03-16-2018, 09:39 AM
[font=trebuchet ms]Just prior to leaving the deserts, Paper had discovered that leadership was not all it was cracked up to be, at least not for one barely out of basic training. His difficulties didn’t stem from being a poor leader, he thought, so much as the fact that leadership skills took time to develop, and most of the other members of the pack were… not easily controlled, to say the least. That inherent rowdiness made them aggressive combatants, which was without a doubt an advantage, but it was also something he had yet to learn how to handle when dealing with inferiors. He’d pick it up someday, he was certain. For now, however, he was going to have to concern himself with working his way back up to the top. That was fine; there was little he wasn’t willing to do to achieve his goal, and the others here could only hope that they didn’t find that out the hard way, he thought.
After a few moments of waiting, the jackal tilted his head slightly to the right, then padded about in a small circle once. The revolution granted him no further sensory information (at least, not other than what he assumed the typical sounds and smells of the rainforest), but it was when he returned to his original position that he detected it: there were footsteps growing steadily louder, and the scent of another creature growing stronger and stronger. Someone was approaching. The brief ritual had not been necessary after all (given the direction that the other creature was approaching from), but it wasn’t as though anyone noticed him doing it. Even if they did, they wouldn't understand his reasons for doing so, so it would hardly matter in the long run.
Looking up, the jackal fixed his eyes on the bengal as he emerged from the shadows. The other male’s claws were already unsheathed- excellent. The killer instinct of the island’s denizens was on full display. The noticeable odor of sea salt was less familiar, but it was little different from the smell of blood; living here would be like surrounding himself with dead and dying animals all day. The stench of iron was an integral fact of life as the strongest around, anyway, and that was fine by him.
Perfectly fine, he insisted to himself, shoving aside the brief thought of his own blood spilling from the gash on his face.
At the bengal’s question, Papercutter shook his head. The fact that his loyalty alone would not be sufficient nearly incited a surge of indignant bemusement, but then he supposed that given the distance between the deserts of his old home and the tropics out here, none of the Typhoon's members would have heard anything about him. They would not understand the value that he and his quest would provide to them. That was fine, too; they would learn in due time.
The jackal opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, he was interrupted by the approach of another creature. Turning his gaze towards the other bengal, he quirked his left brow. If he had to guess, given their appearances, the two were related, but each one's demeanor was entirely different from the other. Interesting.
Regardless, this one seemed... softer in nature, even disregarding his clouded eyes. His mother had always insisted that a soft outside could easily mask a cunning inside, and that it was never smart to underestimate an enemy; he supposed he understood that, but he never quite got why anyone would hide their own strength. Making one's own power obvious to everyone in the vicinity was prideful, perhaps, but it was the simplest way to ensure that no one would mess with you. It took much less work than deliberately inviting attackers by appearing weak.
He still ought to be careful, though, and the shorter bengal was attempting to help his case. There was no point in wasting good favor, at least not for the moment. "Thanks," Paper responded finally, with a nod. He was hardly exhausted (a tad cold, maybe, but that was to be expected given the change in biome), but denying their hospitality was, again, pointless.
As the snake slithered up alongside him, the jackal fixed his narrowed gaze on it. He couldn't be sure what species it was- it didn't resemble a rattlesnake, that was all he could discern- but presumably, as long as he didn't make any threatening motions towards it, it would remain docile. "'She?' What's her name?" he asked softly, twitching his left ear. With a brief glance up at the other two, he added, "And what're your names?"
/aaaah thanks! ^^
After a few moments of waiting, the jackal tilted his head slightly to the right, then padded about in a small circle once. The revolution granted him no further sensory information (at least, not other than what he assumed the typical sounds and smells of the rainforest), but it was when he returned to his original position that he detected it: there were footsteps growing steadily louder, and the scent of another creature growing stronger and stronger. Someone was approaching. The brief ritual had not been necessary after all (given the direction that the other creature was approaching from), but it wasn’t as though anyone noticed him doing it. Even if they did, they wouldn't understand his reasons for doing so, so it would hardly matter in the long run.
Looking up, the jackal fixed his eyes on the bengal as he emerged from the shadows. The other male’s claws were already unsheathed- excellent. The killer instinct of the island’s denizens was on full display. The noticeable odor of sea salt was less familiar, but it was little different from the smell of blood; living here would be like surrounding himself with dead and dying animals all day. The stench of iron was an integral fact of life as the strongest around, anyway, and that was fine by him.
Perfectly fine, he insisted to himself, shoving aside the brief thought of his own blood spilling from the gash on his face.
At the bengal’s question, Papercutter shook his head. The fact that his loyalty alone would not be sufficient nearly incited a surge of indignant bemusement, but then he supposed that given the distance between the deserts of his old home and the tropics out here, none of the Typhoon's members would have heard anything about him. They would not understand the value that he and his quest would provide to them. That was fine, too; they would learn in due time.
The jackal opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, he was interrupted by the approach of another creature. Turning his gaze towards the other bengal, he quirked his left brow. If he had to guess, given their appearances, the two were related, but each one's demeanor was entirely different from the other. Interesting.
Regardless, this one seemed... softer in nature, even disregarding his clouded eyes. His mother had always insisted that a soft outside could easily mask a cunning inside, and that it was never smart to underestimate an enemy; he supposed he understood that, but he never quite got why anyone would hide their own strength. Making one's own power obvious to everyone in the vicinity was prideful, perhaps, but it was the simplest way to ensure that no one would mess with you. It took much less work than deliberately inviting attackers by appearing weak.
He still ought to be careful, though, and the shorter bengal was attempting to help his case. There was no point in wasting good favor, at least not for the moment. "Thanks," Paper responded finally, with a nod. He was hardly exhausted (a tad cold, maybe, but that was to be expected given the change in biome), but denying their hospitality was, again, pointless.
As the snake slithered up alongside him, the jackal fixed his narrowed gaze on it. He couldn't be sure what species it was- it didn't resemble a rattlesnake, that was all he could discern- but presumably, as long as he didn't make any threatening motions towards it, it would remain docile. "'She?' What's her name?" he asked softly, twitching his left ear. With a brief glance up at the other two, he added, "And what're your names?"
/aaaah thanks! ^^
[font=trebuchet ms]some weirdo