Post by eclipse on Jul 24, 2009 16:24:30 GMT -5
Well, I didn't really know where to put this, so I'll just put it in the general board. I'm always a little vague on where Xercese has been and what he has experienced in his absence. I figured that it would make a good story. So every while I'll update this post with a little more of the story If this is in the wrong place, please do move it. Don't hesitate to follow along! Comments are welcome and such like that
Currently At: Word Count: 2042
Chapter 1. The Fleeing
The outer boundaries of the pack lands never had been all that firm... Xercese only had his pups, Hayashi, Micara and Royce to his name in the pack. While they were a strong family, Hayashi spent her time with the pups and Micara and Royce were not able to scent mark and find food in the meager lands easily.
A soft wind blew across the brute's ruff and the alpha stopped to stare up at the sky: Dark clouds splattered like paint across the lukewarm-milk sky. The hairs at the base of Xercese's tail stood up uneasily, and the wolf found himself unconsciously flattening his ears and edging towards cover. Right now, the river and vast hunting field was between him and his beloved waterfall home. The closest, not to mention safest, place right now would be the forest.
It wouldn't matter anyways... he could work his way around the quarter circle of trees scent marking when the storm was done and then head back. Easy and efficient. His legs carried him past the low-hanging boughs of resident pine trees to a heap of boulders. The sight was familiar to him: Mirage once stood beneath him... talking to him... enchanting him. He gingerly sniffed the dusty earth, not sure if the scent he was looking for would still be there. Of course, it had faded considerably... but he pulled back surprised that it was indeed still there. Not only that, but it was mingled along with a much stronger and more offensive scent: slavers.
It was almost too predictable. Alpha out on his own, runs into slavers without his pack, gets captured and finds his whole pack in shackles... It would be so classic. So unoriginal. So obvious it would happen. Yet... yet when Xercese found the scent he did one thing that saved that from happening. He jerked back at first, assessing the situation: the ground had been marked there, and the scent was still reeking fresh. That meant they were still there. He glanced around him, up at the rolling clouds that were bleeding rain and the back at the stinking patch of earth. After some deliberation, he dropped down and rolled in the strange scent. The ground was now almost mud, and his whole body was coated in grime, pine needles and the 'slaver smell'. He shook himself and rose to head deeper into the forest. The rain was slowly washing every scent near him away, but he at least had some cover in case he came out upwind of them. As long as he could manage to catch them unaware and lead them away from the pack, it would work out fine.
Xercese felt thunder rumble through his paws and he slowed to a stop under a nearby tree, taking a break from the spite of the storm. The ground and skeletons of trees flashed brilliant white and, from nearby bushes that were so very familiar to him, he saw a flash of lit eyes staring at him. The second of lightning faded and with darkness, the brute was alone again. The fact that they knew he was trailing them now made it slightly more difficult. If they had enough wit and cunning to have one or all of them backtrack then... well, you know how much trouble it would be.
-CRACKSHHHtchk-
A branch tumbled down with a crash behind Xercese, and he spun around with a start. The rain was almost blinding, and his senses were washing away with the mud. It was darker and his cool calm was slowly slipping. It is harder to judge your enemy when they are uncountable, unable to be seen and impossible to see. What made him really unnerved, though, was that Hayashi had the pups and this danger could be real and deadly to her. Nothing unnerved him more than the invisible danger that he could do nothing about. Another branch fell behind him... Or was it a twig snapping under paw? behind the thunder, it all sounded the same. Xercese mulled over all possible ideas in his mind in under a second, waiting tensely for another 'branch'. It came, much closer, along with a distinct snarl.
In that instant he made up his mind, and plunged further from their home and towards the neighboring pack lands.
---
Even after the rain let up, he knew they were still following. He could hear them now, judge their numbers... about 6 or 7 of them. More were probably heading back to the pack, but the bulk of them were trying to get the prize jewel. The lead male. The alpha. A diamond worth a little effort. They weren't running at him all at once, either... mostly, they took turns running him and spent the rest of their energy tracking, hunting or resting. Then they would run to swap out with the runner. They were slowly running him down to shreds, like hounds at a rabbit. Xercese didn't care... if most of them were distracted, Micara, Hayashi and Royce could fight the rest off. He was confident they could... It didn't matter what happened to him as long as they could raise the pups. He would survive... he always did.
A bush crumpled flat behind him and a growl of satisfied cold rage sliced his thoughts. It distinctly reminded him of how much his legs were burning and how his chest felt like a knife was slowly being twisted around. Coughing hoarsely, he sped up his pace and turned to look at his pursuer.
Figures.
Just like it always happens... a trip over a stick that just happened to be there. A step in a trap that's positioned just right. A thwack in the face from an overhanging branch that knocks him out.
His legs buckled and he felt his left foreleg twisted and trapped in the rusted old humantrap sitting in plain sight. The metal cut into his leg, and through bubbles of pain he heard satisfied laughter blurring into a howl of triumph. He knew the pain was harsh, and the blood was sticky and warm... Xercese could feel teeth sinking into his nape and chains sliding over his neck... The faint howls of other beasts soon coming were almost too quiet to hear past the black curtains... and he could only barely see the other pairs of legs before the black, cold fuzz encased him.
Chapter 2. The Captivity
-a fuzzy forest, dirty brown paws blurred into grass and dirt... darkness again-
Xercese coughed and twitched his left paw. It stung like an adder bit it. His side rose and fell hesitantly a couple of times, and voices faded in and out... He couldn't distinguish words even if he wanted to.
-the forest is sharper... not pine trees, though... the paws are going away... the light is too much... darkness again.-
The wolf twitched his ears, trying to gain his bearings, and listened to the words... "No, we didn't manage to get..." the voice faded and came again, gruff and sharp. "... bloody brute distracted..." Xercese opened his eyes, trying to concentrate on the words. "... half the pack was chasing him while the rest of the pack killed off Udeko, Liou and Sting... couldn't get them. They were gone by th... Oh! he's up now." The voice turned out to be coming from Mr. Brown paws. Xerc grunted and silently bared his fangs, meeting the yellow-eyed gaze.
"We need Zues to help us with the rest of them. He's always been a good hunter. As for this'un, how 'bout you guys drag him over with the rest of them? He can't be sold until the leg heals anyways." Brown Paws didn't even finish before 2 sets of teeth latched onto his scruff and his hind leg... he could feel the dirt and grime rubbing into his undercoat as he was dragged. A moan was greeted with contempt and a harder bite from his captors, so for the most part he was silent in his suffering.
One thing he knew: that was that his pack and lands were safe. He could get out of this some how. That was a guaranteed thing... but only if he knew he had a pack to go back to.
The thoughts going through his head flickered to darkness and he found himself galloping through days, or was it weeks?, at a time. He had the faintest wisps of memory where he remembered chewing and swallowing something, or drinking from puddle or some thing like that, but most of his thoughts were nightmares that stretched on and passed too quickly to recall all at once.
"Infection... you d*mn hunters.... infected his leg... might not live... still can't find... she's still hiding, the cursed alphess..."
It was surreal for him. Each time he woke up, he knew that the trap was off of his leg, and yet he could feel the fire still burning his flesh there. He would close his eyes and wake up again later feeling worse, or better or horrid... like one roller coaster ride from hell.
---
The morning his mind returned and the infection started to fade was bleary and fog-coated. It wasn't really all that different from the morning that he left, and the air told him he couldn't be more than a day away from his pack lands... He lifted his head and pushed his lower half to get up, grunting annoyance when his left paw would not cooperate with his right and he slid back in a pile of leaves, grime and chains. He could see from his position on the soft ground that there were other pathetic beasts like him chained likewise to the trees. Most of them were broken and bruised, and several were just sitting there cowering. The guards that gathered around like little wildflower clumps were big and scruffy, covered in mats and scars. He could see a couple of them that looked like messengers from a pack land he once visited.
One of them turned to look at him and smile demurely, almost alluringly, his tongue lolling. Damien... that was his name... Xercese knew him well. Slippery, yes, but the beast shared the pack meal on more than one occasion.
A nip on Damien's hindquarters turned him back to the group of chatting guards and, though he could not hear the words, Xercese could tell the tone of voice the others were using was contemptuous and derogatory. The captive alpha turned his head to mull over a slightly unnerving thought that scene made him think of...
Neutral is never a safe place to be.
Brown Paws was standing nearby, scowling at a pair of scouts, and the sharp bark to attention he gave caught even Xercese's attention. "Look, just leave enough of us here to handle them. We'll take the rest of these scum to the Stones for sorting before we bring them to the Rock..." Official, then... they were getting dragged off to the informal meeting place of the southern packs where they could kill off and sort through weak, strong and female wolves before the Rock.
Xercese flattened his ears to dull out the rest of the words, his mind only on that first sentence... Enough to handle them. The whole pack would have to be here to 'handle' them if everybody in his group pitched in.
Currently At: Word Count: 2042
Chapter 1. The Fleeing
The outer boundaries of the pack lands never had been all that firm... Xercese only had his pups, Hayashi, Micara and Royce to his name in the pack. While they were a strong family, Hayashi spent her time with the pups and Micara and Royce were not able to scent mark and find food in the meager lands easily.
A soft wind blew across the brute's ruff and the alpha stopped to stare up at the sky: Dark clouds splattered like paint across the lukewarm-milk sky. The hairs at the base of Xercese's tail stood up uneasily, and the wolf found himself unconsciously flattening his ears and edging towards cover. Right now, the river and vast hunting field was between him and his beloved waterfall home. The closest, not to mention safest, place right now would be the forest.
It wouldn't matter anyways... he could work his way around the quarter circle of trees scent marking when the storm was done and then head back. Easy and efficient. His legs carried him past the low-hanging boughs of resident pine trees to a heap of boulders. The sight was familiar to him: Mirage once stood beneath him... talking to him... enchanting him. He gingerly sniffed the dusty earth, not sure if the scent he was looking for would still be there. Of course, it had faded considerably... but he pulled back surprised that it was indeed still there. Not only that, but it was mingled along with a much stronger and more offensive scent: slavers.
It was almost too predictable. Alpha out on his own, runs into slavers without his pack, gets captured and finds his whole pack in shackles... It would be so classic. So unoriginal. So obvious it would happen. Yet... yet when Xercese found the scent he did one thing that saved that from happening. He jerked back at first, assessing the situation: the ground had been marked there, and the scent was still reeking fresh. That meant they were still there. He glanced around him, up at the rolling clouds that were bleeding rain and the back at the stinking patch of earth. After some deliberation, he dropped down and rolled in the strange scent. The ground was now almost mud, and his whole body was coated in grime, pine needles and the 'slaver smell'. He shook himself and rose to head deeper into the forest. The rain was slowly washing every scent near him away, but he at least had some cover in case he came out upwind of them. As long as he could manage to catch them unaware and lead them away from the pack, it would work out fine.
Xercese felt thunder rumble through his paws and he slowed to a stop under a nearby tree, taking a break from the spite of the storm. The ground and skeletons of trees flashed brilliant white and, from nearby bushes that were so very familiar to him, he saw a flash of lit eyes staring at him. The second of lightning faded and with darkness, the brute was alone again. The fact that they knew he was trailing them now made it slightly more difficult. If they had enough wit and cunning to have one or all of them backtrack then... well, you know how much trouble it would be.
-CRACKSHHHtchk-
A branch tumbled down with a crash behind Xercese, and he spun around with a start. The rain was almost blinding, and his senses were washing away with the mud. It was darker and his cool calm was slowly slipping. It is harder to judge your enemy when they are uncountable, unable to be seen and impossible to see. What made him really unnerved, though, was that Hayashi had the pups and this danger could be real and deadly to her. Nothing unnerved him more than the invisible danger that he could do nothing about. Another branch fell behind him... Or was it a twig snapping under paw? behind the thunder, it all sounded the same. Xercese mulled over all possible ideas in his mind in under a second, waiting tensely for another 'branch'. It came, much closer, along with a distinct snarl.
In that instant he made up his mind, and plunged further from their home and towards the neighboring pack lands.
---
Even after the rain let up, he knew they were still following. He could hear them now, judge their numbers... about 6 or 7 of them. More were probably heading back to the pack, but the bulk of them were trying to get the prize jewel. The lead male. The alpha. A diamond worth a little effort. They weren't running at him all at once, either... mostly, they took turns running him and spent the rest of their energy tracking, hunting or resting. Then they would run to swap out with the runner. They were slowly running him down to shreds, like hounds at a rabbit. Xercese didn't care... if most of them were distracted, Micara, Hayashi and Royce could fight the rest off. He was confident they could... It didn't matter what happened to him as long as they could raise the pups. He would survive... he always did.
A bush crumpled flat behind him and a growl of satisfied cold rage sliced his thoughts. It distinctly reminded him of how much his legs were burning and how his chest felt like a knife was slowly being twisted around. Coughing hoarsely, he sped up his pace and turned to look at his pursuer.
Figures.
Just like it always happens... a trip over a stick that just happened to be there. A step in a trap that's positioned just right. A thwack in the face from an overhanging branch that knocks him out.
His legs buckled and he felt his left foreleg twisted and trapped in the rusted old humantrap sitting in plain sight. The metal cut into his leg, and through bubbles of pain he heard satisfied laughter blurring into a howl of triumph. He knew the pain was harsh, and the blood was sticky and warm... Xercese could feel teeth sinking into his nape and chains sliding over his neck... The faint howls of other beasts soon coming were almost too quiet to hear past the black curtains... and he could only barely see the other pairs of legs before the black, cold fuzz encased him.
Chapter 2. The Captivity
-a fuzzy forest, dirty brown paws blurred into grass and dirt... darkness again-
Xercese coughed and twitched his left paw. It stung like an adder bit it. His side rose and fell hesitantly a couple of times, and voices faded in and out... He couldn't distinguish words even if he wanted to.
-the forest is sharper... not pine trees, though... the paws are going away... the light is too much... darkness again.-
The wolf twitched his ears, trying to gain his bearings, and listened to the words... "No, we didn't manage to get..." the voice faded and came again, gruff and sharp. "... bloody brute distracted..." Xercese opened his eyes, trying to concentrate on the words. "... half the pack was chasing him while the rest of the pack killed off Udeko, Liou and Sting... couldn't get them. They were gone by th... Oh! he's up now." The voice turned out to be coming from Mr. Brown paws. Xerc grunted and silently bared his fangs, meeting the yellow-eyed gaze.
"We need Zues to help us with the rest of them. He's always been a good hunter. As for this'un, how 'bout you guys drag him over with the rest of them? He can't be sold until the leg heals anyways." Brown Paws didn't even finish before 2 sets of teeth latched onto his scruff and his hind leg... he could feel the dirt and grime rubbing into his undercoat as he was dragged. A moan was greeted with contempt and a harder bite from his captors, so for the most part he was silent in his suffering.
One thing he knew: that was that his pack and lands were safe. He could get out of this some how. That was a guaranteed thing... but only if he knew he had a pack to go back to.
The thoughts going through his head flickered to darkness and he found himself galloping through days, or was it weeks?, at a time. He had the faintest wisps of memory where he remembered chewing and swallowing something, or drinking from puddle or some thing like that, but most of his thoughts were nightmares that stretched on and passed too quickly to recall all at once.
"Infection... you d*mn hunters.... infected his leg... might not live... still can't find... she's still hiding, the cursed alphess..."
It was surreal for him. Each time he woke up, he knew that the trap was off of his leg, and yet he could feel the fire still burning his flesh there. He would close his eyes and wake up again later feeling worse, or better or horrid... like one roller coaster ride from hell.
---
The morning his mind returned and the infection started to fade was bleary and fog-coated. It wasn't really all that different from the morning that he left, and the air told him he couldn't be more than a day away from his pack lands... He lifted his head and pushed his lower half to get up, grunting annoyance when his left paw would not cooperate with his right and he slid back in a pile of leaves, grime and chains. He could see from his position on the soft ground that there were other pathetic beasts like him chained likewise to the trees. Most of them were broken and bruised, and several were just sitting there cowering. The guards that gathered around like little wildflower clumps were big and scruffy, covered in mats and scars. He could see a couple of them that looked like messengers from a pack land he once visited.
One of them turned to look at him and smile demurely, almost alluringly, his tongue lolling. Damien... that was his name... Xercese knew him well. Slippery, yes, but the beast shared the pack meal on more than one occasion.
A nip on Damien's hindquarters turned him back to the group of chatting guards and, though he could not hear the words, Xercese could tell the tone of voice the others were using was contemptuous and derogatory. The captive alpha turned his head to mull over a slightly unnerving thought that scene made him think of...
Neutral is never a safe place to be.
Brown Paws was standing nearby, scowling at a pair of scouts, and the sharp bark to attention he gave caught even Xercese's attention. "Look, just leave enough of us here to handle them. We'll take the rest of these scum to the Stones for sorting before we bring them to the Rock..." Official, then... they were getting dragged off to the informal meeting place of the southern packs where they could kill off and sort through weak, strong and female wolves before the Rock.
Xercese flattened his ears to dull out the rest of the words, his mind only on that first sentence... Enough to handle them. The whole pack would have to be here to 'handle' them if everybody in his group pitched in.