|
Post by Anthony William Scott on Dec 30, 2012 16:12:32 GMT -5
"Come on boys," said Anthony to the three bloodhounds busily stuffing their noses in the leaves and soil on the forest floor. He'd managed to escape the citadel on the promise that he was tracking and would bring in a human if he managed to find one on his way. Of course, there was a second and simpler reason that he was out, tracking and hunting. He was trying to avoid the world that had been built up to insulate humanity and its derivatives from the realities of the real world. Even vampires, the most aggressive human-like animals, seemed to want to insulate themselves from their animal nature and the simple reality that they, like the humans they turned from, were a predatory species.
Unlike many others, he'd never been unaware of that fact. Growing up the son of a trapper, he had been taken out away from the home fires with his siblings. He'd spent more of his childhood on a trapline than he had with the gentler influences. Following his brother leaving the lines to go work as a lumber jack felling trees for WWI planes, he'd been taken out at six years old, a weathered copy of Leaves of Grass hidden under his coat. He still had the same book stored in his quarters with the few things that he kept as mementos from his life before the takeover. There weren't many. Some pictures of his kids and his family, nothing much else. The rest that he had from that life was the collection of pelts and hides from all of the animals that he had hunted over the years.
Stalking through the woods with his dogs at his heels, he reflected on the simplicity of the world around him. Out here, it was hunt or be hunted. It was a simple relationship between predator and prey, the food chain in its simplest stages. Although this dietary relationship was mirrored in society, with the Monarch on the top of the heap and all of the little ants scurrying below him, it didn't have the same wildness as the world that it emulated. The civilized world was a poor emulation of the real one and there was nothing that could be done about it.
He pushed through the trees, looking for something to attract his focus. There was nothing happening on interest. Squirrels skittered through the trees, song birds chirped, and what ever was below him kept moving on. There was little for him to do. With the world as still as it could ever be, he changed his course and headed for his hunting blind, adjusting the rifle strap on his shoulder to a more comfortable position. He walked on until the wooden blind he had built as a refuge came in sight. To the naked eye, it was identifiable as a human built, but he kept one side covered with pine boughs as a way to hide from the unsuspecting deer at the salt lick that he had established when he first built the blind. It wasn't "sporting" by the modern sportsmans terms, but it was how he had learned to hunt them for survival.
Comfortably within the three walls of the blind, he removed the clip from the gun before leaning it in the corner and pulling off his pack. He opened it and pulled out a block of cheese, a half loaf of bread, a hunk of last night's roast, and an apple. The dogs settled around his feet, laying down as they waited for action and treats. He tossed them each a chunk of meat before biting into his apple. This, this was the life.
----
note: augh, starters, boo. words: 610
|
|
|
Post by wilhelmjamesamsel on Jan 1, 2013 2:32:49 GMT -5
Ah, the wind, it was such a nice thing to wake up to. The way it brushed upon the skin, bringing the scent of the world around it, stirring one from a sound slumber with it’s gentle caress. This particular day was no different for Wilhelm than any before it except for a new location. He didn’t usually venture as far out from the city as the forest, but with all he’d been risking lately he felt it necessary to distance himself just a little. Not from Ryley, god no, he was so smitten with that fledgling vampire that he could only think of him. It was from the general fear of being caught that caused him to flee, for now, from the stable he’d been staying within for days past.
His dreams had been pleasant, those filled with thoughts of Ryley and the night they’d spent together, the intimate moments they’d shared. The gentle breeze stirred him, but it was these thoughts that brought his mind to reality. The pain of the tree branches that cradled him aching over his back as he pulled himself to sit up. A heavy breath passing his lips in a way that would identify the pain that he felt from laying upon such a stiff surface. It made him miss those beds of hay that Ryley had provided him with already. He was not the man’s pet, nor any others, but he did have a particular bond with that vampire he adored. He wasn’t like most vampires he ever imagined and from what Ryley had told him about vampires he hoped that it would never change. Part of him worried that Ryley would change from the sweet man he was into one of those monsters when that time for change came to be.
It was the sound of a voice nearby that drew Wilhelm’s attention, he could not pinpoint it’s direction, but he had definitely heard it. He drew his feet onto the branch with him, pushing himself to stand upon it, his long hair flowing in it’s bound ponytail behind him. Wilhelm’s pale eyes searched through the leaves, through the trees, and to the earth below hoping to find the source of the sound before it did him. He crouched in the tree, holding one hand to the branch near his head, the other on the branch beneath his feet. Hunt or be hunted, his instincts for survival were sparked, he would flee if it was needed. However, what if it was Ryley? What if the other man had come looking for where he’d gone? He couldn’t run away yet, not without a visual confirmation, he would never run from Ryley.
It was then, that he spotted a figure, traveling through as if it were a human hunting for a deer to kill. He did not seem to be on a mission, outside of this, but Wilhelm continued to observe from above the best he could from that distance. His stomach growled slightly as he caught sight of the food. Food that looked quite delicious, he’d not eaten for days it seemed, it was starting to get the better of his judgment. However, he couldn’t just walk up to the man and ask him for it, no that was dangerous. A danger he could not risk. So he devised a plan, first, he would have to distract the dogs. Perhaps the man would follow them away from the site in turn. If not, he was certain he could outrun him, or at least he hoped. He had little idea of what the man truly was. He quietly broke off a branch, of the tree, tossing it off a good distance away in the opposing direction.
But would it be distracting enough?
Words: 629 Muse: Derp
|
|
|
Post by Anthony William Scott on Jan 1, 2013 14:35:09 GMT -5
Busy munching on his apple and enjoying the peace of the forest, Anthony let his guard slip for a moment. That is, until one of the dogs huffed and looked off in the distance, ears rolled forward. Sure, they weren't the best dogs for hearing things with those gargantuan floppy ears, but the bloodhounds could still hear things he couldn't on a normal day. Perhaps he should have them go check it. After all, if it was a human or a deer, they'd sound off and start the pursuit. If it wasn't, they'd come back and resume their lazy napping around his feet, it was the blessing of a well trained dog.
"Check it out, boys," he said, motioning the three hounds out of the blind. They got up, shook, and trotted out of the blind and into the wild, looking for what ever it was that had gotten their attention. Anthony wasn't sure what he would do without them. They were a key part of his tracking operations and could follow a cold trail for two days if they needed, noses to the ground. Even if he could find where someone was, sometimes they were gone by the time he was done meditating with his affinity and getting the rest of the trackers together. And so, once they found the location, sometimes they would be gone and the dogs would be the next step. And there was nothing that those dogs loved more than a good hunt, noses to the ground and tails in the air.
Despite their obvious love of the hunt, sometimes he wished he had a brace of sighthounds for once the bloodhounds had found the prey, sometimes they were too exhausted to give good chase at that point after tracking for hours on end. Yes, a brace of chart polskis would do the trick. Bred to hunt wolves, a pair could easily ground a human and keep them there. Perhaps an Irish wolfhound. Any of them would do, he just needed something with the speed to take down a human trying to sprint away from the scene of hiding and the strength and bone density to hold it down until Anthony got to the scene. As much as he loved the bloodhounds, they weren't the greatest dogs for bringing a prey down. Normally the hunt ended with him shooting the runner with a tranquilizer and tying them up so running was impossible before trying a little field interrogation.
Dogs on the loose, Anthony sat a little more at attention, looking for a tell-tale shake in the trees, anything to give a large human or ungulate away. There were more things out in the woods than most people could handle, the sorts of things that most people would work to avoid, the things that a lot of people called nightmares. Skinned and gutted however, every nightmare looked the same. Cougars and bears and deer all had a stomach and heart, skin and eyes, feet and teeth. They were all animals and honestly, what wasn't even vampires, the apex predator in this ecosystem, had all of those parts, albeit they looked a little bit different. They were all animals, all predator, prey, or both.
Eyes on the world around him, he kept eating his apple, the crisp flesh crunching loudly between his molars. It wasn't necessarily the best food to eat while hunting, as the sound could obscure the world outside the chewing but damn it was good. He remembered the first time he'd bitten into a fresh apple, the pop of the flesh and the juices filling his mouth. It was quite the departure from the mealy ones that served as food in his family, bought from the local grocer and eaten through the winter, kept cold in the root cellar dug into the permafrost. There was an amazing difference between the two. He was a fan of the fresh ones, having eaten the mealy for too many years as a human child. It had been in Anchorage, looking for his sister, when he first stumbled across fresh apples. He'd been 19 then and had avoided the mealy mouth feel of the ones he lived with for so long at that time since.
----
note: i think Anthony is going to end up like a crazy cat lady, but with dogs =/ words: 704
a
|
|
|
Post by wilhelmjamesamsel on Jan 7, 2013 12:43:33 GMT -5
A sound passed his lips, very quietly of course, it was more like a breathy sigh. No matter, it had left his lips the moment those animals drew interest in the distraction that he had caused. Or rather the stick that he had thrown. He wondered somewhat about those animals and why they had not been eaten yet. His body ached slightly, but it was a dull ache and a welcome memory. He wondered to himself if this would be some sort of huge mistake, if he would lose ability to regain the company of his beloved, or if he would perish over a simple hunger. However, the hunger was as it was in fact. Which was quite hungry. The small growl in his stomach urged him forward. The moment those dogs had taken their leave he slid down from his place of hiding. Moving quietly toward the blind, his dark clothing seemed to help a bit, but perhaps not enough. However, that was neither here nor there. Dogs were dogs, they could be fooled, and lead a stray. Though they were much more honest than humans or vampires he imagined. He’d outwitted animals more times than he cared to count, however, a hound was another matter on it’s own. A hound could follow a trail until it died itself. That was a frightening thought, but it would be dealt with at the right moment. He was careful not to shake a branch, not to crunch a twig, or crumble a leaf. The task was difficult and seemed almost nearly impossible, but it had to be done. It had been something he’d learned to manage in his years of evading capture, however, a lot had changed since he met that vampire Ryley. He found himself more recklass, more questioning of the nature of everything, especially vampires and animals alike. Though it seemed as though there wasn’t much alarm , that was good, right? That meant the other man did not see or hear or suspect that there was someone stalking closer. The sound of that pop of flesh from the apple triggered both his hunger and his sudden movement. There was no more time to waste, it had to be now, he charged into that blind. Immediately toward the weapon he’d spotted. Tackling more or less, turning sharply to point the barrel at the man with the apple. His eyes arrowed slightly as he breathed out in a shaken, nervous, breath. He didn’t know if the man was human or vampire, but he the pangs of hunger in his stomach were strong and overriding his common sense. Wilhelm’s long hair flowed in the air as he ran, but bounced back into place after he’d come to a complete stop. Taking a runner’s stand as he stood in front of the man. “Give over the food and noone gets hurt ! “ he declared at the man. What was he thinking? What he was doing could easily get him killed. Holding a gun at a stranger. Not knowing whether he was human or vampire or whether he was azure or crimson or whatever it was that Ryley had mentioned in a textbook fashion before. His pale eyes narrowed their gaze as he stared toward the man. Trembling where he stood. Whether it was from fear or not was left to be said. Notes: Wilhelm likes dogs, but not ones that want to bite him Words: 561
|
|
|
Post by Anthony William Scott on Jan 11, 2013 21:53:12 GMT -5
The forest was an interesting place, it was a separate reality from the city. There were different rules here. There were no predators constraining their instincts. They hunted, they ate, and they were sated. There had been a heady and wild era in which that was possible within the world that he lived in now. But alas, that was no longer the case. Between unchained feeding of vamps and the war, humans were now an endangered species and like many societies before it, the one that he now was a part of had outlawed the out and out draining of a human. Instead, these delicate little creatures of the sun were to be treated like a fine wine, tasted and appreciated, but never sullied with the bad behavior of being drunk all at once in a drunken frenzy. No, this was a strangely more civilized age for the vampires and for the humans who had suddenly been ripped from ruling the world and subjugated to a life as the chattel of another species.
His reflection on the nature of the world was broken by the sudden intrusion of a human into his field of vision and further interrupted by the fact that his own gun was being pointed at him. Good thing he had unloaded it when he sat down to lunch. This, however, was a rather interesting pickle that he found himself in. He stared down the barrel and considered his options. This little human probably was no threat to him. This little human was pointing an unloaded gun at him. This little human was clearly starving and wouldn’t make a good snack, even if he were still allowed to hunt them in the wild and enjoy a nip or two at one every now and then.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he lifted the bread and cheese from his lap, holding them towards his attacker, “put down the gun and you can have these.” He looked the human in the eye, trying to wrest the control of the situation from the boy. But there was also no point to not let the child have the food. That was cruelty of the highest order. There were no good reasons for starving someone, especially not when they were clearly that desperate for the food that he had more than enough of back at home. There was nothing to be done to salvage the situation.
The dogs returned from their adventure. The oldest of the three started growling lowly while the other two started stalking outside the blind, waiting for the word to capture this human. They weren’t truly addgressive by nature but they had the sense, like any animal, to know when their alpha was in trouble. This knowledge, as it would have with their wolf ancestors, set the bloodhounds on edge, waiting while a struggle for dominance took place in front of them. They stared at the human, looking as threatening as they could.
----
note: they only bite when they are told to words: 492
|
|