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 Posted: Wed Jun 26, 2013 10:19 am
 Drip.... Drip... Drip... The quiet but steady sound of thawing ice and snow echoed through the darkness of a clearly occupied cave. Tools, blankets, fabrics, jewelry, baskets, leathers, perfumes, seeds, and all manors of different materials were all meticulously organized, stored grains and hay in one back cubby while another held a large store smoked, cured, and salted meats, strings of sausages and rendered fat, as well as a few spent baskets between the two food storage's, once having held developing soquili.
The caves occupant's brow furrowed as he rolled over, grumbling as he put paw to his ear, trying to block the steady dripping noise from continuing to disrupt his slumber from his warm, fur and blanket lined den. A rich liquid brown eye opened in sudden alertness, and the massive Bearwalker lifted his head, blinking into awareness. February had arrived in the Kawani lands, and with it Bears of all types, from the non-spirit touched to the familiars and the pure bear walkers. This Bearwalker was no exception.
Groaning as he got up, the skinwalker - who simply called himself "Bear" as he felt he didn't need anything else to call himself by - yawned, stretching out the kinks caused by four months of solid sleep, his back turned toward the cold. Climbing out of his cramped den to one side of his cave, he licked his lips as he squinted around blearily, and first went over to check his food stores, poking at the spent baskets after finding the rest of his cave clear, only some of the stores missing, hmm. Seems this batch was smart enough to brave the winter cold. Pity -- the one time one I woke up with one of them cuddled against me after fattening itself on grains was such a nice breakfast..
Sighing, he moved to his meat stores once more, trying to decide what he wanted to eat first. None of it was as appealing as the fresh meat and mild flavor of a young foals liver, but with his snacks having gone he was in no place to be picky. He had land to clear and grains to plant and a flock of fools to gather and fatten.
Once he finished his ritual of fast breaking, he stepped out into the sun, his eyes tightening in the morning light as he scowled, putting on his hooded cape -- It was still too early in the year for his full costume, but it had become habit to cover up his pelt whenever he left his cave, save for the few times he bathed to rid himself of his own scent.
It was a second form of transformation, one that the skinwalker could feel proud of -- Transforming himself in the minds eye of others from a danger to an ally, holding it for much of the year, before the sweet betrayal of the trust he had gained from his now much fatter followers. He knew himself to be more clever than others of hie species, even more so than that of his twin, having made it so his prey came to him, fattened themselves up, and did most of the work for him before they were lead to the slaughter and gave him the luxury of simply hibernating in the winter than having to continue hunting and fighting. Turning himself from Bear the Skinwalker to Bear The "poor unfortunate mutant, savior of the innocent".
And the one who savors their last breath and the rich meal they make
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Posted: Thu Jun 27, 2013 8:33 pm
 Heading down away from his cave, the purewalker headed for the river to bathe himself, wishing to wash away the strong accumulated scent of his own natural odor that gave himself away as a Purewalker so he could begin truly dawning his disguise, his full costume bundled and tossed across his shoulders in a leather sling, away from his skin and fur by multiple layers so to avoid it picking up his scent. These moments of exposure were necessary risks for his plans to fruit as they had been. And this year, he wanted to get an early start -- it was his goal to amass a larger flock than ever.
The fact he could lead so many to stay willingly for most of the year, working for him and making him things as they sat around on their fat rumps and gorged on rich foods, the wool so happily pulled over their eyes until they downed their last meal, and drifted off to a drugged sleep, spiked with Underworld herbs, and were dragged off to his pens for slaughter. Some slept peacefully till they died but others...The fear was so savory that this time, oh this time, he wanted to make as many suffer, have them watch him feast on the livers of friendships and lovers who's relationships had blossomed in lazy, gluttonous luxury, unable to fight back due to months of inactivity and food.
He wanted to draw it out this year. Celebrate Ten successful years of his plan, and have a feast he'll always remember.
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Posted: Thu Jun 27, 2013 9:01 pm
However, as the stallion headed down the river, blue eyes watched him with a wicked gleam as a smile formed on their owners lips, baring sharp teeth.
As soon as he was out of sight, the stallions twin sister came out of hiding, her stomach growling hungrily -- unlike her brother, she regularly hunted for her meals, and much to her disdain this year had been lean, resulting in her being unable to store enough fat to properly hibernate. Instead, she had spent the winter trying to find her brothers haunt between snacks made out hibernating animals buried in the snow (Having even raided a familiar mouses warren and slaughtered the family in their winter induced sleep), knowing the stallion often had more food than he could eat, even if he guarded it jealously. Plus, the pretty jewels crafted by his livestock would look lovely added with her trophy collection or make totems for those who had gotten away, allowing her to plan their demise and relish in her plots.
However, raiding took too much time as she loaded one of his packs with goods and meat, having gorged herself on what she could and stealing away more for later, and as she stepped out from the cave entrance, she found herself staring her twin brother in the face -- or as much of it as she could see, the stallion having already wrapped it up in those cloyingly scented fabrics of his, reeking of sandalwood and some sort of flower. A snarl formed on both of their lips, though her eyes sparkled with a bit of mirth. So he caught her in the act. It was going to rankle him badly if she got away with it, "Well hello there, Bear."
"Pizzly." Bear snarled, snearing in disgust under his creamy colored wrap, his claws digging into the dirt. The indignation! "Pizzly, you get out of there now and I'll be sure you'll only suffer a few broken bones rather than taking your life."
Though I might not spare you this time he thought, stepping forwards toward his cave. Before this time his sister had, on occasion, Vultured from his kills when they were still fresh, getting chased off with a shank of leg, a raccoon, or perhaps even a whole fattened Usdia, not worth the effort to chase her down and kill for her thievery. But this, even for a mare who practically the same blood as he did, thus making her children in many ways genetically his (And thus less effort he had to put in finding fertile purewalker mares with her whoring around), was pushing it.
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Posted: Thu Jun 27, 2013 9:30 pm
"So you are still calling yourself 'Bear' then? How.. Dimwitted. For a walker who thinks himself as clever, that was really the best name you could give yourself" She made a grimacing grin, enjoying how much this bothered her 'dear' brother. Perhaps it was worth the risk to draw it out. It wasn't often she got to torture prey too big for her to kill after all.
"hmm, I think, perhaps... Not. I rather like this den, it's... Homey. Just needs a few touches." she slunk back into the shadows, then began knocking things down from their carefully arranged stacks.
"PIZZLY!"
The stallion roared, charging into the cave, though he drew back as a swipe of claws barely missed tearing off his veil, and swiped back, "I will kill you this time you unsufferable wrench! And Bear is a better name than Pizzly! S'all I need."
Dodging thrown tools, skulls, bowls, and, much to his horror, a jar of honey that broke into a goopy mess as the precious liquid was necessary for making the sweet treats that quickly fattened his prey, he forced his sister backwards, "You have no where to go, Pizzly. I'm going to gut you open and feast on your-"
"Ah-ah!" She knocked over reams of wraps and fabrics, shifting to her somewhat smaller bearform before she unceremoniously squatted over them, sending the bigger brute to a sudden stop, "You wouldn't want to lose your entire collection of costumes, would you? One more step and you'll never get the scent of purewalker out of them."
The look of disgust on his face pleased his twin sister, who lifted her tail slightly, teasing him as watching him struggle between his urge to kill her and his desire to not have his entire plans spoiled so early in the year. It would almost be worth the loss of her life to just watch his face as he realized his plans might be spoiled so early in the start of the cycle.
"You wouldn't dare." However, Bear shook his head -- no his sister was much more vulgar and crude, and reveled in torturing others. She'd do it just to ruin him on a good day, much less to save her life. As much as he loathed to do it, he instead moved to the side, "Get out. You'll have a count of Ten to be out of the cave before this year be damned and I murder you regardless."
She nodded, adjusting her pack, and tucking some of his feather collection behind her ear, "That's better"
The mare was just barely past him, not even by the count of three, before he was on her tail, chasing her viciously from the cave and roaring in pure rage, sending his smaller but faster sibling running off into the woods, feeling rather pleased with herself as he tired and returned to his cave to do what he could to salvage the damage. This was going to make for a delicious memory. Perhaps next time she'll just raid his cave for his costumes or spoiling his perfumes.
Perhaps this year she'll meet him right as he visited his flock and out him for what he was before he could hold his feast. See him salvage that situation.
Now all she needed was some hapless victim to torture to death and today would be absolutely perfect[End]
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