Post by Akante on Feb 1, 2012 0:32:01 GMT -5
Waka said:
Ooc||
Only have two gunners and a lot more people as sailors.
Gotta fix that
Newly promoted gunners, this would be a great time to say hullo to Bresha.
_____________________
Dripping from a dead dog's eye.
So she had a rank now? Something to take up in her own special way and train. The large cat rolled from the ground and to her feet, black tail flicking and lashing about as that lone blue eye of her's searched around aimlessly. Looking for that familiar creature that haunted her...that damn bear.
When she was finally sure that the damn thing was no where in sight, the tigress loped her way towards a small puddle of water, leaning forward on powerful paws to lap up a drink, seemingly uncaring as some of the water slipped from the torn side of her face and through her teeth right back into the puddle she had drank from. The mixture of dark reds and pinks.. bruised purples and varying shades of rose the skin and scar was healed nicely stretching taunt against her face.
Loping to the nearest rock to rest her hulking weight against, heavy leathered paws rested upon the stone as she slowly pulled the rest of her body up, tail hanging freely below, curling and uncurling as her ears flicked back. A bellowing call thundered from the depths of her chest and radiated from up and out of her throat. Today she'd introduce herself to these new warriors... these thieves and scoundrels. And hell if others showed up, let them join.
She'd teach them to be the scourge of these marshes.
Beckzilla said:
Duty called.
Fairah was not used to responding to summons. She had been a lone agent for the first part of her life, wandering her own paths and living for herself. There was no one to answer to, no responsibilities. After that, she had started her own marsh pack - Duninch. They had occupied a fairly small stretch of land, but she had built them up. And she had been proud of Duninch. But then she had been the Queen, and everyone had been at her own beck and call. She had called the meetings. She had called the shots. She had been in charge. It had been her demanding howls which had echoed through the territory, requesting the presence of her subjects.
Now, things were different.
She was now a mere member of a pack. A commoner. A peasant? Well, not quite a peasant anymore. She had been promoted at the latest pack meeting (another summons to answer) from a Sailor to a Gunner. In other words, a fighter, a warrior, required to defend her pack and her Captain. Which suited the Blackblood cross female perfectly. She was brawn and brains.
There had been a weird roar thing that had sounded through the air. Which she suspected came from the throat of the tiger who had been promoted at the same meeting as her own promotion. Fairah, if she was perfectly honest, was not particularly impressed by a cat being above her in the ranks. However, she was also a master of disguise, so to speak, and her facial expression certainly wasn't going to give away her dislike of the situation. Pricking her ears in the direction of the call, she turned away from the border where she was patrolling and began to trot swiftly and silently towards the tiger, tail waving casually behind her.
Green orbs locked onto the cat as she came into sight. The Gunner stopped close to the tiger, nodding her head sharply in greeting. And that was it. No formal introduction, no beaming smile of greeting, no extravagant bow of respect. Just a nod. Her expression remained, as I mentioned before, enirely neutral. But her brain was working quickly.
I'm judging you, cat.
Miss. said:
She had grown older. A month had already passed and height, knowledge and weight had been added to her past self and she had matured. Her golden eyes could hardly be satisfied anymore her curiosity had died out and she suddenly understood that this world was filled up with lies and hypocrites. “Don’t steal” was certainly a sentence that her stuck to her mind but not in the since the wolf had hoped. She remembered it as a reminder to the contradiction to the place itself, a question of matter and she hadn’t earned herself a respond for the contradiction yet and she had come to believe that was simply how life appeared at this end of the world. Her pink tongue trailed over her beige muzzle before she leaped, sharply turning and jaws opening into a trap and her breathe came out in clouds of white fog, dissolving as it hit the much cooler air surrounding her and the thundering clamp in her ears as her jaws locked tightly on to the little creature. The fat bird kicked with its legs but it was hopeless and she gave it another crunch settling the deal.
No one had showed her or trained her in hunting she had had nothing but a sore concept and a picture from imagination and watching others hunt and fight. She had practiced over and over and only because of her own will to live and serve had she perfected herself in hunting at this rate. She knew that once she grew older she would be able to handle larger and faster prey and she happily settled for what her limitations in form her childhood gave her. She had put on in weight and spurred into the air like any other blackblood did. Even if she was a mutt she had the built of the blackblood in height and warrior material, her broad chest came from the artic within and her head was formed as a dire. She was successful at this rate and continued to spur this on she would be keeping her eyes open for anything. But that anything would turn out to be a sound. The sound of a roaring tiger.
She rose to all fours at the sound and at first she was alarmed and ready for a fight until she realized what the message within it was. Gunners. She didn’t move at first and it was not her food that called for her she had already torn most of it up and apart, no it was the feeling of not belonging. She was no gunner and she was not yet six months or had gone through the whole rite yet however. It was gunner she strived toward. Love, affection and recognition it was all written so clear to her that it were her goals, the things she needed to accomplish and she knew she could. Shyness and withdrawn would not get her there though and she walked toward the sound of the tiger. She didn’t come in with her head low or looking out of place but nor with her tail high like a confident little brat. She walked in and stood close by waiting to be addressed as to why she was there and she would wait till she was spoken to. She looked at the female already present and realized this was the third time she met her. Would she recognize her with her growth? She better.
Miss. said:
She had grown older. A month had already passed and height, knowledge and weight had been added to her past self and she had matured. Her golden eyes could hardly be satisfied anymore her curiosity had died out and she suddenly understood that this world was filled up with lies and hypocrites. “Don’t steal” was certainly a sentence that her stuck to her mind but not in the since the wolf had hoped. She remembered it as a reminder to the contradiction to the place itself, a question of matter and she hadn’t earned herself a respond for the contradiction yet and she had come to believe that was simply how life appeared at this end of the world. Her pink tongue trailed over her beige muzzle before she leaped, sharply turning and jaws opening into a trap and her breathe came out in clouds of white fog, dissolving as it hit the much cooler air surrounding her and the thundering clamp in her ears as her jaws locked tightly on to the little creature. The fat bird kicked with its legs but it was hopeless and she gave it another crunch settling the deal.
No one had showed her or trained her in hunting she had had nothing but a sore concept and a picture from imagination and watching others hunt and fight. She had practiced over and over and only because of her own will to live and serve had she perfected herself in hunting at this rate. She knew that once she grew older she would be able to handle larger and faster prey and she happily settled for what her limitations in form her childhood gave her. She had put on in weight and spurred into the air like any other blackblood did. Even if she was a mutt she had the built of the blackblood in height and warrior material, her broad chest came from the artic within and her head was formed as a dire. She was successful at this rate and continued to spur this on she would be keeping her eyes open for anything. But that anything would turn out to be a sound. The sound of a roaring tiger.
She rose to all fours at the sound and at first she was alarmed and ready for a fight until she realized what the message within it was. Gunners. She didn’t move at first and it was not her food that called for her she had already torn most of it up and apart, no it was the feeling of not belonging. She was no gunner and she was not yet six months or had gone through the whole rite yet however. It was gunner she strived toward. Love, affection and recognition it was all written so clear to her that it were her goals, the things she needed to accomplish and she knew she could. Shyness and withdrawn would not get her there though and she walked toward the sound of the tiger. She didn’t come in with her head low or looking out of place but nor with her tail high like a confident little brat. She walked in and stood close by waiting to be addressed as to why she was there and she would wait till she was spoken to. She looked at the female already present and realized this was the third time she met her. Would she recognize her with her growth? She better.