinct.
Latcho was happy to be out on his own. He was trying traveling for the first time, away from his parents and siblings. Occasionally he would miss his sisters, then he'd remember being bitten repeatedly and stop. He didn't have the need to hunt that some of his family found so overwhelming. But that didn't mean he couldn't hunt or eat meat.
Sure, grass was good, and fruit and nuts, berries and leaves. But a steaming warm bunny was also good. However, not eating meat didn't seem to be a problem for him, so Latcho had decided he would try not to hunt except when there was no other food to be found. Unless, of course, he found a wounded animal. Then . . . well, he did want to try learning how to use his horn to heal. But if that didn't work, he should put it out of its misery and there was no reason to waste good meat in that case.
Latcho stilled. Had his thoughts brought the smell of blood to his nose? Or had he been smelling blood for a while and that's why his thoughts took such a turn? But there was definitely the rich iron heat of blood heavy on the crisp winter air.
Whatever was wounded would have hunters and scavengers descending on it soon. In other seasons the scent wouldn't carry as far as fast, but the cold gusts and snow-cleaned air almost seemed to amplify the smell.
Latcho closed his eyes to inhale deeply. He had found a stash of acorns that morning, and so his belly was fairly full. But it still rumbled with anticipation at the scent. Shaking his head slightly, he put the thought behind him.
He really did need to see if he could learn to heal. That was the only thing that had his hooves moving towards the scent of blood, or so he told himself. The smell was too much temptation for any hunter or scavenger in the area for it to be safe for long near such a tempting target. But maybe he could heal it quickly and be on his way. Or maybe . . . no, he wouldn't think that.
Latcho slowly picked his way through the snow, careful not to stumble into drifts or make much noise. If a hunter had already found that prey, he didn't want to be noticed. As he rounded the bend that let him see, the first thing he noticed was a bright spot of blood in the white snow. For an involuntary moment, his tentacles moved, his wings flared, and his eyes flashed red.
Then the moment passed and he stilled, looking further. Something large had fallen down a slope and landed where the blood spotted the snow. He walked over and licked the blood touched snow drawing the scent deep into his nostrils. But Latcho stilled as he realized he was seeing hoof prints. Someone was hurt, had stood and walked in that . . . direction.
The brown mound had blended among the tree trunks, Latcho hadn't noticed that it wasn't covered in snow as anything that belonged in the forest should have been. It wasn't a downed log, it was a soquili. A wounded soquili.
He stood there, still. Blinking as he looked at the mare, he wondered that she was sitting there so still. Then, as the wind shifted, he could smell her wound. "You are hurt." His voice a bit brisk, almost harsh as if he was accusing her of something.
"You are bleeding and the scent will bring every predator in the area down on you. You can not stay here." Latcho realized, after the words left his mouth, how inconsiderate he sounded. But he was fighting the whisper of his stomach, straining to keep the tentacles still under his mane.
This mare was hurt. He should help her. But first, he had to be sure he could control himself when he moved, that he could help without his darker nature taking advantage of the wounded female. A deep breath would normally clear his head, but it only filled his lungs with the scent of her blood.
And, for the first time, the smell of blood stirred more than just his hunger. His eyes opened wide as he realized what the tightening of his haunches was telling him, and he dropped, quickly and without grace, into the snow. His belly pressed to the cold, wet ice crystals, he buried his nose in clean snow, a spot where she hadn't been breathing.
The tentacles under his mane pulled further towards his skin, shrinking from the cold. But it helped. Breathing through snow was . . . snorting he cleared his nose of wet ice and shook his head. For a few moments he struggled to breath, sneezing and shaking his head to clear his nose. His eyes streamed with tears as he worked on returning to an equilibrium. But snow up the nose seemed to do the trick. His sinuses were clear of the scent of her blood, his stomach was cold and everything was drawn in tight and definitely not stirring.
Blinking his eyes clear of the tears and bits of snow that flew into them in his struggles to breath, Latcho tried to see what had happened to the mare. He had lost track of her and couldn't have heard her move over his distress. Would she still be there? Could he make up for his horrible manners and actions? Would she be terrified of him, or would he have a chance to try and help? To try and learn to heal? |
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Posted: Tue Feb 05, 2013 10:13 am
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Pheonix jerked her head towards the sound of the voice, her ears forward, picking up hoof falls and her eyes scanned the trees for the source. "Oh yes, you see, I fancied my self a fall and figured, oh while I'm at it, I'll cut open my leg. That sounds fun, doesn't it?" She huffed and it almost muffled the sounds of something hitting the ground. "If you couldn't tell by my crash landing, its a little unsteady about here. I'd be careful if I were you."
Pheonix adjusted slightly, trying not to jostle her leg too terribly much and saw a large figure in the snow and realized they were closer than she had thought they were. Well they were good at moving about unnoticed...well...almost. She watched the stallion sneeze snow from his nose and couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of her mouth. "Maybe landing on your face isn't the best option? Though I landed on my rump and look where it got me, so I can hardly talk can I?" Shaking her head she watched him, still wary, but only slightly. He had after all just tripped and fallen on his face....or so it appeared to her. Mostly now she was just agitated that she'd been found wounded and laying in the snow by a stranger. Luckily he didn't seem to want to eat her, otherwise she was sure he'd been much more quiet.
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Posted: Tue Feb 05, 2013 11:00 am
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Posted: Wed Feb 06, 2013 9:57 am
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Posted: Wed Feb 06, 2013 1:10 pm
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Latcho was a bit taken aback. He hadn't even thought about names. Names would be good. If he had her name, she couldn't be prey. An abrupt nod, "I'm Latcho Churi. I . . . it means good . . ." He shakes his head. "Never mind. I . . . no, I won't stay with you if it doesn't work. This is . . . it is dangerous here. I . . . l could help you move somewhere safe. But . . . not as a condition. I'm offering to try to help, you can accept or not, you don't have to be grateful. But . . . no, no conditions."
Latcho wondered that he was being so curt, abrupt, almost rude. But he couldn't seem to stop his mouth. It hadn't passed his notice that he asked his name without giving her own. If it had been his grandmother, he know she'd have made the mare work to earn the name. But Latcho wasn't his grandmother. He wasn't even sure he was really Roma, the blood was so diluted, both by his father and grandfather, but also by the twisted tunnel in which he and his mother were conceived. His name might be the only Romani thing left of him.
But helping fellow travelers was what a good Rom would do. So, for his grandmother, he would try. But not to the point of stupidity. And lingering in an area rich with the scent of blood would definitely be bad for his health. Though if that was because of the other predators, or because he might not resist temptation, he didn't know.
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Posted: Wed Feb 06, 2013 3:50 pm
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LydaLynn rolled 1 6-sided dice:
1
Total: 1 (1-6)
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Posted: Thu Feb 07, 2013 8:27 am
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Latcho looks a bit puzzled for a moment, "I don't have a list of . . ." Another shake of his head and he takes a deep breath. The smell of the blood was starting to pull on him again, but it wasn't past his ability to ignore.
Another deep breath. And remembering that certain pleasantries are expected, "It is good to make your acquaintance Autumn Pheonix. Do you prefer Autumn or Pheonix. I prefer Latcho, myself. I . . . "
Latcho sighs. His manner was not quite as gruff after the deep breaths, but was still a bit abrupt. Another deep breath, but the thick scent of blood was not helping. He needed to do what he could for her wound then get them both out of there before another predator tracked the scent to them.
"Look, I'm just going to . . . try. We need to get you out of here as quickly as we can so . . . " He doesn't bother completing the thought before thrusting his horn at her wounded leg. At the last instant the progress slows to almost stillness as the remaining few millimeters are spanned in an almost gentle motion that belies the speed with which he moved towards her wound a moment before. One could be forgiven for thinking the movement might have been the strike of a predator until he stilled it at the last moment.
Closing his eyes, Latcho concentrated on wanting to heal, to mend, to make better.
1-2 Fail
3-5 Partial success
6- Completely healed.
Latcho shakes his head as the smell of blood overwhelms his ability to concentrate. He stumbles back a few feet, keeping his eyes closed, to avoid taking a taste of the warm and inviting flesh just beneath his nose. His wings flare to help him maintain his balance and the tentacles that had been hiding under his mane writhe for a moment.
He opens his red tinged eyes for a moment to see the snow and again buries his nose in the clean crispness. He's more careful this time, making an air pocket to breath in before inhaling, trying to avoid another snout full of snow. His muscles twitch and tremble as he holds himself back, still.
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Posted: Wed Feb 13, 2013 7:58 am
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Pheonix tensed up when he made his sudden movements for her leg and held her breath, waiting to see if the burning pain would stop but it didn't and she wasn't sure what happened next but he was backing away from her quickly, and shoving his face in the snow and in hailing. Pheonix grew wary of him rather quickly, unsure of what exactly he was doing. She realized his eyes were a different shade, tinged red and suddenly didn't care if her leg hurt, she struggled for a moment but stood up and managed to scoot back to give the stallion room.
She still wanted to believe he was going to help her, but he seemed to have troubles with something internal. "....Latcho, Why are you shoving your nose in the snow?" She asked this tentatively, not wanting to spook him. Nervousness shivered through her and she took a deep, calming breath, that helped steady her as she remained in the presence of this seemingly troubled stallion.
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Posted: Wed Feb 13, 2013 8:38 am
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Latcho stayed still for a bit longer, letting the clean smell of snow wash away the smell of blood and the red in his eyes. With one last deep breath, he pulls his nose out of the snow and back away a little further from the mare before answering. He doesn't want her to feel crowded or threatened when he tells her what the problem is.
Finally, figuring the moment won't get any better, "The snow doesn't smell like blood." Latcho thought about stopping there, it was the truth, if not all of it. She would be more comfortable if he didn't continue. But he knew he needed to be honest with her, or she would never trust him after she found out. He keeps his gaze averted, almost shy, maybe embarrassed. And his voice barely carries to her, softened by his shame. "I'm sorry Autumn, but you smell so good. And . . . "
Latcho shakes his head, "I can and I will control myself. You need help. I just . . . I didn't think it would be this hard. The snow helps."
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Posted: Sun Mar 31, 2013 8:29 am
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Pheonix listened to Latcho's words, becoming quickly concerned when she pieced them together. He was fighting the urge to...eat her? Well that was appalling. Shivers that had nothing to do with the cold were beginning to make her shake where she stood, her mind racing on what to do, until the tone of his voice pierced through her panic and suddenly concern for him replaced her fear. "Why in the world would you bring yourself to help me, if all you are doing is torturing yourself?" She let out an annoyed snort and pawed the ground. Awkwardly she backed up so that she was farther away from him. Not that it helped she supposed. There was all the blood soaked snow still. She looked back at her hoof, relieved to see that the bleeding had indeed stopped, though she was unable to actually indicate where the wound was because of all the blood caked fur. "Look, I can help my self." Fanning out her wings she fluttered them to point them out." I may not be completely flutter, but I can shrink down a few notches. A small soquili is easier to hide than a big soquili." Sighing she rolled her eyes, but became less intense and softened her features. "Look, please stop torturing yourself on my behalf Latcho, I....." A low hiss escaped her because while she spoke she had been inching farther back, to less plague him with her scent and hadn't payed attention, in doing so she had put her injured hoof down and tried to use it. Taking a deep breath to regain herself and letting it out, slowly shaking her head. "I appreciate the offer and attempt to heal my leg. But my injury is crippling the both of us. Its not fair to you. Please...." Unsure of how to continue on, and sure she hadn't done well to convince him to go, she looked away and down at the disturbed snow around her.
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Posted: Mon Apr 08, 2013 9:16 am
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Latcho clinches his jaw, shaking his head for a moment. "I am not an animal. I am not a monster. I will not be one!" Another long moment passes. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to scare you. I just . . . There is more to me than this. I will not let this rule me. I . . . I will find a way to overcome. I can help, I have a horn, I should be able to heal. If I can heal, if I can help . . ."
Shaking his head he takes another step back and away. His voice softens. "If you always run away from the things that are hard, you don't get the rewards that come from overcoming. But . . . I'm scaring you and . . . that's not good for you. I . . . I can smell it, the fear and the blood and . . . you have to leave this place, you have to calm down. I won't hurt you, but . . . I'm not the only monster around."
With the air of sad resignation, Latcho turns away from the mare. He couldn't help her. He was making things worse. She hurt more, she was terrified, and he hadn't done anything that made things better at all. Pheonix was right, she was better off without him.
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Posted: Mon Apr 08, 2013 12:02 pm
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Pheonix was pretty sure she had calmed down from her fear at this point, but it had probably taken moments for her to stop smelling of fear. Starting to feel completely at fault for causing him so much inner turmoil, and also getting a little huffy at the fact that he inadvertently made her feel that way when she couldn't help she had injured her leg and he'd come to help. She sighed. He had come to help her. She watched as he turned away, figuring it would be the best option at this point, for him to get away from the temptation and clear his head. "I hope our paths cross again, Latcho. And on much better terms."
Pheonix was deep in thought about the stallion that she had met. He was gone now, and she was still staring at the place she had seen him disappear. So concentrated her thoughts were that it was a wonder she could hear the leaves rustle and branches snap that had nothing to do with the wind. Shaking herself out of her stupor she looked about, had he come back? But there was no sign of him. Cautiously she walked towards where he had left, mindful not to put too much pressure on her leg. "Latcho? Are you still there?" When nothing but silence met her ears she figured it had been a trick, until she turned back around and saw a mangy wolf standing on the ledge above her. "Ah...." She wondered quickly how fast she could run with a leg she couldn't use too well. Before she put too much thought into it though she was gritting her teeth and using all she had to whip around and canter into the trees, following the way she was sure he went, a sharp scream ripped through her throat as a snarl and loud ferocious barking was at her heels. Briefly, she wondered if her day could get much worse.
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Posted: Mon Apr 08, 2013 3:29 pm
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Latcho had walked away from the mare. At first, he had moved quickly, trying to get out of sight so that she could move on with her day. But once he was sure she couldn't see him, he had slowed down. Not because he thought anything would change, but so that he could process his thoughts.
It was harder to move on than he had thought it would be, than he thought it should be. Something about the mare had made his blood sing in a way no hunt every had. Latcho wondered if that was why it had been so hard for him. Why he hadn't managed to heal her and why his hunger was so strong . . .
He had made the attempt, he had held himself together and not harmed Pheonix. He wasn't sure he felt comfortable counting that as a win, but it was something. Definitely something more than he could have said before. After all, he had always avoided anything that tempting before.
He didn't heal her, though he tried. Maybe he needed to find someone who could help teach him. He just had to find someone who would understand his hunger and not shun him because of it.
Latcho knew the blood-lust came both from his family and from the carnival at which he was conceived. But, since he didn't need to hunt, he was sure he could overcome the desire to do so. Maybe he hadn't yet, but it would have to be easier without others around him who did need to hunt, who had to kill to survive. Without the constant temptation.
With a sigh, Latcho realizes that while it had been a learning experience, there was nothing more he could do to make that encounter better at this point. So, looking up again, he re-located the path he had been traveling before and starts towards it.
Then a scream sends ripples through the air. A scream from behind him in the voice of a panicked mare.
Latcho's head whips around to look back. Something had happened. He knew the smell would draw predators, and he had left her, had left Pheonix. And she was in trouble, in danger, maybe worse.
Bellowing the rage wordless of an angry stallion, Latcho whirls about on his haunches. He had wandered among skeletal trees and couldn't take wing, but he could run. And he would run and hope to make it in time to make a difference. Whatever was threatening the mare . . . he would save her. This time he would help!
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Posted: Mon Apr 08, 2013 6:11 pm
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