73rd of fall, 515 a.v.
late afternoon
“Freakish beast.”
Aggression, defensive, come no closer.
Don’t like this, I’ll bite him, protect against.
No, stay there. None of your business.
“Damn straight it’s my business, someone brings an animal like that near my family, I’d send an arrow in it ‘fore you could blink.”
Stay away from her.
Let me bite him.
“No business near Endrykas, somethin’ like that. Think the whole world’s blind? That ain’t no dog; that’s a wolf, and a wolf that size don’t belong near people.”
Stay there!
Threatens you, desire to defend.
Stay! Leave. Now. Unwilling to yield.
The Emerald-wrapped hunter spat on the ground disparagingly, turning on his heel in disrespectful departure; he’s said his piece, and his words weren’t without basis––he feared the white wolf, and her rising hackles and curling lip did nothing to put him at ease. The man’s aggression towards her partner was something she deemed unacceptable, and she had no compunctions about letting him know it with bared teeth, even as Shahar’s mind-shouted demands for her to stay put restrained her more violent desires.
As the other hunter disappeared into the thick of the Hunter’s Allegiance, more than one stranger’s eye was hastily turned back to their work; the altercation had not gone unnoticed, and no one wanted to be the next one to draw the she-wolf’s ire, nor the man she obeyed.
For she was indeed a massive animal, and the Dawnwhisper was quickly losing the ability to claim that she was ‘just a wolf.’ In early youth, perhaps it assuaged the odd worry, but with winter looming in the near future, she was reaching what Shahar could only assume to be one year of age. And whatever she was, she was no longer a cub. Days of hunting and running and leaping and killing were rapidly stripping away the baby fat of puppyhood and replacing it with the forming muscle of adolescence, turning round fluff into gangly lines and angles, and she was still growing skyward. She was nearly three and a half feet at the shoulder now, a full handspan taller than even the largest of wolves, nevermind dogs, and there had never been any way to hide the fact that she was not at all man-bred; her ears were too pointed, her chest too narrow, her paws too thin and her legs too long. The only physical difference between herself and a wolf was her sheer size, and more than one person was beginning to notice.
Even after the man was out of sight, Snow was on edge. Her tail was up, her ears were forward; she didn’t want to let her guard down, not when she had seen someone so close to physical blows with her partner. Shahar sighed and knelt next to her, doing his best to stroke her hackles back down.
Snow, please. Done now.
Tense, unknown, threat to us, why what happen can’t let happen again. She remembered all too well the early-season scrap he’d had with Lian Windrunner, and it wasn’t something she wanted to repeat, especially now that she was large enough that she could physically stop such an event from happening.
Come, Snow. Follow, this way.
No not go, guard, stand my ground.
Threat gone, come with me. Please.
Shahar. It was as much a plea as it was a simple affirmation of his presence, of his wellbeing. She was uncertain, uncomfortable with what had just happened, and she could feel the stares of other people that were just as wary of her.
I know, Snow. Come away.
Slowly, very slowly, the she-wolf let her tail fall. The hair on her neck remained raised, but she turned stiffly to regard the clanless hunter with uneasy acceptance, don’t want to. She would go with him, but that didn’t mean she would just drop her guard.
Thank you.
She didn’t reply, but Shahar could detect the low rumblings of anger.
Shahar led her back to Akaidras and Tuka, both of whom were watching them with tension clear in the lines of their body; both had been more than ready to leap to the defense of their Drykas, had the event become violent, and Shahar thanked whatever gods were listening that it had not come to that.
He didn’t mount, but he did lead the lot of them farther to the outskirts of the Hunter’s Allegiance, where there were less people out and about. The sky was an angry gray, as it had been for days; the Sea of Grass had been awash in thunder recently. Thunder and rain, with the occasional frost thrown in for variety’s sake; the weather was decidedly less and less pleasant as the days wore on, and it was no secret that the season was changing. Animals would be reluctant today, and that was why Shahar had come to the Allegiance after ridding himself of the morning’s catch; he had intended to converse with the other hunters about the movements of the wild herds, but that conversation had quickly erupted into something else entirely.
To the fringes they went, the fringes of both the Allegiance and of the city itself; there were targets set up there, the less valued ones that were worn and misshapen. Most prefered the more person-shaped targets that were set up closer to the thick of things; for now, this would be an alright place to avoid any more conflict. No one else had yet come there.
Shahar brought his companions to the very farthest of the targets, then a little beyond; with the absence of people, Snow was quickly beginning to loosen. Still, she prickled when Shahar asked after how she was feeling; she closed up, unwilling to talk just yet. She was angry, and that anger quickly came to nip at him; she was angry at the other hunter, she was angry at Shahar for having held her back, she was angry at herself for not knowing what was going on; emotions swirled within her in a confusing mess that she didn’t want to figure out right now, and when he reached to touch her, she snapped at him––both figuratively and with her teeth––to leave me alone! Another moment and she was sprinting away, out of the Allegiance and out of Endrykas. She was going into the grasslands, and she was not going to tolerate Shahar following. Leave me alone.
Shahar watched the she-wolf leave, his own emotions flickering uncertainly; he wanted to go after her, to comfort her, to figure out what was making her so angry and to make her better, but he had no idea how. She didn’t want to be near anyone right now, and he couldn’t very well just leave Akaidras and Tuka behind.
Letting loose a frustrated growl, Shahar turned and returned to his cat and strider, who were waiting uncertainly for him. He rested his head against Akaidras’ neck wearily; this was territory he was unfamiliar with. He had raised Tuka and her siblings. He was in the process of raising Lightning and Khida’s mare’s filly. Animals were something he was familiar with, and that he knew how to care for.
But Snow was no more of an animal than Shahar was.
Gritting his teeth against his racing blood, Shahar turned to face the nearest of the targets. Like clockwork a javelin was in his hand and then it was flying, coming to spear the target within heartbeats.
Spearing too low. Shahar had been aiming for higher.
Stalking over to the target, Shahar yanked out his weapon and returned to his place; his choice of environments might have ended up being better than he had anticipated. The targets were there for him, he had his javelins with him and there was no one else around; perhaps a little time working on his skill with the weapon would be just what he needed to calm down.
late afternoon
“Freakish beast.”
Aggression, defensive, come no closer.
Don’t like this, I’ll bite him, protect against.
No, stay there. None of your business.
“Damn straight it’s my business, someone brings an animal like that near my family, I’d send an arrow in it ‘fore you could blink.”
Stay away from her.
Let me bite him.
“No business near Endrykas, somethin’ like that. Think the whole world’s blind? That ain’t no dog; that’s a wolf, and a wolf that size don’t belong near people.”
Stay there!
Threatens you, desire to defend.
Stay! Leave. Now. Unwilling to yield.
The Emerald-wrapped hunter spat on the ground disparagingly, turning on his heel in disrespectful departure; he’s said his piece, and his words weren’t without basis––he feared the white wolf, and her rising hackles and curling lip did nothing to put him at ease. The man’s aggression towards her partner was something she deemed unacceptable, and she had no compunctions about letting him know it with bared teeth, even as Shahar’s mind-shouted demands for her to stay put restrained her more violent desires.
As the other hunter disappeared into the thick of the Hunter’s Allegiance, more than one stranger’s eye was hastily turned back to their work; the altercation had not gone unnoticed, and no one wanted to be the next one to draw the she-wolf’s ire, nor the man she obeyed.
For she was indeed a massive animal, and the Dawnwhisper was quickly losing the ability to claim that she was ‘just a wolf.’ In early youth, perhaps it assuaged the odd worry, but with winter looming in the near future, she was reaching what Shahar could only assume to be one year of age. And whatever she was, she was no longer a cub. Days of hunting and running and leaping and killing were rapidly stripping away the baby fat of puppyhood and replacing it with the forming muscle of adolescence, turning round fluff into gangly lines and angles, and she was still growing skyward. She was nearly three and a half feet at the shoulder now, a full handspan taller than even the largest of wolves, nevermind dogs, and there had never been any way to hide the fact that she was not at all man-bred; her ears were too pointed, her chest too narrow, her paws too thin and her legs too long. The only physical difference between herself and a wolf was her sheer size, and more than one person was beginning to notice.
Even after the man was out of sight, Snow was on edge. Her tail was up, her ears were forward; she didn’t want to let her guard down, not when she had seen someone so close to physical blows with her partner. Shahar sighed and knelt next to her, doing his best to stroke her hackles back down.
Snow, please. Done now.
Tense, unknown, threat to us, why what happen can’t let happen again. She remembered all too well the early-season scrap he’d had with Lian Windrunner, and it wasn’t something she wanted to repeat, especially now that she was large enough that she could physically stop such an event from happening.
Come, Snow. Follow, this way.
No not go, guard, stand my ground.
Threat gone, come with me. Please.
Shahar. It was as much a plea as it was a simple affirmation of his presence, of his wellbeing. She was uncertain, uncomfortable with what had just happened, and she could feel the stares of other people that were just as wary of her.
I know, Snow. Come away.
Slowly, very slowly, the she-wolf let her tail fall. The hair on her neck remained raised, but she turned stiffly to regard the clanless hunter with uneasy acceptance, don’t want to. She would go with him, but that didn’t mean she would just drop her guard.
Thank you.
She didn’t reply, but Shahar could detect the low rumblings of anger.
Shahar led her back to Akaidras and Tuka, both of whom were watching them with tension clear in the lines of their body; both had been more than ready to leap to the defense of their Drykas, had the event become violent, and Shahar thanked whatever gods were listening that it had not come to that.
He didn’t mount, but he did lead the lot of them farther to the outskirts of the Hunter’s Allegiance, where there were less people out and about. The sky was an angry gray, as it had been for days; the Sea of Grass had been awash in thunder recently. Thunder and rain, with the occasional frost thrown in for variety’s sake; the weather was decidedly less and less pleasant as the days wore on, and it was no secret that the season was changing. Animals would be reluctant today, and that was why Shahar had come to the Allegiance after ridding himself of the morning’s catch; he had intended to converse with the other hunters about the movements of the wild herds, but that conversation had quickly erupted into something else entirely.
To the fringes they went, the fringes of both the Allegiance and of the city itself; there were targets set up there, the less valued ones that were worn and misshapen. Most prefered the more person-shaped targets that were set up closer to the thick of things; for now, this would be an alright place to avoid any more conflict. No one else had yet come there.
Shahar brought his companions to the very farthest of the targets, then a little beyond; with the absence of people, Snow was quickly beginning to loosen. Still, she prickled when Shahar asked after how she was feeling; she closed up, unwilling to talk just yet. She was angry, and that anger quickly came to nip at him; she was angry at the other hunter, she was angry at Shahar for having held her back, she was angry at herself for not knowing what was going on; emotions swirled within her in a confusing mess that she didn’t want to figure out right now, and when he reached to touch her, she snapped at him––both figuratively and with her teeth––to leave me alone! Another moment and she was sprinting away, out of the Allegiance and out of Endrykas. She was going into the grasslands, and she was not going to tolerate Shahar following. Leave me alone.
Shahar watched the she-wolf leave, his own emotions flickering uncertainly; he wanted to go after her, to comfort her, to figure out what was making her so angry and to make her better, but he had no idea how. She didn’t want to be near anyone right now, and he couldn’t very well just leave Akaidras and Tuka behind.
Letting loose a frustrated growl, Shahar turned and returned to his cat and strider, who were waiting uncertainly for him. He rested his head against Akaidras’ neck wearily; this was territory he was unfamiliar with. He had raised Tuka and her siblings. He was in the process of raising Lightning and Khida’s mare’s filly. Animals were something he was familiar with, and that he knew how to care for.
But Snow was no more of an animal than Shahar was.
Gritting his teeth against his racing blood, Shahar turned to face the nearest of the targets. Like clockwork a javelin was in his hand and then it was flying, coming to spear the target within heartbeats.
Spearing too low. Shahar had been aiming for higher.
Stalking over to the target, Shahar yanked out his weapon and returned to his place; his choice of environments might have ended up being better than he had anticipated. The targets were there for him, he had his javelins with him and there was no one else around; perhaps a little time working on his skill with the weapon would be just what he needed to calm down.
