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10th of Winter, 515 AV
early morning
He found the abandoned campsite far enough out in the grass that he was not certain it was even in the city. It was small and lonely, set far back from the tents that were closest to it, as if the others thought it unwanted or unclean. There were no animals grouped around the single rundown tent, at least not that the coyote could see, and that meant that there could not be Drykas there, for most Drykas had many animals.
He was surprised to find the fresh scent of human and dog when he came closer. Knowing it was a mistake but not exactly caring, the canine came closer yet.
It wasn't until he stepped around the tent towards the low fire that he saw them: a blank-faced young woman staring down at the dying embers, a toddler-child grasping at her clothes with one hand and signing hungry over and over with the other. If the mother felt her child or heard his sad sniffling, she paid no mind. She just looked at the fire, and didn't even notice when the coyote crept up close to her other side.
---
He wasn't exactly certain that what he was doing was a good thing, by human standards, but he was certain that it was a necessary thing.
Muddled thoughts of what humans called ownership and property and money and even wealth swirled in his head, but the coyote was not really concerned with those things at the moment. He blinked his eyes to get rid of them, instead bringing to mind the little boy and empty-faced mother who could not help her child while she was... like she was. Wake-sleeping.
The canine got down low to the ground, a golden-tinged shadow in the low firelight of the early city, and slunk on.
---
He had found the perfect place --the perfect target-- and still he held back. His head was telling him that this was not really a good idea --especially being a coyote in the city, where he had been shot at before-- but his heart was telling him that somewhere back in the grass the child was whimpering. He tried to calm his own quick-panting breathing before he moved on.
The camp was quiet. He had chosen it because he had not seen many people moving around, like in other pavilions, and because there were many animals here. Horses and dogs, zibri and cats and goats and bird, more horses and dogs; that many animals meant that this place had to have enough food for all, yes? And some to spare for a small hungry belly. Maybe a bit more for the mother, too.
He told himself that taking food from humans was just like sneaking food from the carrion kills of wolves. Just watch and be careful and run if you had to. That was all he had to do.
He stepped closer.
---
The smell of dog --or was that wolf?-- was the most concerning thing about this place because the dog-wolf would smell him back, but he hoped that she might be sleeping. He stayed away from her freshest scents, and sniffed around the outside of the camp for any food that might be laying around. He knew that sometimes humans left food over the fire or to dry in the sun, but he didn't see any of that here.
That was too bad for the coyote, but no matter. He crouched as low to the ground as he could, trying to be quiet quiet quiet, and avoided the outside animals as he sniffed about for the most likely tent.
It took some peeking in and out til he found it. There were a few tents here, and he had to find the one that smelled most like food and that hopefully had no people in it. Eventually he came to a place that seemed likely and, with a nervous huffed breath, he slipped entirely inside. His eyes were better than a human's in the dark but he took a moment anyways to hold still, scoping out the area. When he was ready he moved forward with his tail tucked close to his body, nose to the ground, searching.
He found what he was looking for quickly and began nosing through items of food, looking for something that he wouldn't have to cook as he didn't know how. Soon enough he came to the smell of dried meat. That was good. But the meat was wrapped in cloth and it was hard to get to with no hands.
It was as he was carefully trying to separate meat from wrappings that he heard something, some small noise that had not been there before. The coyote froze for three long moments, heart thudding, taking a few deep breaths. Then he grabbed a large mouthful of cloth and food between his teeth and tore it quickly from the rest.
Now he was certain he heard something moving. He turned tail, taking the meat and tattered bits of cloth with him, and ran. Straight out the flap of the tent, past the fire, past some of the pavilion's horses which made a collective, startled noise. Then he was dodging tents and keeping to the shadows and running out into the safety of the grass, back to mother and child.
.
.
early morning
He found the abandoned campsite far enough out in the grass that he was not certain it was even in the city. It was small and lonely, set far back from the tents that were closest to it, as if the others thought it unwanted or unclean. There were no animals grouped around the single rundown tent, at least not that the coyote could see, and that meant that there could not be Drykas there, for most Drykas had many animals.
He was surprised to find the fresh scent of human and dog when he came closer. Knowing it was a mistake but not exactly caring, the canine came closer yet.
It wasn't until he stepped around the tent towards the low fire that he saw them: a blank-faced young woman staring down at the dying embers, a toddler-child grasping at her clothes with one hand and signing hungry over and over with the other. If the mother felt her child or heard his sad sniffling, she paid no mind. She just looked at the fire, and didn't even notice when the coyote crept up close to her other side.
---
He wasn't exactly certain that what he was doing was a good thing, by human standards, but he was certain that it was a necessary thing.
Muddled thoughts of what humans called ownership and property and money and even wealth swirled in his head, but the coyote was not really concerned with those things at the moment. He blinked his eyes to get rid of them, instead bringing to mind the little boy and empty-faced mother who could not help her child while she was... like she was. Wake-sleeping.
The canine got down low to the ground, a golden-tinged shadow in the low firelight of the early city, and slunk on.
---
He had found the perfect place --the perfect target-- and still he held back. His head was telling him that this was not really a good idea --especially being a coyote in the city, where he had been shot at before-- but his heart was telling him that somewhere back in the grass the child was whimpering. He tried to calm his own quick-panting breathing before he moved on.
The camp was quiet. He had chosen it because he had not seen many people moving around, like in other pavilions, and because there were many animals here. Horses and dogs, zibri and cats and goats and bird, more horses and dogs; that many animals meant that this place had to have enough food for all, yes? And some to spare for a small hungry belly. Maybe a bit more for the mother, too.
He told himself that taking food from humans was just like sneaking food from the carrion kills of wolves. Just watch and be careful and run if you had to. That was all he had to do.
He stepped closer.
---
The smell of dog --or was that wolf?-- was the most concerning thing about this place because the dog-wolf would smell him back, but he hoped that she might be sleeping. He stayed away from her freshest scents, and sniffed around the outside of the camp for any food that might be laying around. He knew that sometimes humans left food over the fire or to dry in the sun, but he didn't see any of that here.
That was too bad for the coyote, but no matter. He crouched as low to the ground as he could, trying to be quiet quiet quiet, and avoided the outside animals as he sniffed about for the most likely tent.
It took some peeking in and out til he found it. There were a few tents here, and he had to find the one that smelled most like food and that hopefully had no people in it. Eventually he came to a place that seemed likely and, with a nervous huffed breath, he slipped entirely inside. His eyes were better than a human's in the dark but he took a moment anyways to hold still, scoping out the area. When he was ready he moved forward with his tail tucked close to his body, nose to the ground, searching.
He found what he was looking for quickly and began nosing through items of food, looking for something that he wouldn't have to cook as he didn't know how. Soon enough he came to the smell of dried meat. That was good. But the meat was wrapped in cloth and it was hard to get to with no hands.
It was as he was carefully trying to separate meat from wrappings that he heard something, some small noise that had not been there before. The coyote froze for three long moments, heart thudding, taking a few deep breaths. Then he grabbed a large mouthful of cloth and food between his teeth and tore it quickly from the rest.
Now he was certain he heard something moving. He turned tail, taking the meat and tattered bits of cloth with him, and ran. Straight out the flap of the tent, past the fire, past some of the pavilion's horses which made a collective, startled noise. Then he was dodging tents and keeping to the shadows and running out into the safety of the grass, back to mother and child.
.
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"Speaking in Common"
"And in Vani{descriptors}"
"And in Tukant [implications, descriptors]"
"And in Pavi" grassland sign
