Teaching Prey to Be Predator (Belgar)

[Sharth]

Spring 71, 511 AV

Sharth exited the crystal like gates with a simple nod to the Icewatch. He was carrying his large quarter staff and nothing else. His fur was a brilliant white to match the terrain, and his winter coat had fully grown in. He could now tell that it was cold but couldn't feel its frigid bite. It was nice to finally not be freezing like his arrival trip. He was meeting a new acquaintance out here. A bear by the name Belgar. He was to learn tracking, the local area, and maybe some Vani. He had picked up snippets of words here and there. Like the words for himself and his large stick.

He walked out a ways from the gates. He was told to travel directly out the gate until he could no longer see the gate and then wait. Having arrived at the location he began to examine the area. White as far as the eye could see. He noticed tracks heading in various directions but couldn't tell what they were. He figured he had arrived early, ad the wind was whipping hard. He figured some basic shelter would be more comfortable. He crouched down and shot his arm deep into the frigid snow. He quickly pulled an armful up and piled it between him and the wind. He did this until he had a hole deep enough to sit in, the wind now avoiding him. It wast super comfortable, but better than he'd been. So he sat and waited for his companion.

[Belgar]

When Belgar found the man he meant to find, he walked no longer as a giant bear, but rather as a naked man with the build of an experienced fighter. On the small of his chest, Morwen’s mark almost glowed with use. The cold did not bite too hard but, despite his gift, even he could not protect himself from his native elements for long with naught but his skin to cover him.

Nonetheless, it was necessary to speak with the jamoura before they began. Belgar’s broken Common sounded staccato as he tried to mask his deep and melodic Vani accent. “Hello,” he said, unsure if the language required any elaboration on the greeting, “We go quietly. No talk.” He did not know how to describe that he would not be able to communicate due to the inherent limits of djed, but he assumed Sharth would catch on.

Then, with the conspicuous glow of that djed, the man was a bear again. Though the new warmth was more than comforting, shifting twice in the same few minutes made him feel temporarily dizzy. His head lowered for a moment. When he raised it, the upper half of his body followed; he stood at his greatest height for better maneuvering of his front limbs. Though he could not know if the jamoura was capable of speaking the language of the Icewatch mounts, there were a few words he should at least recognize, in case of any trouble. He gestured his large paw to his guest and, in that rumbling and ambiguous Bear-Tongue, said, “You.” He turned his claw towards himself and growled, “Me.”

The snow shuddered around him as he fell to stand on all four legs, but as he took a few steps forward, he padded almost delicately through his natural habitat. Then he turned his head behind him and used it to signal that he should follow: an attempt to teach a final word, “Come.”

He led him into the wilderness, nose in the air. The early morning snow was deep and light, but the kelvic knew where to step so as to leave the least impression. The strong wind turned their shallow footprints into vague pockets in the snow as he danced around the tracks of hastier creatures. It would be difficult to track much anything in this weather, but he relished in the challenge. His eyes and nose searched for something interesting to show Sharth, but he would not hesitate to oblige the jamoura should he ask a question or suggest some other route.

.

[Sharth]

Sharth watched as the naked Kelvic man approached. He knew Kelvic did not often wear clothing when it wasn't required. Jamoura had no use for clothing after all. However, this climate here seemed to call for clothing or fur. He saw the man had some glowing mark on his chest. Maybe it was some sort of magical means of staying warm. Sharth stood up and stepped up and out of the hand made shelter.

He listened to the man communicate in simple common. Sharth had asked for some minor translations of Vani in town earlier, and responded in the man's native tongue, "Greetings." He noticed the language sounded quite odd coming from himself, very low and guttural, but still retained the booming resonance of his race. When the man told him to not talk during the hunt, he responded once more in Vani, "Yes."

He watched the man glow and he became the large, white bear. While the Jamoura was considered large by most people's standards, but he was nowhere near as massive as this bear. The bear raised up on it's hind legs, a seemingly unnatural position, but showed just how much taller it was than himself. He appeared twice as tall, if not taller. Surely this creature was at the top of the food chain in this area. He watched the bear gesture to him and speak in bear tongue, and then gestured to himself. Sharth made a mental note to remember these sounds.

The ground shook as the bear dropped to all fours, and he looked back at Sharth and said something more in Bearspeak. Sharth assumed it to mean follow or something similar. Bearspeak wasn't a whole lot different from the language the more beastly Jamoura used, so it was easier to remember the sounds. Sharth dropped to all fours as well and followed the large bear. It would be easier to keep up by traveling on his knuckles than walking upright. He attempted to follow in the bear's footsteps as much as possible, but the strides were so far apart this was not always possible. Sharth could make out tracks in the snow, but was unable to identify what they belonged to. He merely followed, waiting on his companion to locate something, while he kept his own eyes and ears open for anything.

[Belgar]

Half an hour passed. Belgar’s pace was far from his fastest, for the sake of the tracking and observation rather than any doubt in Sharth’s running abilities. As the wind tore at his fur in the wide open tundra and tossed the snow over his feet, his search led him through only a winding collage of indescribable scents. Even if he could tell the foreigner to sniff the air, even if he could describe what each whiff meant, he did not know whether a jamouran nose could adequately distinguish them. He wanted to give him a lesson that he could use, and almost everyone could use their eyes.

And so their journey led them to a pine forest, where the wind could not blow so hard. Many animals sought their shelter there, plenty to be seen this time of year. The snow was much shallower, as well; this season, it even receded enough to reveal the dirt underneath, where saplings struggled in their first years of life. His large paws tried to avoid the precious green sprouts, but he inevitably trampled them as he progressed along the forest’s edge. Because the foliage grew thicker at its middle than even that which surrounded the Snowsong Hold, Belgar could not venture too far in. Simply put, the bear would not fit.

The obvious noise and smell lead him to a colony of canopy finches, pecking at the conifers urgently to feed their screaming chicks. Below them, in the shrubs and undergrowth, another species foraged for the same purpose. With his nose, Belgar pointed to a splatter of grey feces on the ground and then to the latter, inferring that one belonged to the other. Then he delicately nudged a tiny sack on the ground, filled with the tidy defecation of the former’s nestlings, and pointed to the higher nesters. Recognizing one set of droppings was more important than the other.

Willing to suffer their wrath, Belgar nudged a tree full of them. As he expected, the little brown finches erupted from the tree like a wave on a cliff, diving towards the intruder beaks first. With an almost jovial grunt, he trotted away from them until they decided he was sufficiently far. They would have attacked Sharth, too, if he did not follow. It was a simple, but important, thing to watch out for in the Reaches’ late Spring.

Even as he fled, the Kelvic kept alert. Where he stopped, there were a set of two tracks in the slush: both hooves, though of different shapes and sizes. They headed the same direction for now, but would probably separate as they followed one or the other. He already knew them both; it was for his guest to decide, which one he would rather learn. If Sharth were to join him where he stood, Belgar would have touched his nose to the each print and asked him to choose. “You,” he muttered.

[Sharth]

Sharth followed the massive bear for a while, taking in deep breaths of frigid air into his nostrils, trying to decipher various smells, while his eyes scanned the snow for tracks that didn't belong to either of them. So far the only thing he could smell was the stench of his partner, his own smell masked while he was in his winter camouflage. He could tell other smells were mingled in but didn't know what they belonged to or in what direction. He watched as the bear was constantly sniffing, not sure if he was following a trail or not.

They began coming up on a grove of pine trees. While not his favorite types of trees, he was happy to be back in his own element of plantlife. Coniferous trees were always a bother. Sticky, sap covered wood, needles and pine seeds constantly getting lodged into one's fur. He made a mental note of this location. A half bell out the gate and a half bell northeast. He'd have to try to put this on paper when they arrived back in town. He noticed the wind here was far less harsh, and if he sought shelter, this would be a good choice. He heard some small woody snaps and looked in horror as his companion trampled on newly growing sprouts. He didn't want to break the silence by vocalizing, so he quickly said a prayer to Caiyha within his own mind for each sprout he saw destroyed. He vowed to plant more seedlings when he could. He would return at a later time to fulfill his vow. He then began walking on his strong fingers and toes to avoid crushing the tiny trees still clinging to life.

Sharth could hear the familiar sounds of birdsong. He used to listen often to them back home. These ones however sounded distressed. He couldn't blame them, many of them would have young ones and now there were two massive creatures near them. His companion indicated the two types of feathered friends, and which droppings belonged to which species. Sharth quickly lodged the coloring, size, song, appearance and smell of the droppings and the type of home they lived in, all into his vast and powerful memory. Maybe he would make a log when he returned.

Then the bear did something quite unusual. He nudged the birds tree, and their song switched from panic to anger. Sharth figured this was somehow teaching, so he didn't question the action. He worried for the little baby birds however, since most predators of them waited until the parents left the nest. He hurried along quickly, carefully so as to not disturb any saplings as the birds gave out territorial and triumph cries.

He caught up to the bear to see him indicating two sets of tracks, hooves in appearance. After studying them, he focused on the size, shape, and distance between hooves. One creature was distinctly larger than the other. So while speaking in his broken Vani, he indicated the larger track, "Big Hunt."

[Belgar]

If it were possible, Belgar would have smiled. Not only did it soothe his ears to hear a foreigner try at Vani, but Sharth was a creature after his own heart, to choose the more ambitious course. For a moment he forgot that they were only following the tracks, lead on by the whims of wild fauna; the thrill of the hunt welled in his stomach. Though he could not explain it to his partner, he had chosen tracks of a size that could only belong to a moose. This bear had not tasted the great elk since Fall.

Then he remembered. He had heard the jamoura’s careful toes tread almost whimsically behind him, and could only guess it was to avoid the tiny living obstacles in their path. He did not know whether beasts shared Sharth’s reverence, but perhaps it was best to assume so. With a vague nod of acknowledgement, Belgar stifled his previous inclinations and began to walk alongside the tracks. He endangered more plantlife in his wake in order to preserve the object of his attention, trying to match the stride of the animal that had traversed this area in the recent past. He could not know if his attempt was accurate, but he figured he could even teach himself a few things on this journey.

Consumed with the project, he almost did not notice that the tracks stopped in one place, where the moose had stirred an abundance of pine needles, presumably to itch his ear on the branches or taste the bitter leaves. He dwelled on it longer than he would have otherwise, trying to suggest to Sharth that he make the same observation. As he paused, a particularly strong breeze pierced the forest’s bastion of trees and carried with it a faint scent that Belgar would not have otherwise recognized: that of blood. But there were many animals here, prey and predator alike. He became wary, but hardly troubled. He raised his nose to search for other smells, and continued on.

Not five chimes from that place, the snow became suddenly slick with half-frozen mud, mixed by some sort of activity or tumult. The foliage around the clearing was similarly disturbed and the tracks were thoroughly drowned in the sludge, though he saw out of the corner of his eye a hint of their continuation in another direction. The bear could not determine how recently the mysterious commotion had occurred. He would have been alarmed, but the only trace of blood was its odor in the air, far away from here. Belgar wondered if his student could detect it.

To one side, the Kelvic noticed a large brown thing, half-buried in the loose earth. He padded to it and pulled it up with his teeth, revealing an entire antler to the other man. Its base was covered in mud, so he could not even try to determine how long ago it had been shed, but the felt on its surface was still soft on his tongue. He moved to Sharth and dropped the large, flat thing before him, offering the souvenir as both a prize and a hint at the animal he would ultimately see.

[Sharth]

Sharth followed carefully, continuing to avoid stepping on any of the smaller trees. He noticed a shift in the way his partner walked, almost as if he were purposefully avoiding the hooved tracks. Sharth attempted to take in as many details as possible. He looked around, first seeing the tiny trees, in comparison to his home. He watched as his companions massive paws were able to walk softly and quietly, the pads on his feet absorbing the shock. Sharth noticed his own knuckles were doing something quite similar, though not nearly as effectively. He listened to the air, bot hearing much aside from their own movements and breathing. He sniffed the frigid air and found something out of place. He smelled pine, and the musky animal scent of his companion, but something else was in the air. A faint hint, almost like a metal. But then the scent escaped him.

Sharth noticed the bear stop and begin examining some low hanging pine branches. If he were mulling over it, Sharth figured he should as well. Sharth noticed a disturbance among the needles, then looked down to see the hooved tracks. He assumed that this creature had stopped for some purpose involving the branches. Sharth thought about his home in the forests south of here, figured the creature tried tasting the needles. Sharth found a needle on the ground and picked it up. He stuck it in his mouth and chewed on it. He found it quite bitter and waxy, but managed to swallow it. Not something he would try again. As the wind picked up, the metallic smell returned, a bit stronger this time. It smelled familiar but he couldn't quite place it.

The bear continued onward, and Sharth noticed changes in the ground. The ground went from snow, to a dirty slushy mixture. Sharth thought it looked similar when wild hogs from back home dug in wet soil for roots. But he didn't think wild hogs lived in this climate so he was at a loss. He then saw the bear pull a large antler out of the earth, much larger than any he had seen back in Spires. He picked it up, looking it over. Most of the ones from home were like spikes, but this was more akin to bark or something similar. But it was soft and cloth like as well. He held onto it as he looked to Belgar for further leading.

[Belgar]

OOCDidn’t know what else to show you, so here's something a little more interesting to reply to.

With a rather human nod, the bear turned to the plain set of tracks that led out of the peculiar clearing. He followed them as before, careful not to tarnish them. Only a few steps into the usual wilderness, however, and he began to sense that something was awry. Unhindered by the stirrings of dirt and snow and pine, the smell of blood increased dramatically. The tracks were further apart and dug deeper at the toe, suggesting a faster pace, but Belgar did not think it wise to demonstrate that pace with his own paws. The circumstances required caution and quiet. He had not thought to teach him the words careful or danger, and he did not want to confuse him by uttering nonsense, so he simply glanced back at the white ape, a moment of stern silence to propose he show the same restraint.

There emerged another set of tracks beside the moose’s, deep pits in the snow that were distorted by the animal’s haste. He examined a few and could detect nothing but the fresh lines of movement. They became more frequent after a sharp turn, suggesting the addition of others—and not more cervids. Finally his black eyes discovered the indention of a single misplaced paw.

Wolves.

“Me,” he muttered almost unintelligibly as he moved ahead. With no way of knowing the foreigner’s skills, he did not want to endanger him needlessly. Still, he did not look behind to see whether the Jamoura stayed as he followed his nose into a clearing hidden by thick trees, far from the beaten path. Sure enough, the growing stench of death lead him to a moose carcass, its belly wide open and its head missing an antler, surrounded by six snarling grey predators.

For a few moments the clearing was suspended in the stares of surprised eyes. Belgar gripped the ground nervously. He had been on the opposite side of this situation before; he knew that a group of animals could easily outfight a single one, despite the fact that one adult wolf was the size of his arm. He stepped back. A bloody muzzle growled. The rest followed suit, filling the air with the low rumble. Unsure how to communicate, the bear lowered his nose and growled back, taking another step behind. But that show of submission was their cue defend the meal, or join in on the game, or do whatever it was that wolves did when they are offended. Apparently convinced that bear fat would make a good dessert, each of them suddenly rushed at him.

[Growl]

Appreciation Time! Name: Sharth Experience: +1 Socializing, +1 Tracking, +2 Observation Lore: Waiting, It's Petching Cold!, Following an Over-sized Bear Name: Belgar Experience: +1 Socializing, +3 Tracking, +1 Observation, +1 Teaching Lore: Trying to Teach Another Basic Words in Bear, It's Petching Cold!, The Scent of Blood, Being Attacked by Wolves Additional Notes: Sorry the thread ended so soon. PM with questions and/or concerns!