03-18-2018, 08:08 PM
Indeed, the winds of destiny could change in the blink of an eye.
Growing up in a wasteland of dust and detritus, where even the landscape shifted from day to day, the jackal had quickly learned not to trust in the status quo. An oasis that was there one day could be barren the next, the water sucked up by thirsty creatures and the prey slaughtered and swallowed down by hunters. A pack leader that stood strong one night could die of dehydration, and their corpse swarmed by flies, by morning light. An enemy pack defeated one day could return and leave them all for dead the next.
To some degree, he had grown to embrace change. The gods and devils alike knew that his current position was undesirable. He was powerful, to be sure, but he was not at the top of the food chain yet- and in some ways, that was more dangerous than simply lingering at the bottom. If you slunk low enough, remained stick-thin and lacking in muscle, most creatures wouldn't waste their time on you. In the middle links of the food web, however, you were strong enough to catch attention from the apex predators, and that was where you found yourself in trouble. Once he reached the top, however, and secured his place there, that was when he could trust in the status quo.
For now, metamorphosis was his motivation, method, and end goal, all at once.
Papercutter had not actually heard the bird's call at first, due to his position on the beach, scrutinizing the volcano that loomed overhead. However, when the jackal glanced aside for a moment to check the sun's place in the sky, he noticed Daphne heading quickly towards the land bridge that he had entered on, and padded off in that direction. He couldn't be sure what had surprised the bengal, but if he had to guess, it was another straggler hoping to join their ranks.
A few yards away, he caught sight of a tiny bird talking to Daphne, and stifled a scoff. The newcomer was clearly lost; no one this small and flimsy would knowingly and willingly approach the borders of the Typhoon unless they a) were willing to bet that Daphne would be the one to find them, as opposed to Pincer, b) actually had enormous amounts of power beneath their exterior (which, while possible here, seemed unlikely), or c) had a death wish. Expressing such a thought now, when he hadn't yet proved his skill to the Typhoon's members, would certainly get him scorning looks, but it was true.
When he drew close enough to hear her name, though, Papercutter blinked. Had he heard that wrong? It wasn't outside the realm of plausibility, though technically, neither was the option of both the bengal and the bird having the same name. (In the latter case, he was almost certainly going to have to come up with nicknames or some other way of differentiating the two of them, which was easier said than done.) Twitching his left ear, the jackal mused for a moment, then answered curtly, "This is the Typhoon." He certainly wasn't going to ask for her name again, nor was he going to risk looking foolish by trying to repeat it himself, only to potentially be wrong. Eyeing the bird more closely, he continued, "We're the most powerful fighting force in the region. Not sure if that's what you're looking for."
Growing up in a wasteland of dust and detritus, where even the landscape shifted from day to day, the jackal had quickly learned not to trust in the status quo. An oasis that was there one day could be barren the next, the water sucked up by thirsty creatures and the prey slaughtered and swallowed down by hunters. A pack leader that stood strong one night could die of dehydration, and their corpse swarmed by flies, by morning light. An enemy pack defeated one day could return and leave them all for dead the next.
To some degree, he had grown to embrace change. The gods and devils alike knew that his current position was undesirable. He was powerful, to be sure, but he was not at the top of the food chain yet- and in some ways, that was more dangerous than simply lingering at the bottom. If you slunk low enough, remained stick-thin and lacking in muscle, most creatures wouldn't waste their time on you. In the middle links of the food web, however, you were strong enough to catch attention from the apex predators, and that was where you found yourself in trouble. Once he reached the top, however, and secured his place there, that was when he could trust in the status quo.
For now, metamorphosis was his motivation, method, and end goal, all at once.
Papercutter had not actually heard the bird's call at first, due to his position on the beach, scrutinizing the volcano that loomed overhead. However, when the jackal glanced aside for a moment to check the sun's place in the sky, he noticed Daphne heading quickly towards the land bridge that he had entered on, and padded off in that direction. He couldn't be sure what had surprised the bengal, but if he had to guess, it was another straggler hoping to join their ranks.
A few yards away, he caught sight of a tiny bird talking to Daphne, and stifled a scoff. The newcomer was clearly lost; no one this small and flimsy would knowingly and willingly approach the borders of the Typhoon unless they a) were willing to bet that Daphne would be the one to find them, as opposed to Pincer, b) actually had enormous amounts of power beneath their exterior (which, while possible here, seemed unlikely), or c) had a death wish. Expressing such a thought now, when he hadn't yet proved his skill to the Typhoon's members, would certainly get him scorning looks, but it was true.
When he drew close enough to hear her name, though, Papercutter blinked. Had he heard that wrong? It wasn't outside the realm of plausibility, though technically, neither was the option of both the bengal and the bird having the same name. (In the latter case, he was almost certainly going to have to come up with nicknames or some other way of differentiating the two of them, which was easier said than done.) Twitching his left ear, the jackal mused for a moment, then answered curtly, "This is the Typhoon." He certainly wasn't going to ask for her name again, nor was he going to risk looking foolish by trying to repeat it himself, only to potentially be wrong. Eyeing the bird more closely, he continued, "We're the most powerful fighting force in the region. Not sure if that's what you're looking for."
[font=trebuchet ms]some weirdo