Leander had definitely not taken the boar down all by himself, but carrying it had inexplicably become a solo effort. The rest of his hunting party was far too busy prancing around in triumphant glee to think about transporting the prey back to camp. He should've scolded but didn't have the heart. Hell, the Beta could understand their feelings. It had been a long time since Fawnstalker had been treated to anything but skinny deer and twitchy, emaciated rabbits. This was something to celebrate.
It had not come easily. The beast had fought like a demon and there had been a few moments where even Leander had been nervous that one of those tusks would skewer somebody. But thank the masters- no one had been seriously hurt. And after the boar had weakened, he'd gotten the privilege of scoring the killing blow. It was always a thrill.
Dragging such an enormous feast through the camp stirred up a small, eager crowd (and also left a groove in the dirt). Leander postured himself proudly beside their kill to rest in the sun as he watched Pack members come up to take their share. It was his job to make sure the ones that needed it ate first, but he didn't need to be overly vigilant about that. For once, there was plenty for everyone.
ooc; The very first thread on the board! *confetti*
leander || 2 || rhodesian ridgeback mix || fawnstalker || beta icon credit ~mutation: sharp, plated spikes traveling up his spine to the base of his neck, and on his tail. eyes that become redder when enraged.
The commotion of the hunting party's success was enough to draw Face's attention away from trying to catch insects before they could burrow back into the soil, ears perking at the ruckus before his nose smelled the scent of blood. His stomach rumbled and for once, he knew there would be plenty of food, and his tail wagged as well--only with his short stump of a tail, it was more along the lines of just his rump shaking about while he made a bee-line towards the pack's meal.
It was no surprise to Face when he saw who was standing by the kill proudly, rear wagging more in admiration for the pack's Beta. Leander was definitely one of the pack's best, as far as Face was concerned, and he definitely didn't have a bias based on how often the older dog took him own to train, either.
"This thing's massive!" he commented, black eyes flicking up towards the Beta briefly before looking over the boar again. He stepped closer, sniffing at the meat while his mouth watered over imagining the taste. Still, he hadn't been a member of the pack long, and even while the others pups started in, Face hesitated. "Is it okay for me to eat now?" he asked, glancing towards Leander for confirmation before he made a move towards the boar.
face // male // jack russell mix // fawnstalker // tenderfoot
An amused growl thrummed in the larger dog's throat, and at the mutt's exclamation of "This thing's massive"! it turned into a warm chuckle. He got up from his lazy position, instinctively folding his spiked tail behind him to avoid someone bumping into it and getting a nasty cut on their way to dinner.
Even after all this time, Leander still wasn't above showing off. He raised his heavy russet head in a way that struck him as especially noble and wise-seeming. Tenderfoots who had once been strays like Face were especially impressionable, even a little insecure and it did them good to look up to their elders. In his opinion, that meant the elders had to try extra hard to be something worth looking up to.
"Being a prey hunter isn't so tame after all, hm"? Leander reached out his paw to tap one of those jutting tusks. "This lot's more likely to kill you than any dog I know. Beady little eyes just brimming with hate. Foaming mouth. Stunk worse than a polecat and made twice the noise. He smells a hell of a lot better now that he's dead, Face, I'll tell you that much".
At Face's question, his grin disappeared so he could gaze over the busy little gathering. "Lemme see now..".
He relaxed after just a moment.
"You're fine to eat. Lucky dog. Looks like you made it before all the other pups".
leander || 2 || rhodesian ridgeback mix || fawnstalker || beta icon credit ~mutation: sharp, plated spikes traveling up his spine to the base of his neck, and on his tail. eyes that become redder when enraged.
"But not every kill is like this one," Face argued, lightly nudging his nose against its dirty fur to get a better whiff of it, cringing slightly at the scent past the blood. If he smelled better now, Face would have hated to have been tracking him while he was alive. "Rabbits and small critters like we have a lot couldn't hurt us!" It was definitely true, what Leander was saying, about the dangers of hunting the boar, and he absolutely believed him. It didn't take a genius to note the tusks on the thing and one didn't need a wild imagination to figure out what it could do to a dog with them either.
He was still sure that being a fighter was more interesting than being a preyfinder, but he didn't want to argue with Leander any further about it--being a member of the pack was a fortunate enough gift from them, he wasn't going to nitpick about where they placed him within it. Even so, he doubted they'd want him as a preyfinder with his weak sense of smell.
Still, talking about anything hardly seemed important when he was being offered food, eagerly tearing himself a piece of the flesh from the boar, mouth watering again as he tasted its blood on his tongue. He made short work of his share, and even if he already wanted more, he knew it was only fair to let the other members have their share before he even considered taking more of himself. "But like I was saying," he continued, raising one of his six paws to wipe at some of the blood still staining his chops, "not every catch is as cool or exciting as a boar, right? The rest must be so boring, just sniffing around and trying to be quiet and sneaky all the time... Before you were Beta, I bet you were a fighter, right? That must have been way more interesting!"
face // male // jack russell mix // fawnstalker // tenderfoot
Leander snorted in amusement at the Tenderfoot's enthusiastic line of babble and continued to watch him thoughtfully. It was true, Fighters were usually larger, meaner dogs but it was not unheard of for a smaller breed to succeed on ferocity alone. They definitely had the speed advantage. However, he had never seen Face raise his voice at another dog, let alone bite one. It didn't seem likely, but it would have been cruel to rain on his parade. Who knew, perhaps his aggression would increase if he stayed in the Pack longer.
Shame though, all those legs would make him a quick hunter.
He waited for him to start eating before answering.
"Oh this tail of mine was put to a lot of good use...scaring the shit out of deer"! Leander laughed. "Yes, I was a Preyfinder. And I got all the excitement I needed trying not to get gored. Sure, you have days where it's all rabbits and squirrels, but that means going after the big game is twice the sport. And let me tell you, there's nothing like dragging home something you killed yourself and watching the whole camp's ears perk".
He paused "Not to say bein' a Fighter isn't any good too. It's an honorable thing. Just wasn't for me. Too many dogs die without my contribution". He sighed. "Anyway, now that I'm the Beta, I need to be both".
leander || 2 || rhodesian ridgeback mix || fawnstalker || beta icon credit ~mutation: sharp, plated spikes traveling up his spine to the base of his neck, and on his tail. eyes that become redder when enraged.
Post by ☢ D a m u s ☢ on Jun 15, 2014 17:41:02 GMT -6
The scent of freshly killed prey wafting in on the breeze brought the old dog to his senses. He sat up slowly, blinking sleep blearily from cloudy white eyes. It had seemed like only a moment had passed since he'd fallen asleep, but it must have been quite some time. The hunting party had already returned from the smell, and sounds of it, and a pretty large kill at that. Jaws stretched in a massive yawn as the old dog stretched, his sore joints popping and crackling like a leaf in the cold season. Slowly, and with much effort he hauled himself to his paws, grunting heavily and staggering a few steps forward until he could draw himself from the shadows of his hiding space below a low hanging bush.
It wasn't long before he spotted the large mound of flesh laying at the other end of camp. A boar? Where on earth had they managed to find one? And so large! His stomach rumbled happily at the thought of food, but he'd wait. The others should eat their fill first, after all, they were much younger, and much more useful than he was. Still, he might as well have a good look before it was ravaged to bits.
Hobbling stiffly across the clearing, he made his way over just in time to hear the young pup called Face's comment on rabbits, waiting his turn before adding to the conversation.
"I wouldn't bet on that, young one." Damus rattled, his old voice sounding as if it had to be dragged from a parched throat. "A rabbit can give you a nasty bite, and their claws are even sharper than yours. Don't forget that even prey animals have ways of defending themselves... That is why one must be careful, and pay attention."
The proudfoot's eyes veered from pup to prey, scanning it carefully before settling himself onto his haunches beside the pack beta. "Yes, but you do a fine job of it too." He added more quietly, motioning towards the boar. "Well done."
Last Edit: Jun 15, 2014 17:42:43 GMT -6 by ☢ D a m u s ☢
[Damus - Male - Age: 245 dog years [58 human years) - Fawnstalker - Proudfoot.]
Face started at the older dog's approach, having paid so much attention to Leander that he'd let himself get distracted, and he internally scolded himself for letting a proudfoot sneak up on him, even if it hadn't been the old dog's intention. He spun to regard Damus for a moment, before he lightly settled on his haunches between the two, angling his ears towards the older dog while he spoke and curiously flexing his claws against the dirt. Even if they weren't the sharpest, it was hard to imagine a rabbit had sharper claws. And even with what Damus was saying, he couldn't imagine how embarrassing it must be for a dog to tell their pack that they'd lost a bit of rabbit because it had fought back with too much strength.
"Even still," Face replied, somewhat stubbornly now, "I still think I'd prefer being a Fighter." It wasn't just because catching kill sounded like a boring chore in comparison to defending their lands from intruders and protecting the pack--he knew his nose wasn't the best since his accident and he didn't want to risk losing a meal because he couldn't sniff it out properly, but would the pack even want him around if they his sense of smell was so handicapped? It wasn't the sort of thing the pup wanted to stress about.
It had surprised him to learn a dog like Leander was not a Fighter--his mutation looked like it would have done well for him there, and even while Face aspired to be a Fighter, he certainly couldn't say he'd be ready and willing to charge at a dog with spikes lining his back very easily. "I guess you still prefer being a Preyfinder over a Fighter even though you do both now, huh?" Angling his muzzle slightly towards the elder, Face raised an ear in curiosity. "Were you a Preyfinder too, Damus?" It only made sense he was, given his story about the rabbit and all.
face // male // jack russell mix // fawnstalker // tenderfoot
Leander could remember Damus looking about the same when he himself had only been a puppy. The Proudfoot never seemed to change, he simply got continually scuffed and weathered, like a cliff face. It was sort of sad to see him limping around camp with those blank eyes, looking a bit lost, but he'd never been anything but loyal to his Pack. Even now, getting a quiet compliment from him made the Ridgeback's heart swell with pride.
Leander whupped the flat his large tail against the ground behind him and laughed. "Well there you have it Damus. I don't think we'll be convincing this one of anything". He eyed the Tenderfoot, not unkindly. "It's good to have an ambition, Face. It'll make you fiercer. You can't make a dog do something he doesn't want to, anyway. Not really."
A moment later, he lifted his ears as if something just occurred to him. "Have you eaten yet, Damus? Don't let our gossip keep you from your meal". Leander bended his head and without a pause, easily tore off a strip of good meat for the other dog with his long, sharp teeth, laying it at his feet respectfully. Proudfoots were always supposed to be one of first to eat, but in reality many of them came up last on their own volition, either because they were sleeping or simply lacked an appetite.
leander || 2 || rhodesian ridgeback mix || fawnstalker || beta icon credit ~mutation: sharp, plated spikes traveling up his spine to the base of his neck, and on his tail. eyes that become redder when enraged.
Post by ☢ D a m u s ☢ on Jun 16, 2014 23:11:10 GMT -6
Damus thought for a long moment, tilting his head up as if to look at the sky, his white eyes narrowing sleepily. "No, young one." He muttered softly. "I was not always a member of this fine pack. Yes, it has been many years since I came to be here..." His sides heaved with a sigh, before his gaze fell on the pup. "I lived most of my life alone, as a wanderer. I only became part of this pack as a proudfoot."
For a moment his expression faltered to an overwhelming look of sadness and remorse as memories of his younger days flooded back. Like a raging torrent of water it threatened to pull him under and drown him in it's churning, chaotic darkness.
Leander's question brought his thoughts back to the present, and he shook his head, more to clear it than to answer. Damus' tail waggled stiffly in appreciation, leaning down to sniff the meat at his paws. The smell instantly reminded him of just how hungry he actually was. His nearly concave belly rumbled loudly, as if in protest to his waiting. "Thank you." He mumbled as he began tugging small bits from the strip.
He paused a few moments later. "You know, Face. Preyfinders may not have the most glamorous of duties, but without them the pack would never survive. Without food, we would soon starve to death and turn to dust." The old dog chuckled warmly, tucking back into his meal.
[Damus - Male - Age: 245 dog years [58 human years) - Fawnstalker - Proudfoot.]
Face let out a short whine as Damus continued, trying not to sound ungrateful of the advice while at the same time mostly uninteresting in being lectured about what path was wiser for him to take--especially since he was fairly sure that when he was through being a tenderfoot, it wouldn't be his choice to make, but the Alpha's. "I know it's important, everyone needs food to eat..."
Still, he hadn't known Damus hadn't grown up a part of the pack, and it had him feeling a sort of kinship with the proudfoot, both outsiders who had been welcomed into something like a large family--even if it was a large family with rules that kept Face from being able to have any more of the boar than the scrap he'd pulled before. Not that he didn't understand why, but it didn't make watching Damus eat any easier.
"So neither of us were born here," he murmured, more thinking out loud than actively progressing the conversation. "But you were, right, Leander?" Surely the pack's Beta had been born into the pack--which made him wonder if the pack would ever accept someone who'd started as a loner into a position like Seer, Beta, or Alpha--not that he wanted a spot like that, but he was still curious now that the thought had crossed his mind.
face // male // jack russell mix // fawnstalker // tenderfoot
The Beta noticed Face beginning to squirm and felt a twinge of sympathy for him. If he was in the younger dog's position, he'd be itching to escape from these blathering elders by now. Leander was a little impressed that he still kept asking questions anyway, though.
"Me? Mmm Yeah. Born and raised here". Leander didn't have to add anything to the statement- it was obvious that being born into the Pack was a huge advantage and it seemed a bit tactless to gloat about it in front of two previous Strays. You were trained better and the dogs around you trusted you more on sight if you were born into a Pack litter- plain and simple. Maybe it wasn't fair but that was just the way it was.
But then, Leander hadn't actually won his title through popularity. He had forcibly taken the title from the previous Beta in combat- something he wasn't certain if Face knew but Damus surely did. Leander held his tongue on that issue too, wondering if the older dog would comment or leave it be.
leander || 2 || rhodesian ridgeback mix || fawnstalker || beta icon credit ~mutation: sharp, plated spikes traveling up his spine to the base of his neck, and on his tail. eyes that become redder when enraged.
Post by ☢ D a m u s ☢ on Jul 1, 2014 16:35:48 GMT -6
A long, pink tongue rolled over the old dog's muzzle as he finished off his meal and began to clean up, grateful that his belly was no longer aching with hunger. Still not full, but that never really mattered. He knew it would do no good either way. He could stuff himself to the point of bursting and still look as scrawny as ever.
Forepaws stretched forward as he stretched out in front of him, claws scoring the ground as he slid into a more relaxed posture. "That really tasted good. It's been a while since I've eaten so well." He rumbled happily.
"And a rowdy one he was too! Up to all kinds of mischief... But then what pup isn't?" Damus eyed Leander with a sideways glance, the corner of his muzzle tugging into a crooked smile. "Still.. He's come a long way from that rowdy pup that I once knew. I'm proud of him.. We all are." The smile dulled, and he gave a small, but knowing nod. Things had become much better since Leander had become beta. Much had changed. Low ranking pack members were no longer treated as lesser beings.
- - -
ooc;Fancy new table..
[Damus - Male - Age: 245 dog years [58 human years) - Fawnstalker - Proudfoot.]
While the prospect of food had been appealing to the dull pang that had settled in Caelum's stomach, the herbs wouldn't always hang around forever. He had always been confident that his position would allow for food to be saved, even if he was dawdling over whether pulling the burdock root now or a few hours later would really make a world of difference. While he was happy enough with the pack, his time was always dedicated to other pursuits of knowledge and healing, which seemed to be suffering through the summer season. Perhaps it seemed trivial to watch over the burdock root for so long, but who could even know how long the plant had gone without water?
Eventually deciding that he could ponder upon it for a while longer, Caelum had returned to the pack: eyes scanning over who was already eating. While it looked like Damus had just finished, he was unsure of the others. Face was still hanging around at least, meaning the good of the meat was probably still there. He wasn't always sure what to make of that one, almost too much trouble than he was worth: not that it was a view he was going to voice aloud.
"I didn't know that boar brought out the sentimental in all of us," he commented towards them, tone light and bored as he approached. It hadn't been hard to listen to the trio already talking, and there was no need to remain silent for food. The matters they spoke of weren't completely his business to care about, but a pack was a pack.
Leander panted happily as Damu spoke, not at all embarassed of mentions of his puppy hood the way other large, powerful dogs tended to be. There was a price for being lenient, but he didn't mind proving himself in battle if it meant being able to have fun once in a while. Having a belly full of good boar meat helped his mood. He hadn't eaten this well in ages, and felt energy glowing back into his stiff muscles. The pleasant feeling lasted for all of a single minuite before he heard a familiar cool tone cut through the mirth.
Shit. The blue buzzkill returns.
Still, Leander feigned graciousness and sat up politely- Seers were to be respected even if they were snooty pains in his tail bone.
"It's natural for a dog to be happy when he's had a good meal, Caelum. You should find out for yourself. You're working too hard these days". He didn't mention the obvious fact that Caelum was continually late, and it made it difficult to preserve meat, but his annoyance was implied in his words.
Just because he was supposed to be able to eat first didn't mean a Pack full of hungry dogs could wait around forever while he drug his ass around camp and studied berries- or whatever he did all day.
Luckily, Leander had been careful and there was just enough left to satisfy.
leander || 2 || rhodesian ridgeback mix || fawnstalker || beta icon credit ~mutation: sharp, plated spikes traveling up his spine to the base of his neck, and on his tail. eyes that become redder when enraged.
"You flatter me so," he replied, head slightly cocked at the tone. It wasn't a well kept secret that his dawdling seemed to ruffle a few feathers, but he placed his own knowledge before their annoyances. Food could always wait when there were still parts of the forest that needed his attention: what could be better than studying the surroundings? It wasn't as if they could afford to miss out on any advantage they could pull back.
Taking Leander's advice before he risked annoying the Beta further, Caelum began tearing at the boar. At least he hadn't left it too long this time, and the meat was more than welcomed into his stomach. He couldn't fault the rest of the pack and their hunting skills, that was for sure. As he tore strips from the boar, Caelum addressed Leander again. "But my work seems to be cut out for me. The plants are going scarce even faster this season. Do I leave them to dry out to the sun, or to be taken by someone else? Or even, are the flowers blue enough yet? These questions distract me so. "