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 Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 3:34 pm
Appeal and Owlied:
Would you guys have any objections to Crest and Crestfallen RPing with Bitterleaf at once? I haven't done a fun group RP in ages.
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 3:41 pm
I have no objections to it, we (I believe) wanted those two to meet anyways. o:
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 3:48 pm
I am having the slightly horrifying mental image of Bitterleaf playing the world's creepiest matchmaker
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 4:18 pm
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 5:00 pm
Do one of you guys want to start or would it be easier if Bitterleaf took the lead? Also... where exactly do you wanna start this--after they get back? I'd like to do one post-patrol, actually, and cover some action on the beach itself (maybe the oft-longed-for whalesong?) but if you guys wanna do one pre-patrol I'd be cool with that too.
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 5:02 pm
I'd be fine with post patrol -- personally I think it might be easier for Bitterleaf to start so I could ease Crestfallen in. I'm a bit rusty, mind you. x 3x;;
But I'm willing to go along with whatever Appeal thinks. xD
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Posted: Sat Apr 24, 2010 7:57 pm
Post is fine. :3 I think Bitterleaf should start yeah. xD
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Posted: Wed Aug 11, 2010 11:28 am
Quote: Kimeti name: Marshrush Stage/gender: Adult Buck Write a recollection of a night or several on your Kimeti's first patrol. This may take place at any point in the patrol but should reflect the strain placed on his/her abilities and how s/he overcomes difficulties:Cold. Marshrush didn't mind -- could handle, at least -- the long walk, the crossing of uncomfortable terrain. Yes, sometimes he took a step and a joint protested overuse. Yes, now and then his mind fixed on the want of a drink or something to eat, but he could move past those. None of them pushed him toward giving in. The cold, though. When the sun went down and the wind came in and curled around him, unlike anything he'd ever felt, he seriously considered giving up. It wasn't just that it chilled his coat or that he thought, sometimes, he might have seen his breath. It was that it sank in, deep through his skin and muscles and into his bones. It made his knees stiff and closed his ears. Too cold to hear anything but his own chattering teeth. And it drove him. No help for being cold but finding ways to warm up. No help for being stiff but keep moving, so move he did. On and on along the patrol, head down when the wind bit too hard, but on, always forward. He would finish the task he'd been set. Then he'd find a warm place, burrow down a few days and rest.
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