Closed No Place for a Lone Ranger

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The Wilderness of Cyphrus is an endless sea of tall grass that rolls just like the oceans themselves. Geysers kiss the sky with their steamy breath, and mysterious craters create microworlds all their own. But above all danger lives here in the tall grass in the form of fierce wild creatures; elegant serpents that swim through the land like whales through the ocean and fierce packs of glassbeaks that hunt in packs which are only kept at bay by fires. Traverse it carefully, with a guide if possible, for those that venture alone endanger themselves in countless ways.

No Place for a Lone Ranger

Postby Dravite on September 20th, 2015, 7:32 pm

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20 Fall, 515 AV
11th Bell, Mid-day
Sea of Grass


The mare’s breathing grew heavy as they neared the area where Dravite had detected a disturbance in the web, a lone djed pool that seemed out of place on the plain and had not moved in the last two days he had ventured out to check after first discovering it. The horse lord urged his mount on, cutting through the tall grass with relative ease, one hand held up for balance as he rode, while the other gripped the yvas tightly. “Slow,” he called, commanding the mare to come to a steady stop some metres from the campsite ahead of him.

Vicious lowered her head as if to seek out water and Dravite slipped from the mare’s back to fetch a water-skin from the yvas bags to pour into a bucket that had rolled to the edge of the clearing where the grass wasn’t as thick. He ruffled the mare’s mane as she drank before edging towards the campsite which looked to have been abandoned at first glance.

The tents sat open, makeshift doors flapping in the wind. When Dravite picked up on the smell of ash, he slowed and crept up to one of the tents and peer inside, just in case there had been trouble here and whoever had gone through the camp was still close by. Outside the entrance into the hot tent the man was forced to fall back, senses assaulted by the tang of death that permeated the air, thick and heavy; it seemed he need not creep about here for all were lost.

The watchman slipped out of his shirt and rolled it up to fix over his mouth and nose, tying it off at the back of his head to block out most of the stink from the decaying body inside the tent. It was then he felt the crawling beneath his feet and looked down to find that the ground was covered with maggots, all fat and bloated, most of them half dead in the mid-day sun. He stepped back and shook a few strays from his riding boots before venturing deeper into the camp where he found the fire pit still smoking, surprised it hadn’t gone out; perhaps, he thought, the breeze had kept it burning, turning the ashes over so that it could not suffocate itself.

The second tent was much the same as the first only this one contained a woman and child, a sight not father wanted see. Dravite couldn’t see any signs of a struggle or attack, be it by man or beast. He scanned the earth underfoot looking for tracks that might offer some kind of information, but there were none to be found. It then occurred to him that it seemed a little odd that the bodies had not been torn apart by grassland scavengers looking for an easy meal, and he wondered as to the cause of the pavilion’s death; illness, starvation, drought?

Upon further investigation of the fire pit, the watchman discovered a burnt meal that looked as if it had been picked at with the wooden spoon that sat a few feet away. When he lifted the spoon it smelt sweet like a bitter jam, “poison?” he said to the wind as if it would answer him; had the pavilion members all eaten something they shouldn’t have?

Slipping into the web didn’t feel right and it took Dravite a long time to work into a meditative state strong enough to block the world out and reach for the glowing strands of tightly spun djed that were there waiting at his disposal, ready to feed him more information. There had been a faint form of life somewhere in the camp and Dravite was determined to find it without risking his own neck for too long.

He circled the camp and roamed through the lines of the web that looked to have been recently manipulated, perhaps by one of the dead pavilion members. The horse lord studied the signature knot that had been laid down but couldn’t quite place who it belonged to. All of the sudden the faint pool of djed came up again and Dravite surmised that he would have to head half a mile northwest of his current position to find out exactly what or who it belonged to.

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Dravite
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No Place for a Lone Ranger

Postby Dravite on September 22nd, 2015, 9:52 pm

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Stealth was of the utmost importance, especially when working alone on the Sea of Grass. Dravite moved through the tall grass with his spear at the ready, mindful of where his feet fell in the gaps and displacing his weight accordingly as not to make more noise than nature’s humming could conceal. The birds tucked away in their ground nests sung, and high-pitched trills from an assortment of bugs worked to disguise the actions he made towards his desired location. When the horse lord finally stumbled upon the source of the djed pool, it was not a man, woman or child, but a dog the size of a small horse that lay on its side, baking in the sun.

The pad of his front, right paw looked blistered and burned and folds of skin about his mouth and ears looked to have been attacked by some kind of mite. The horse lord was hesitant; though the dog seemed subdued at this current time, he had seen wounded animals act in very unforgiving ways. With quick moving feet he turned and ran back towards the campsite, weaving his way through the tall grass that he had cut himself on the trip out. Quickly he scooped up the bucket Vicious had finished with and lunged up onto the mare’s back. Once he was upright he nudged the animal in the side, encouraging her to head in the direction he had come from with a low whistle that saw the animal’s ears turn to listen.

The horse, as stubborn as she could be, skipped forwards effortlessly, taking her rider back towards the dog, as if she sensed his urgency. Dravite directed the mare in a half circle around the injured animal that scarcely had the strength to lift his head. He commanded the Bloodbane mare to slow and finally stop before dismounting to pour some water into the abandoned bucket. The vessel had a crack in the bottom so Dravite had to hold it on an angle to stop the water from escaping before he could get it to the dog.
“Hey, boy,” he spoke gently.

The dog lifted its lip to bare his teeth and growl, warning the watchman to back off even with all his strength diminished. It wasn’t until he smelt the water that the large, silver beast found the strength to sit up and bury his head in the bucket.
“Good, boy,” Dravite smiled but chose not to touch the dog; he didn’t want to stress the animal further.

He filled the bucket part way when the dog was done with the first lot and returned to Vicious who swished her tail angrily, stomping one of her front hooves against the ground to show her frustration, “I know, you want to hunt, but you will just have to wait,” he argued with her before fetching some of the dry meat he kept in the yvas bag.

The horse lord offered a piece to his mare before returning to the dog’s side to hold up a slice of meat. The Imperial Watcher sniffed at the dried rabbit meat before snatching it out of the man’s hand to chew and swallow it down quickly. Dravite stepped back and held the second piece up just out of reach so that the animal had to come to him if he wanted it. The tired hound got to his feet and limped closer to the man, bowing his head to take the meat while Dravite rubbed his neck.
“That’s better,” he smiled slowly; “you’re a friendly dog really.”

The guard dog wagged his tail, looking up at the Drykas man with big, yellow eyes and pointed ears, hoping to earn another morsel or two.

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No Place for a Lone Ranger

Postby Dravite on September 23rd, 2015, 2:23 am

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It was a slow trip back to Endrykas with Dravite being able to do little for the dog out on the grasslands. He enticed the animal back to the city with the last of the dried rabbit meat he had and went in search of the young woman he recalled had treated one of the watchmen’s horses a few days before. Fortunately for him, it seemed Lian knew her well enough to point him in the right direction and after dropping his horse off in camp, he gave the animals their fill of water before going out in search of Ruari Darkwind.

“Come on, Grim,” he called to the dog, nicknaming the animal after the bleak look on its face.

The dog padded along behind him, careful not to put too much weight on his injured paw. The pair walked side by side for a time, Dravite with his hand on the dog’s shoulder, marvelling at the size of him; he was big enough that a child could probably ride him, but clumsy and wayward in his stride. Another mouth to feed, Dravite couldn’t help but remind himself on the way to Ruari’s camp; if she wasn’t home, hopefully someone there could point him to her place of work, though he had a good idea that it was probably the White Lily where a lot of the Drykas people took their wounded animals. What was the protocol for helping with an animal, he wondered then? Was it much the same as the River Flower, where patrons offered gifts to the doctors involved in helping them or would Ruari need payment in favour or gold?

When he moved into the right part of town, Dravite started asking around after Ruari, “The redhead who cares for animals? Do you know where I can find Ruari? Yes Darkwind,” he nodded and a little boy pointed him to a camp a few metres away. Thank you, Dravite signed before leading the war-dog over to the young woman’s set up, “Ruari?” the horse lord called, “I’ve got someone here for you to take a look at if you aren’t too busy?”

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No Place for a Lone Ranger

Postby Ruari Darkwind on September 25th, 2015, 12:16 pm

Ruari was not in her tent when the man came to find her, but she was not far away. With her father and mothers in the pavilion they shared with the main force of their children, Ruari was listening to her father regale them with tales of his childhood and the many times he and his first strider, a buckskin stallion as ornery as any had right to be, butted heads. As with her siblings and mothers, she laughed, herself trying to wrap her head around the idea of the great Cidhna Darkwind being kicked when he teased an old stallion and being thrown when he got the better of the horse.

Although the walls of the tent were heavy and it was hard to hear through them, the laughter spilled out from the cracks in the walls and the open entrance. Cidhna, gesturing grandly in the way of the old Ankal, was charming his crowd, his family, and the wind was there to tickle their faces and listen, as Cidhna rarely told them stories and even sometimes, Ruari thought the wind grew curious.

She left the pavilion for a breath of air, leaving as Cidhna began a grand retelling of the day he met his most recent strider, a feisty stallion from the grassland. He'd told it earlier, and although Ruari would have liked to hear it again, she felt tired after the last bout of laughter, as if it had exhausted her to be so glad with her family. As unsettling as it was, she needed to step out, and she was lucky for it.

"I am Ruari. You were looking for me?" She asked curious, surprise, recognition , approaching the man and his dog at the edge of her home. Her head cocked, trying to gauge his interest in it. Young men didn't often call upon her and she was, if a bit concerned, jumping to conclusions. When she caught sight of the dog, however, she was a step more reassured. The dog looked ill, with a sort of dour expression on his face and what she thought was a slump to his shoulders. Concern, help? Her signs came even as she approached them, making for her tent and to the kits therein. She considered herself compassionate, but in all honesty she really did not like the sight of a suffering animal. Even without Rak'keli's blessing, Ruari considered herself sworn to serving them.

"What happened to him?" She asked the horselord, pausing to assess him. Was he cruel, letting his beasts suffer? She really knew nothing about him.
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No Place for a Lone Ranger

Postby Dravite on September 26th, 2015, 10:07 pm

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Greetings, apologies, the watchman signed for it seemed her had interrupted the woman in her home, "hello, Ruari; I'm Dravite and this is Grim," the large dog at the man's side tipped his head and sat on his hindquarters, "I found him today in the Sea of Grass, I don't know how long he has been out there alone, but he looks quite poorly," the man pointed out and pinched the dog's skin on the back of the neck, where instead of returning to its original shape quickly, the new fold of skin lingered.

"I've given him some fresh water and two or three pieces of dried rabbit, I didn't want to over feed him if he hasn't eaten in a long time," confusion, worry, indecision the horse-lord’s hands played out, "I think he's friendly, but whenever I try to take a closer look at his paw, he growls."

Grim could be considered very large for an Imperial Watcher, though he was on the thin side, most of his ribs and spine on show where they shouldn't be; the skin on his face was covered in mite bites and he kept bowing his head to scratch at his long, pointed ears. The skin under the dog's big, yellow eyes seemed to droop more than it should, his nose was dry and cracked and one of his teeth seemed to be chipped. "My main concerns are his foot and the bites, I didn't want to introduce him to any of my other dogs in case he is contagious, otherwise I would have taken him straight home; do you think there is anything you can do for him?"

The man sounded genuinely concerned about the animal, "and let me know, of course, how I can repay you," he smiled half-heartedly, almost as if he were concerned Ruari wouldn't be able to do anything for the dog; Dravite scrubbed his fingers against the dog's neck in an attempt to comfort him then.

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No Place for a Lone Ranger

Postby Ruari Darkwind on December 9th, 2015, 4:54 pm

As he spoke, the veterinarian regarded his canine companion with her special, finite brand of knowledge to pick apart what may be ailing him. She thought that, underneath the scabs and mites, he might have a sleek and beautiful coat, but currently he was the most serious looking dog she had ever seen.

On the topic of payment, Ruari, familiar with the giving of small gifts for her services, was taken aback at being asked what she required. She smiled at him, though. "Are you a hunter? Winter is on its way, and I find myself in need of fur. Perhaps rabbit?" Although she knew fur to be a necessity for many pavilions in the late year, she didn't actually expect much but maybe a pelt. With that, she could have it layered into her blanket as thicker insulation.

"I have something for the mites here," she said to him, back to business and gesturing to her tent. Within, there were two kits which would help her in the situation, one with the tools to treat both the paw and sores, and another for the mites, and she made the move to get them.

Practice had her wary of startling the animal once she'd retrieved both the kits from her home and approached him. Having not done so before, and unwilling to get personal and on a knee before a strange and possibly half-wild dog, she extended her hand with the simple notion of letting him investigate her at will, and if he responded positively, she would then kneel at his side.

"I want to take a look at his paw first," she said to the man. "It may hurt him. Hold him for me?" By that, she meant restraint. Her sign language accompanying the words would convey as much. Ruari preferred to get to the painful part of the ordeal rather than let the animal wallow in it. He was pitiful in that regard, but his character was strong. He didn't whine in complaint.

When that was done, if the Watchman wanted to do it, Ruari gently, but firmly, lifted the dog's paw from the slightly raised position in which he held it and began inspecting it. She checked first for small objects caught between his pads and toes, possibly a rock, and found one there, digging into the middle-left pad of his foot.

She reached blindly and felt around in her medicinal kit for tweezers. With care, she pried the sliver of stone out and dropped it into the lid of her toolkit before continuing her examination of his paw. With that done, she discarded the tweezers also in the lid of her kit and dragged out her waterskin to wash over the swollen limb. It wasn't quite done yet, but Ruari thought she had a good start on it.
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No Place for a Lone Ranger

Postby Dravite on December 10th, 2015, 11:12 pm

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"I'm sure I can do better than that," he offered in regards to a gift for her services, "I've got a nice wolf pelt I think you'll like." Without fuss, Dravite removed the tools from his belt and stripped himself of the leather strap to fasten around the dog's neck. He didn't want to take any chances, especially with the young woman working within biting range. If Grim made any sudden movements, the belt would tighten and keep him from lashing out. Thankfully, the Imperial Watcher did no such thing, but tried to free his paw from the vet's hand a couple of times by tugging firmly.

Once the small shard of stone was plucked free, Grim gave a pathetic whine and tried to lick at his paw, catching Ruari's shoulder instead with his big, pink tongue. "Grim," Dravite scratched between the dog’s ears gently and rubbed the back of his neck, "careful."

The watchman looked on as Ruari's did her work, keeping a firm grip on the belt after the animal had been able to get close enough to lick the woman. The dog made a disgruntled sound as if he were fed up and whined again, still troubled by his paw, "do think there is more in there?" Dravite asked, "I feel terrible for making him walk back to the city now, though you wouldn't have liked the trip out to his home, nor the state of said destination," he admitted, "thank you for seeing him right away."
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No Place for a Lone Ranger

Postby Ruari Darkwind on December 13th, 2015, 12:15 am

Ruari smiled; she would have better use of a wolf skin, and she was grateful for the offer. She wouldn't have let him leave with an ailing dog, even if he chose to just leave it at gold, because she considered it her duty to Caiyha to ease an animal out of its suffering.

"I find it a generous offer," she said to him, and she inclined her head accepting and pleased with the arrangement.

Grim's gesture, although aimed at his paw, was not ignored; Ruari offered him a tentative, and then kind, bit of scratches for his good behaviour. He wasn't violent, not in the way she thought he would be, and even though the man held him, Ruari thought the dog might just be too kind with people. He must be trained. Wild dogs, and those unsocialised, were not this kind.

But the dog quickly came again to the forefront of her mind; she spread his toes gently, applying a topical ointment to ward off infection that she had to first pry from a slip in the wall of the toolkit. The ointment was supposed to work on people, but she believed it would be fine in use on a beast. Sadly, Ruari didn't know what was used in the ointment, only that one of her mothers swore by it and had stocked the kit with it before giving it to the young and aspiring veterinarian, and it was only now that Ruari applied it to the dog's wound that she remembered it.

After that was done, and her inspection as well, Ruari drew forth her roll of bandages in order to bind the dog's foot; this was a practice she had done before, but not for such a large and unknown dog. Before doing so, she gave the animal a lively bit of affection, as if to comfort him. She hadn't much bandaged an animal's paw; it wasn't that long ago that Ruari was new to this work, and she usually worked with more experienced people. Now that she was here and capable, she longed for those days, just a bit.

Ruari sat back and began to wrap the dog's paw, going slow so she could carefully check the tightness of the bandage. The risk of cutting circulation was a real one and, even risky to the dog's health, it would prevent quick recovery of his injury and even make the paw swell worse. She didn't want to be known as the careless veterinarian to do that to a dog.

She started at the top of his paw, wrapping down around the pad and up around again, increasing distance along his leg gradually without fully overlapping her previous progress. She went to his ankle with the bandage before stopping and pinning it in place. She tested it's tightness with her index finger and found it satisfactory.

"You should check on this tomorrow, check the progress of the swelling," Ruari said, looking up at Dravite so she would be heard; Ruari had a tendency to speak quietly and she didn't want to mumble and go unheard. "If it's no better, you can bring him back here to me and I will treat him again, but otherwise it should be fine; he had a bit of stone in there, but at least there are no broken bones."

Next, she had to assess the mites and the scabs on the dog's body; these were infectious parasites and were generally a nasty nuisance to domestic animals. She had treated similar with ear mites and knew a solution to the problem.

"Take a seat with him," she offered, gesturing at the round fire which sat in the centre of the Darkwind camp. Although it had a few occupants at the moment in the form of Ruari's eldest sister and a couple children, they were not paying attention to Ruari and Dravite at the moment and would likely not complain at being joined. Ruari would not have offered Dravite a seat there if it had been someone a little more unfriendly. "I need to get something from the tent, but I won't be long." Patience and apology were signed into her hands, but she didn't wait for Dravite to get and make himself comfortable before she went off.
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No Place for a Lone Ranger

Postby Dravite on December 13th, 2015, 6:06 am

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Dravite looked over at the fireplace, surmising that the woman seated there must have been related to Ruari. He looked back to protest, he didn't want to interrupt anything but the young woman had been insistent and taken her leave before he could get a word in. "You," he smiled at Grim and large Imperial Watcher tipped his head as if perplexed by the word, "you're going to be a lot of trouble, I can tell," the horse lord smirked and moved to sit near the fire, taking Grim along with him.

The dog limped after Dravite and sat with his wrapped paw raised, watching the children play. As Dravite waited for Ruari to return, he kept an eye on Grim and thought back to the sight he had stumbled upon, the campsite Grim had been a part of and the people who must have cared for him, and vice versa. The way Grim seemed to watch the children suggested that it might have once been his job, protecting them from the dangers of the grasslands. "You're just a big softy, aren't you?" Dravite smiled and the dog looked up at him briefly before turning back to the kids.

When Ruari returned, Dravite had a few questions for her. "How old do you think he is?" The dog didn't look that old but it was harder to tell with big breeds, "I wondered if you could check his teeth for me? He doesn't seem to have any problems eating but I wouldn't know what I was looking for," he admitted. "Will he be all right to keep with my herding dogs, even with the mite problem?" The watchman kept two desert dogs back home, one of which he expected pups from come spring and didn't want to take any chances for the sake of a Lone Ranger.
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Dravite
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No Place for a Lone Ranger

Postby Ruari Darkwind on January 18th, 2016, 2:24 pm

The children, accustom to new faces around the camp, were fairly ignorant of the strange pair that the dog and the man made. The woman offered a smile, her attitude welcoming but quiet as may seem the norm of the people in this pavilion, and she continued braiding the younger girl’s hair. These two could have been either sisters or daughters, both fair and blonde and lending to the Darkwind habit of leonine hair and freckled faces. Ruari too, looked like them, but for her hair being red and her eyes a darker colour where theirs could have been pale blue or gray.

Ruari returned as quick as she could, bearing with her the gift of freshly warmed honey in a small pot and clean hands to handle it. She didn’t know if the man would know the beneficial uses of honey, so Ruari had taken the whole jar from her supplies in order to offer it to him to take home, even though the jar wasn’t as full as it could have been due to use (Ruari may have used it once or twice to flavour tea and bread). Before sending him off with it, though, she thought it prudent to instruct him in its uses; Ruari didn’t want anything unpleasant to happen to this “Grim” of his.

“I’ve found that the best cure for mites is to treat them with honey,” she told him, maybe stating the obvious with the honey in her hands and a ghosting smile. She stopped talking when he began his questions, though, and she was glad to take them in and provide answers before beginning the sticky situation that honey would create when she applied it.

Placing the jar down, she knelt before the large dog, but with his height that was almost unnecessary. The big animal was tall enough standing that she could have looked at him closely without kneeling. The only way Ruari knew how to identify the age of a dog was by looking at the teeth, and though she was more inexperienced with it, she knew that dog teeth changed as they aged.

Gently, she approached the dog with soothing hands, but wasn’t too concerned about him acting out at her; he seemed gentle as well. She didn’t ignore that the dog had been watching the children play when she returned, and that it was a trait that was desirable in most dogs not exclusively bred for hunting. Ruari was curious about him, but it wasn’t time to question Dravite on the dog.

The transition of her hands from affection to searching was gradual; she was not forceful with the beast, but wanted to guide him into her hands and begin searching for the signs of age that Dravite requested with the dog’s consent. That alone began with Ruari urging the dog to open his mouth for her, and eventually when he did, she went in to examine his teeth. There were a lack of the milk teeth a puppy would have, and although there was a build-up of dark tartar on his teeth, Ruari could see that that didn’t mean he was as old as that might signal in other dogs. To her inexperienced eye, the lag of ridges in his teeth told her that he was well out of puppyhood and may have been a few summers old.

“He’s got strong teeth,” she told Dravite as she examined the beast, who seemed patient enough with her ministrations that she didn’t feel pressed to give him a break too quickly. There weren’t any broken ones that she could identify, and he didn’t seem to be in pain from them, but despite her confidence, Ruari allowed for mistakes she might make. Ruari was still young and learning. “Judging by them, I want to say that he is three summers. For a dog his size, that’s still young.”

She released the dog’s mouth then and gave him a few more pats and scratches to reward for the good behaviour and to encourage more from him. Positive reinforcement was something Ruari was close to as an idealization, and she would not be cruel to an animal.

“For treating mites, as I said, honey is a good solution. The parasites seem incapable of escaping it, but it will require a couple applications and also cleaning. I don’t want to see this animal brought back because ants got to him while he wore honey.” She stood, offering the jar to Dravite. “I would apply it here, but I get the strong feeling that he will be attracting insects all the way to your pavilion, and I’d rather see him in the comfort of home before having to deal with those nags.”

She directed herself friendly enough, but she did want to instruct him the same way she had: with an air of responsibility and leadership her teacher had instilled within her. Veterinarians couldn’t afford to be meek.

“Mites can be pretty contagious. Before sending him with the herding dogs, I’d suggest clearing those up first. The same goes with letting children get close to him and other animals. It’s simply a precaution.”
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