Post by Blackfeathr on Feb 4, 2011 20:18:22 GMT -5
It was a chilly November evening. The rain drizzled from a mottled, overcast sky, casting a gloomy grey over the surrounding woods, sparingly dotted here and there with some human civilization. A lone woodsmoke trail snaked up to the sky and dissipated into the clouded atmosphere.
There was a gravel path for horses marked through the thick woods. The rocks, stamped and obliterated by many hooves, glistened in the early evening gloom. A nose appeared out of the soggy brush, inhaling silently, quivering curiously. Slowly, it lowered to the gravel, smelling things, looking... smelling for something. The only tales these scents had to tell were of horses making their way over these stones sometime during the morning hours. There was a faint scent of cut wood... carriages, carrying people. Where there were people, there was food.
Just the thought of food sent a grumble into the stomach of the coyote in the brush. He sighed heavily, glancing over to the pinpoint of the hot-yellow of a fire in the hills below. Glancing around to be sure there were no dangers about, he stepped out of the brush and stretched, and shook himself. It's been slim pickings for a while now, especially with these humans corralling all the good meat. Perhaps he should roam farther away from these creatures, he thought, as he looked up at the sky, dotted here and there by a gliding crow. No, at the moment he was far too hungry to just run away, he concluded with a grunt. Plus he had a nice setup going on, or so he hoped. A human male, younger than most of his adult kind, had taken a liking to the coyote when he stumbled across his human camp looking to scavenge. The male, kept saying the word "Zeeboldt..." to the coyote, which he likened to his name. It was fine with him, he already had a name, but it didn't fit him. He wasn't his father. He would take on this new persona to amuse the human.
The boy had disappeared some weeks ago, though Zeeboldt was a solitary type, he was holding out for him, somewhere, deep down. He asserted himself that it was only for the security of having food scraps given to him by the human. No sort of inter-species friendship, no way.
Apart from the odd pheasant or mouse a few days ago, it was high time to get a big meal to sate his hunger. He was going to do what his kind does best. He allowed himself a subtle smirk as he plodded down the gravelly hill, his haunches bouncing in step-rhythm, his tail carefully hanging in placation. He painted the perfect picture of an obedient dog, perhaps a stray. Humans seemed to like those strange mottled half-breeds.
A ping of something akin to fear slid through his consciousness, a bit more icy than the cold, wet drizzle making its way through his fur. He, as well as his brethren, innately feared the man-beasts, for their weapons loud and deadly.
There's still woods left before the camp, I can always take refuge and steal by night, Zeeboldt's thoughts punctuated, and were dismissed with the shake of his muzzle. His shadowed brow furrowed, irises icy blue and determined, stared down the fortress with reckless abandon. Perking his quivering ears, he listened close for the sounds of the men settling down for the night... putting away their guns... their fear... their suspicions. Even though he was gearing himself up for a full-on solo-assault of their food stores, he could use a little help. But from whom? He knew no one. He had no friends, no family within a hundred miles or more. He knew his path that he chose was a one way street. He was just fine with that.
Lowering his haunches to sit on the damp foliage, he hissed a sigh, letting his fears dissolve with his steaming breath into the night. The sky was getting darker, and the drizzle was turning into cold rain drops on his flesh. It's do or die. Literally.
((This is an open RP, anyone can join :D and you can play as anyone or anything, be it human, canid, feline, mortal enemy, whatever you wish! Keep in mind this is set in the Northern part of N. America, around the NorthWest Canadian/NorthWest US wilderness, set around 1900-1910. Human settlements are sparse here, they are mostly temporary campsites for traveling groups. There is also a railroad project being worked on nearby, and that is what most of the able-bodied men are heading to, to help out with building the Northern Pacific railroad. Which will be a plot point possibly in this story. But anything goes, really. Let's just have fun, and I really really really want to not skimp out like I've been doing D:)
There was a gravel path for horses marked through the thick woods. The rocks, stamped and obliterated by many hooves, glistened in the early evening gloom. A nose appeared out of the soggy brush, inhaling silently, quivering curiously. Slowly, it lowered to the gravel, smelling things, looking... smelling for something. The only tales these scents had to tell were of horses making their way over these stones sometime during the morning hours. There was a faint scent of cut wood... carriages, carrying people. Where there were people, there was food.
Just the thought of food sent a grumble into the stomach of the coyote in the brush. He sighed heavily, glancing over to the pinpoint of the hot-yellow of a fire in the hills below. Glancing around to be sure there were no dangers about, he stepped out of the brush and stretched, and shook himself. It's been slim pickings for a while now, especially with these humans corralling all the good meat. Perhaps he should roam farther away from these creatures, he thought, as he looked up at the sky, dotted here and there by a gliding crow. No, at the moment he was far too hungry to just run away, he concluded with a grunt. Plus he had a nice setup going on, or so he hoped. A human male, younger than most of his adult kind, had taken a liking to the coyote when he stumbled across his human camp looking to scavenge. The male, kept saying the word "Zeeboldt..." to the coyote, which he likened to his name. It was fine with him, he already had a name, but it didn't fit him. He wasn't his father. He would take on this new persona to amuse the human.
The boy had disappeared some weeks ago, though Zeeboldt was a solitary type, he was holding out for him, somewhere, deep down. He asserted himself that it was only for the security of having food scraps given to him by the human. No sort of inter-species friendship, no way.
Apart from the odd pheasant or mouse a few days ago, it was high time to get a big meal to sate his hunger. He was going to do what his kind does best. He allowed himself a subtle smirk as he plodded down the gravelly hill, his haunches bouncing in step-rhythm, his tail carefully hanging in placation. He painted the perfect picture of an obedient dog, perhaps a stray. Humans seemed to like those strange mottled half-breeds.
A ping of something akin to fear slid through his consciousness, a bit more icy than the cold, wet drizzle making its way through his fur. He, as well as his brethren, innately feared the man-beasts, for their weapons loud and deadly.
There's still woods left before the camp, I can always take refuge and steal by night, Zeeboldt's thoughts punctuated, and were dismissed with the shake of his muzzle. His shadowed brow furrowed, irises icy blue and determined, stared down the fortress with reckless abandon. Perking his quivering ears, he listened close for the sounds of the men settling down for the night... putting away their guns... their fear... their suspicions. Even though he was gearing himself up for a full-on solo-assault of their food stores, he could use a little help. But from whom? He knew no one. He had no friends, no family within a hundred miles or more. He knew his path that he chose was a one way street. He was just fine with that.
Lowering his haunches to sit on the damp foliage, he hissed a sigh, letting his fears dissolve with his steaming breath into the night. The sky was getting darker, and the drizzle was turning into cold rain drops on his flesh. It's do or die. Literally.
((This is an open RP, anyone can join :D and you can play as anyone or anything, be it human, canid, feline, mortal enemy, whatever you wish! Keep in mind this is set in the Northern part of N. America, around the NorthWest Canadian/NorthWest US wilderness, set around 1900-1910. Human settlements are sparse here, they are mostly temporary campsites for traveling groups. There is also a railroad project being worked on nearby, and that is what most of the able-bodied men are heading to, to help out with building the Northern Pacific railroad. Which will be a plot point possibly in this story. But anything goes, really. Let's just have fun, and I really really really want to not skimp out like I've been doing D:)
