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roast - open; hunting stranger - Printable Version

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roast - open; hunting stranger - rhosmari - 01-17-2021

Ghostly wings moved through the air, silent and undetectable to the naked hearing. Her eyes searched and move, there was no room for mistakes as she easily curved though the skies. This foreign land did not bother her, she moved through it as easily as the trees of the forest that she had been born in. Spotting something it drew her attention and she watched the thing skitter across the ground. As unaware of her as many others had been as she flew over their heads. Most took her for nothing more than a non sentient bird. A large barn owl that lived among them and shared this place but then again perhaps some were curious. This tropical domain was not the most natural place for her to be but she hardly took notice of this. Pulling her wings forward just a bit to slow herself her eyes still stayed focused on the skittering vermin that moved through the brush. Her claws drew forward as she curved herself in an angled dive. Wind whipped through her feathers and she saw the angle, saw the speed in which she needed as she pushed her wings back further and then snapped them forward. Glinting talons came into contact with flesh, the shrill squeak of pain sounding out before she pushed herself back up and toward the trees.

It was here that she settled, shifting one toe backwards to help her grip the tree better. The rat was not dead yet and she was more intrigued to watch it squirm and struggle beneath her talons. Blood slipped along the branch and she flared her wings once before she pulled them against her body. Most usually killed their prey outright but she was more than content to watch it squirm in terror for a moment before her sharp beak came into contact with it's neck. That stopped the loud noises it was making and she tucked into her meal. Her metal encased claws clutched the rat and she tore it open with ease, snapping her beak here and there before golden red orbs lifted up to look around herself. Her white and brown dusted form became still for a moment before she went back to eating. She was making sure to keep herself informed about what was going on around her.



Re: roast - open; hunting stranger - Grimm - 01-18-2021

[div style="margin: auto; max-width: 475px; padding: 5%; min-height: 20px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; line-height: 17px;"]Aloft bore upon thermal undercurrent, carved a fragment occupied by the demanding spread of still span, a grace in subtle adjustment seafaring counterparts lacked. Pleasant the watch staged, the open expanse of golden brushed sand offering vantage point studied the movement, at home cradled in the belly of the sky. Never questioned the presence, though such may have been lack of knowledge pertaining to the habit of such an avian, indeed, reduced to another with the simple pathways controlled by the baseline of instinct the owl.

Among the tropical growth abundant across the secluded archipelago he, too, an oddity, fatigue a gentle veil over languid thought, brief the study of surroundings. Mild the hold winter had about the land, enough quelled a desire he had grown accustomed to heeding, wide the dark pit of opening jaws, a yawn that concluded with a heavy exhale. There was no purpose, nor destination, the simple exertion of motion enough, heavy each tread placed among thick vegetation. For most part ignored the sounds about, grown a dull white noise, the shift of undergrowth and gentle scrap of miniscule claws unheeded, the few voices weakened over distance similar met with little intrigue.

Peaceful seemed all, yet illusion must break, done so with a cry that rose into anguished pitch. Confusion alighted along soft visage, forth rounded ears moving, sought origin point even as it grew distant, that which made the vocalisation not lingering. Begun again his locomotion, about large cranium moving, too slow the lift. Away it fell, abrupt the cut off, though apparent his distaste for such as the final notes of the cry rang through his mind. Marred beneath thin trickle the dark bark, a bright point perched owl as conducted a feast he came to realise the cause of the distressing cry, at times pausing as though in assessment.

"Entschuldigen Sie die Störung." Far the thought understood his words, less from the notion the owl lacked sentience but for the lack of those who came to share his first language, habit grown the quiet utterance as move was made to depart.


Re: roast - open; hunting stranger - Keona. - 01-18-2021

[table][tr][td]
keona sibéal ní faoláin.
the typhoon.
the blind dealer.
information.
[/td][td]
[div style="width: 360px; font-family: palatino; color: #2a4971; text-align: left; padding-top: 15px; padding-left: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px;"]Idir brí is idir muir, Tá mé i dtiúin
Tiny as a mouse herself, the petite dealer kept her ears perked, whenever she lingered where predators hunted.  Kept her ears perked regardless.  Always listening, as small paws moved beneath the lush canopy.  Familiar paths.

She heard quite a bit.  Quite far.  Perhaps farther than most, faerie senses intent on overcompensating for lack of sight.  She caught the same cry as Emil.  Startling her out of a hunt herself.  The tiny bird she had been tracking fluttered away in an alarmed flurry of wingbeats, causing her ears to flatten.  Well.

Keona thinned her lips, finding her path caught up with Emil.  Her nose twitched idly, catching more than the familiar bear.  Avian and rodent and fresh blood.  The dealer hummed softly, uncertain of the meaning of Emil's words but comfortable in their sound.

Something felt more... Sentient here.  A different aura.  Her intuition had yet to fail her... She could go with it.  Hopefully it wouldn't seem foolish of her.  "Aloha."  Her soft voice had to be raised a little.  Keona did not know how tall the tree was.

Her tail twitched.  If the bird responded, they responded.  If they didn't, they didn't.
[/td][/tr][/table]
© MADI



Re: roast - open; hunting stranger - rhosmari - 01-18-2021

Her head twisted almost all the way around as she swallowed pieces of flesh from her latest kill. She made sure to keep tabs on who was coming and who was going from around the tree she had positioned herself in. Eyes slowly follow the big beast that walked along the bottom of the tree. His words making her curious of their origin although not enough to say anything. He watched her just as she watched hum and her head tilted slightly. "Hmm..." These languages are strange to her but she supposed that they were common placed here. Maybe. She had heard a wide variety as she flew across the land but nothing like this. One leg moved, unburdened by the kill and she flexed her claws almost as if waving before clutching the tree again. Though soon her attention was grasped and she twisted her head to the other side.

A small, much smaller, creature came through the foliage and her instincts flared. Could be another meal for her. The thought moving through her skull before the other spoke up. A greeting she could assume but the great owl's face almost seems to scrunch up in mild irritation before wings shifted and the rat was suddenly ly dropped. It hit the ground with an audible thud before the woman finally decided to speak up to them. "You both must live here. Where am I exactly?" A demanding question but with an even tone as she stepped lightly along the branch.



Re: roast - open; hunting stranger - michael t. - 01-19-2021

YOU NEVER GAVE UP ON ME; WHY DON'T YOU?
I'LL NEVER KNOW WHAT YOU SEE; WHY WON'T YOU?
It was a rather well known fact throughout The Typhoon that Michael had a certain fondness for rats. He wasn't sure what attracted him to the tiny vermin, but he enjoyed their company, and kept an entire mischief of them within his home as companions. His family had mostly grown used to this, both his husband and children treating the dealer's rats as if they were family, as well. In spite of this, the thief hadn't simply forgotten that some creatures viewed rats as nothing more than food.

It was a fact he was very much aware of, actually, seeing as he had to seal off most of his home to make sure his rats didn't get out without him – he didn't want to risk them being killed. Requiem was a prime example of the kind of beast that Michael was hiding his little mischief away from, and as he approached where she was perched in the trees, he couldn't help the way that his stomach was twisting. The remains of the rat she held in her claws made him want to recoil, and he actually did so when she dropped it, his body shifting backwards and a harsh little hiss leaving his muzzle. He immediately decided he didn't like Requiem very much.

Despite this, the dealer didn't immediately make his displeasure known, not wanting to be unprofessional. After all, it was part of his job to welcome others into the group, regardless of who or what they were. It was because of this purpose that the bobcat took a deep breath inward, evening himself out before he spoke, sharp mismatched blue gaze on Requiem, "This place is The Typhoon. If you're sentient, you should know that most groups aren't exactly a fan of outsiders just freely hunting on their lands." Especially when you waste that food, Michael's mind supplied. He just shook his head before continuing, "Are you interested in joining, or are you going to stop stealing our food?" Perhaps that was a little harsher than his usual greeting, but he couldn't help it. He had already been on edge lately thanks to all of the Coalition and Iron Forged nonsense, and Requiem's sharp attitude certainly wasn't helping. If she decided that she wasn't interested in respecting the boundaries of others, then he could very well decide that he was going to help her become interested.
Reggan



Re: roast - open; hunting stranger - rhosmari - 01-19-2021

With an even countenance she turned to look toward where the next creature had arrived. Noticed the way he reacted when the body of the rat thudded against the ground. A mere tattered remains of flesh and bones, hardly anything to really care about. She tilted her head slightly as she watched him and she lifted a wing to begin preening through her feathers. There could be perceived a lack of care in the way that she moved herself, taking her eyes off of him to clean between her flight feathers and make sure everything looked nice and presentable. She could tell that she had no real care for this place, it was just a means to an end. Some would say survival but she had lived on her own long enough to know better. They were just in her way as much as anything else. Slowly she stopped pushing through her feathers to turn and finally look at him as he began to speak and she uttered a light hissing noise, a clicking of her beak as she shifted along the branch to look down at him. Sharp bronze red eyes narrowed slightly at his ending tone and she shrugged her shoulders, such an odd gesture for a master of the skies. ''So it just matters if I can hold a conversation with you that I'm suddenly an outsider hunting on your lands. How trivial.'' What if there was a small blue jay that could talk but choose to just live without that, never once caring to open his mouth?

Guess it didn't matter till they heard it speak and then it became a problem. It was a bit of humorous logic to her but she supposed that they had to keep up their pretenses of ownership. Her gaze slowly looked away and lifting up a leg she scratched lightly underneath her chin, metal glinting in the sunlight. ''If it bothers you that much you can have the scrapes. Don't kitties like you enjoy the taste of vermin?'' She was genuinely curious as she had seen many a cat chase after rodents and anything that moved really. Birds as well but they knew better than to fight with larger birds of prey. She even ate other birds at times, but she found them to be lacking in flavor and getting through the feathers was more hassle than she actually wanted. ''I'm actually getting less and less interested in talking.''



Re: roast - open; hunting stranger - Grimm - 01-20-2021

[div style="margin: auto; max-width: 475px; padding: 5%; min-height: 20px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; line-height: 17px;"]Minimal that to act as announcement, gentle the graze, foliage undisturbed even as wake permits their fall into stationary placement, akin to that below, as diminutive as they. Brief the initial shock, discarded beneath her gentle call, that grown familiar though meagre their time of close proximity. Possibly it was for differing was she, among them apart for reasons he could not parse without prolonged ponderance, simple comfort the manner she spoke, words differing from the dialect that graced many. Downward vision wandered, looked to the dealer, renewed a once thought fully quelled sense of dread.

Slow the few steps, unnecessary his shift, yet differing his thoughts and thus heeded, halt casting the dark pool of his shadow across her, that little the broken  light allowed, at least. Apparent the avian had no qualms with taking as was pleased, the captured rodent evidence enough. Smaller still Keona, a trivial morsel easily taken and enjoyed if the desire struck, thus limited the chance. No further comment may bypass his lips for the moment, perused as she regarded the intrusive owl, a greeting common filling the air for a moment.

False proven his assumption, expected departure not enacted, rather a noise arose from crimson lined beak, the study in turn conducted too deep for one lacking the restriction of instincts. Almost bare felt he, the piercing vision like to flay from him all in a bid to learn, yet smooth and open the rise, curiosity the adornment upon suspended talons. Thoughts turned towards the possibility of this owl being something more when voice painted the still air, a query posed in sharp tone, a demand for information. Confusion alighted along his visage, great skull shifting, a slight tilt to one side.

No base predator this, the manner she spoke and the vernacular applied, enough to disqualified thoughts that she was a bird that may mimick another. Known these words she spoke, the request for knowledge one no such creature may harbour. The fact she lacked a name to either the people or land a perplexing oddity, even those most secluded bearing some trivial facts for wide the spread of the political mess that ruled each community. Thoughts spiralled, broke away with her rejection of abandoned meal. "No waste. Bad." Slow the deep rumble he voiced his comment within, regarded for a moment the resting place of the discarded rodent.

Another conducted their own arrival, about rounded ears swivelling, after vision following. Known this one as well, though no need of assistance pulled Emil from his place by Keona, well enough may the second dealer handle himself. And he did such, answered the query posed in manner Emil may not have, grateful the hushed rumble he voiced. Noted how his voice sharpened, cause an unknown though he would not begrudge him such, as was pointed out the rat once feasted upon was stolen.

Impromptu preening broke away with a response that elicited his own, chest reverberating with the growl that rooted within its depths, back lips peeling as stance widened. Her words bore little meaning, nothing to the bear, only set upon ensuring confrontation would not occur or was shortened, easy the task of dispatching the owl should it come to it. "Bird better." Reprimand likely to arise from his blatant threat, though earned it was continued the rather distasteful conversation, comment made with supposed intent to further aggravate.