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 Posted: Tue Sep 23, 2014 1:16 pm
LITTLE RIVER, BIG TROUBLE
Ouen & Ruelash
Somewhere in Jahuar
Having spent the good part of the morning gathering (and immediately eating) nuts from the top half of the forest canopy, Ouen had had just about enough of the overbearing sun. His skin felt like it was baking around him, his eyes hurt from the glare and his throat was so dry he wasn’t sure if he would be able to hold a conversation, beyond perhaps some grunts and cracked groans -- which wasn’t a whole lot of fun, for a young man who generally had a lot to say.
Seeking relief, the Shifter dropped to the forest floor and went in search of water. As damp as the rainforest was, what he wanted was a nice clear pool to soak in for a while.
He was not, at this age, a particularly clever survivalist. Seeing as he had no one to teach him about the ways of the jungle, it wasn’t exactly his fault. His mother had always been a homebody, and his father... well, who knows. Ouen hoped the man was a great adventurer. Or a warrior. Or a hunter. Something exciting like that, anyway. But the hoping was mainly a matter of fancy, because whoever the man was, he certainly had more important things on his mind than the education of a wandering son he had never met.
But Ouen was a fast enough learner, and what he did know about the jungle, he had picked up in his last few months of exploration; sometimes he learned from others, oftentimes he learned by trial and error.
He was a Shifter, after all. This was his land. What harm could come to him here?
The prentice soon found a narrow animal track cut through the undergrowth, and studied the messy collection of prints. He wasn’t a hunter, so they didn’t tell him much beyond the fact that some things with paws had been walking this way and that. Radaku, probably? Those had paws. Here he could use some of the knowledge passed on to him by elders with enough spare time on his hands; in one direction, the trail would lead him to a watering hole. In the other, it would take him straight into the mouth of a Radaku den. And as much as Ouen liked the look of the long-tailed, bright-eyed animals, he rubbed his hands together and asked Serin to deliver him to water.
***
She did.
After patiently following the winding trail, he was rewarded by the marshy-damp smell of water. The pathway cut into a bank of river-grasses and opened up onto a shallow river. Sighing contentedly, he knelt and drank his fill of water.
With his thirst slaked, Ouen felt his energy returning in full force. Ha! It was good to feel like himself again. He was just about to charge triumphantly into the water when… when he realised he was not alone.
An unfamiliar, soot-colored shape had come into sight, browsing on the river grasses. It was an animal, but what sort? It was tall, with a shaggy belly and horns like a Radaku’s, except oddly reversed. Having just rounded a corner, it had not yet noticed him, and Ouen wasn’t sure if he wanted it to. It looked… mean.
He backed away from the riverbank and headed inland, perhaps to get a better look at the thing from the relative shelter of trees (where he could always climb out of sight, after all).
As he slipped into concealment, though, the prentice noticed yet another oddity; a folded heap of fabric resting just a few feet away. Seeing as this thing was not particularly alive of mean-looking, he forgot about the creature for the time-being and crept towards the heap, reaching out with silver-gray fingers to touch the powder blue fabric.
It was soft, and oddly thick. The edges of it were trimmed with something even softer; it was fluffy and came in long strands, no doubt the fur of some animal. Anyhow, he had never seen anything like it, and to someone as young and boldly curious this meant only one thing -- he was going to have to try it on.
Swinging the fur-trimmed thing over his back, he found two shiny buckles at both ends and arranged these around his shoulders. It didn’t really fit him, it was sort of heavy, and -- uggh, it was hot under it.
Why on earth would anyone want to walk around in something like that?
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Posted: Sat Oct 04, 2014 12:03 pm
Ruelash let Direk graze in the woods, eating his own lunch (or breakfast) as she did so. He was patrolling the jungle – a job much better than anything the stupid people at the stupid camp could give him. He was a creature of the tundra, an animal of the cold, but there was something about the dark, shrieking, fluttering twilit glow of the jungle that he found attractive and intriguing.
Bergchi's presence was here too, in the proliferation of claws and teeth and poison that could be found around every branch of every looping trail. He could feel it, both oppressive and ennervating, and he liked it. It was horribly hot and mucky, though: that part he did not like. Direk was enjoying her break from trekking through these horrible hot and muddy woods. She let the water from a nearby stream flow over a hoof, washing away the gross dirt that muddled it and cooling her off. She bent down to drink, but something startled her, a sound. She made a yipping sound, glaring at something in the brush. Ruelash looked up immediately at her sounds, knowing enough to take his companion's warning seriously. He drew his swords and crept over to where she was staring. It barely registered that her coat was missing until, with a pounce, he revealed an earthling. Wearing his aldabuck's coat.
His hands with the swords dropped to his sides, his face contorted in disgusted confusion. ”Wha?” he managed, trying to process the strange sight before him...
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Posted: Fri Oct 10, 2014 7:00 am
He supposed having a cool coat would make you sort of mean-looking, given the right circumstances. However, he wasn’t sure if all the fur trim was really necessary -- and wouldn’t this thing get caught on every single tree you even so much as brushed past? That alone was enough reason to scoff at the whole idea, because well, Ouen spent a lot of his time in the trees.
Before he could shrug out of the coat and be off on his way, there was the rustle of movement in the foliage behind him. He didn’t think too much of it, because well, the jungle was always full with the rustle of movement -- but this time, the rustling was followed by a resounding crash and the flash of dim sunlight on metal. And all of this commotion served to announce the arrival of a particularly mean-looking, blue-skinned man with flaring yellow eyes and a mess of dark hair.
“Wha?”
He did not look particularly happy to see Ouen. But, given that he was wearing more fur-trimmed clothing than Ouen had ever seen in Jauhar, he also looked like he might be the owner of this particular coat.
“Oh. This yours?” Ouen raised his arms a little, the sides of the coat flaring like wings. “It’s weird.”
Perhaps he should have been worried about those blades that the stranger was wielding -- but having decided that putting on a fur coat was not doing anyone any particular harm, he chose to assume that the whole thing was a relatively simple misunderstanding.
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Posted: Mon Oct 20, 2014 6:09 pm
This whole situation was weird. Ruelash slumped, the swords held at his sides like he'd forgotten them. It was simply odd to see his Aldabuck's coat on a person... absurd, actually.
He snorted with laughter, looked again, and snorted louder.
”It ain't mine” he said, amused, ”It's hers.” he gestured to Direk.Direk was equally flummoxed by the sight before her, though that soon turned to affront. How dare this filthy twoleg touch her saddle?! He didn't deserve to touch her hooves. She straightened, trying to be as elegant and arrogant as possible, and strode towards him, murmuring threateningly. ”And she ain't happy.” he said, unable now to repress a snicker.
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Posted: Wed Nov 05, 2014 9:27 am
Maybe he was right -- the stranger seemed to me more amused than hostile now, holding his swords low and laughing. It wasn’t exactly the warmest laugher Ouen had ever heard, but that was alright.
The man waved to the side and told him the coat was hers -- but when Ouen turned (expecting to find, perhaps, a blue-skinned, yellow-eyed woman with a second set of swords), he saw only the horned creature from the river, staring back at him with offended indignation.
“Hers?” Ouen quirked an eyebrow (although the gesture was barely visible under the forelock of hair that fell over his forehead). “She’s already got a coat.”
This reasoning did not seem to sit well with the animal, who was striding purposefully towards him. Ouen pursed his lips. He didn’t know what this creature was, or how dangerous she might be; her horns looked threatening, that was for sure. Perhaps it was best to drop the coat and be on his way. It was a damn silly coat anyway, much too warm and heavy on his shoulders. He’d only tried it on out of curiosity -- he would never dream of stealing it, or anything to that ilk.
But Ouen, young as he was, was growing older. And the older he grew, the better he got acquainted with an odd feeling that welled up inside him anytime someone looked at him the wrong way: pride.
So he kept the coat around his shoulders, and gave the horned animal an incredulous look.
“Well I’m not keeping it, if that’s what you’re worried about. But who ever heard of something furry wearing a coat?”
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Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2014 11:49 am
Not keeping it? Good. So, why was the little shifter person still wearing it? Ruelash watched his familiar out of the corner of his eye: she looked about ready to gore the stupid shifter, and of course she would – it was her coat.
”Aye, she's got a coat.” he said. He didn't like the boy's tone, but he didn't like anybody's tone. ”But it's a thin coat, an' not so good fer Zena.” he sheathed his swords and held out his hand meaningfully for the coat.
He was too amused by the brat wearing the thing to attack – a bit of self control that was wholly knew to him – but that amusement would only be a buffer for so long, and already he kind of wanted to box the proud expression off of his face, just for the heck of it. ”She ain't wearin' it now, 'cause this here is Jahuar, but it's hers anyway, and she don't like nobody touchin' it.”Direk was not amused. She snorted and tossed her head, her own yellow eyes glaring murderously at Ouen. She was a proud creature too, and his attitude rubbed her the wrong way. He should be bowing to her, and giving her manservant her coat! She was worthy of being a queen – just look at her glossy coat, newly washed – and she deserved better than this. She deserved better than Ruelash, but he was tolerable. She bared her herbivore teeth, moving her lips in a smacking motion. Her. Coat. Now.
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Posted: Thu Dec 18, 2014 9:47 am
“Thin?” Ouen wrinkled his nose. It was thicker than anything the Shifters ever wore. And what wasn’t it good for? Zena? Was Zena a person? Was Zena the creature’s name?
Maybe it was a place. It sounded familiar, like perhaps he had heard of someone speak of it before. But they must not have told him much else about it, and he couldn’t even imagine where it might be. If it was a place, it must be quite far. And if coats like this were no good for travelling there, then it must also be horribly cold.
But there were more pressing matters at hand; the animal with her angry stare, and her absolute lack of consideration for the fact that she wasn’t even wearing the coat now, and that it was just plain nasty-jealous of her to be so uppity about someone touching something she didn’t even need. Ouen stuck out his tongue at her, but figured that clinging to this thing (which he had only some passing interest in, anyway) did not have any great value either, not when his life and health was… maybe, quite possibly, at risk.
“Take it!” He giggled, swinging the thing off of his shoulders and tossing it in the direction of her head. Then he ran, still snickering, and scrambled up into the branches of the nearest tree.
“You can’t get me here, hoof-walker!”
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Posted: Thu Feb 12, 2015 8:01 pm
”Aye her fur...” said Ruelash, his patience ebbing bit by bit, ”Now give it...” He had to jump to catch it before it fell into the water, and he managed to, just barely. His pant legs were soaked, but that didn't matter. The brat had just gone too far, and Ruelash's rare patience was at an end.
”Ye little...” he snarled. No one disrespected him like that. No one pissed him off so much... not without consequences. He didn't have to beat up the boy. He honestly didn't – all the brat had done was mess with a coat and act like an idiot.
But he would anyway: it was fun.
He chased him to the tree, climbing up it with the help of his pitons – a lot slower than any shifter... but still fast enough to be worrysome. ”I'll get yer hide fer this.” he growled.
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Posted: Fri Feb 20, 2015 9:31 am
Ouen moved higher into the canopy, his sinewy arms and light, boyish weight making the climb quite easy on the boy. As he had expected, there was no chance of the hooved animal getting to him up here… but the man himself was following now, and boy, was he ever mad! Yellow eyes flashed up at him everytime the stranger glanced up, moving ever-closer at a surprisingly steady pace.
“Now don’t you blame me if you fall and break your neck!” Ouen laughed, sitting down on a comfortable branch to humor him. There was no reason he couldn’t run off now, just up and disappear into the canopy like he had done so many times before. But he didn’t budge, not yet. And why? There was that feeling again, that pang of stubborn pride. He wasn’t going to run, not until it was clear as day that he had the upper hand.
So Ouen waited. He dangled his legs down from the branch and watched the stranger approach. At first he was hoping the man would fall (that would be a laugh!) but it seemed that he was more than strong enough to make the climb.
Very well! Ouen would wait for him to get just barely close enough to each, and then he would hop off to the next tree -- leaving his pursuer behind, for surely no amount of strength would help one make an agile, light-footed leap.
“You’re not going to catch me, old man. You’re wastin’ your time!”
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