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| Miyu |
Posted: Oct 4 2009, 09:16 PM
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Wanderer
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The sun had already sunk below the horizon, the deep reds and violets of the autumn sunset feathering into indigo. There was still ambient light washing the leaf-covered ground, though, radiating from the gold-dipped full moon. It was what they called a "blood moon", wasn't it? Slay watched the decidedly red disc with curiosity, his ice-pale eyes only partly obscured by the shaggy hair of his werewolf mane. He had seen these red moons before, but only in the fall months. He was trying to remember the significance that his superstitious birth pack had attributed to the red moon... Was it good hunting? They certainly didn't have anything to harvest, up in the frigid north. With a derisive snort, the lumbering werewolf returned to what he was doing. His broad-shouldered frame loomed above the trellises of the vineyard, their spiraling vines reaching playfully to catch on his elbows and tail as he walked down the unkempt rows. Since the autumnal equinox had already passed - along with his birthday - the grapes were ready to harvest. And thanks to the shining light of the full moon, he could do so in the cover of night. He grasped the ends of an old burlap sack between his claws, plucking the plump wild grapes with his teeth and dropping them into his bag. It was his own private harvest celebration. He would save the best to surprise his mate - did Cercelee eat grapes? He had no idea, really, she was usually a dyed-in-wool carnivore. He had found a family of quail to satisfy that aspect, too. But for now, alone with the harvest moon, Slay emerged from the tangled vines triumphantly swinging his sack of grapes. These were for his own midnight snack. He liked the sweetness of fruit - and honey, but he dared not tempt the bees again like he had during the summer. He knew his eating habits were odd - fish and fruit were his favorites, rather than the standard rabbits and deer - but everything about the male was odd, he knew that much. His fur, his eyes, his sleeping pattern, his oversized werewolf form, etc etc. As long as Cercelee was okay with it, he would try not to let it bother him so much. Tonight was set aside for welcoming the new season, grape style! He felt a small twinge of sadness, though - he had promised Catalyst de Sadira that when the grapes were ready in the fall, he would share them with her. But she had left with her siblings, and he was picnicking solo instead... |
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| Rust |
Posted: Oct 13 2009, 01:43 PM
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Wanderer
insatiable appetite lady of lies |
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| Miyu |
Posted: Oct 18 2009, 12:19 AM
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Wanderer
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The sudden voice came out of nowhere. Startled, Slay fumbled comically with the sack, scattering a few grapes in the process. When he found the presence of mind to set the burlap down at his feet and turn, he found himself staring at a packmate he did not quite recognize. The vivid blue eyes seemed familiar, so perhaps they had seen each other from a distance...? The last pack gathering he had been highly distracted by the puppies he was in charge of, so it was not impossible that he had simply missed her. He swallowed, embarrassed by his reaction and by his tousled appearance. He would never get used to this werewolf business, would he? Silly, that he was a born and bred Luperci, but felt so damn unnatural prancing around on two legs. It felt like everyone he met was just staring at him like a sideshow attraction. "Yeah, I like them, at least," he admitted with a chuckle, pushing his shaggy mane back from his face. He liked chatting, but had always failed miserably at initiating the socialization. Having found a comfortable dwelling to hide in, he barely ever left his mate's side. Ironic, that he had been there to found this pack, but most of its new members didn't even know his name. "You're welcome to try some... if you're curious, m'dear." Slay smiled, giving her an appraising glance. That was friendly, wasn't it? Maybe if she stayed to talk, he could figure out what her name was without needing to ask her and making a fool of himself. She seemed pretty confident - should he worry about her rank? The bulky arctic wolf scooped the sack of fruit in his arms, shuffling from the vineyard to the open grass beneath the red light of the moon. He then glanced over his shoulder, pale eyes curious to see what the strange woman would do. |
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| Rust |
Posted: Oct 27 2009, 04:44 PM
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Wanderer
insatiable appetite lady of lies |
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| Miyu |
Posted: Nov 2 2009, 10:40 AM
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Wanderer
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Slay laughed aloud at the look on her face, the almost indignant way she snubbed the vineyard's offerings. "Probably not all of them... right away," he mused playfully, popping one between his jaws. Ahh, the sweetness was what he craved. Delicious! If only fruit was available all year round, instead of only during the end of summer. "You know, this is what wine is made out of," he added conversationally, settling down on his haunches atop the cool grass. This night might not be so lonely after all. The hunter glanced at her furtively through his shaggy mess of a mane, trying again to place her face with a name. And failing, of course; perhaps they hadn't met after all? He had been woefully antisocial lately, a poor habit of his. He had been a loner for far too much of his life, shunning packs and families and all that nonsense. Now he was rather too old to be wandering wherever his whims carried him, and Cercelee had successfully pinned him to one place -- although if she ever decided to leave the pack behind and start a new life on her own, he knew he wouldn't hesitate to follow her. Things were probably safer here, though, despite the looming threat of Inferni or another pack war, not to mention those dratted steel traps that kept springing up around the borders. At least those kept intruders out too. At least he didn't have to worry about that brute Corvus anymore, the one who had beaten him until he passed out. He was only just getting over that... |
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| Rust |
Posted: Nov 8 2009, 10:28 PM
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Wanderer
insatiable appetite lady of lies |
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| Miyu |
Posted: Nov 14 2009, 07:36 PM
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Wanderer
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"Wine? It's that drink, you know, the uhh, fruity one... in the bottles," Slay explained awkwardly, gesticulating with his free hand. He had seen it at the last big pack gathering, around the bonfire; what season had that been, anyway? Could it have been an entire year ago? That seemed unlikely... although Haku's kids had been little puppies then, so it must have been. He shook his head, ruing how quickly time had passed him by. He certainly didn't feel five years old. "Wine is something humans made. It makes you funny if you drink too much of it. Like -- giggly, and you stumble a lot," he added unhelpfully. He had only tried a small taste of the stuff; it was sour to his tastebuds. He'd rather eat its parent fruit, the delicious grapes. The werewolf settled near him, determinedly eating more of the vineyard's offerings that she collected on the lap of her skirts. Slay hadn't been around many shifters that adopted clothing, so he found himself eying the garment out of curiosity. Dresses were supposed to be a feminine raiment, to the best of his meager knowledge. Would Cercelee ever want to wear one, if he found it for her? She was really a tomboy, though, so probably not. He was always trying to keep his eyes peeled for small gifts, since it made him feel a little better about having burdened her for so long -- "I'm sorry, what? Oh, Tokyo, right! I'm called Slay. My den is the church near here." He grinned in embarrassment, not intending to ignore her again. Distractions came easily to the daydreamer, though. |
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| Rust |
Posted: Dec 31 2009, 04:58 PM
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Wanderer
insatiable appetite lady of lies |
The fruity drink? Well, obviously it was made from some sort of fruit, then. And the only fruit that Tokyo had any first hand encounters with thus far in life was grapes. Thus, it really wasn't a hard deduction to make that wine was made of grapes. So if she had known what wine was, surely she would have known what it was made of. Simple logic. Strange what Slay said wine did to a wolf, though. How could a simple drink have the power to alter behavior? It unsettled her in no small bit. She had always been fairly apathetic towards human beverages and food products; now, though, she would surely be wary. If she ingested the wrong thing.. her careful careful control over her facial expressions, her very words, might slip, if he was telling the truth. And stumbling a lot was not graceful. "That stuff just sounds terrible. I can't believe anyone would ever drink that by choice." Very serious intonation. Maybe the drink was some sort of punishment, to chastise those who had been bad by forcing them to act like idiots? Tokyo shivered at the thought. That was just terrible. "What's a church, exactly, besides just a name for a building?" She had already expressed ignorance once, and this guy Slay seemed to know things, so she might as well press him for more information. It always seemed to unnatural to her, to stick oneself in a man-made construct, with strange walls and weird furniture. No, natural dens were the only thing for her. |
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