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Post by Kadin on Mar 16, 2021 16:05:12 GMT -6
 Looks like you hook onto something! It isn't... moving. But it's something! |
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Post by Èdan on Mar 17, 2021 10:32:14 GMT -6
For a time he stands, watching the bobble gently float and drift in the slow current. There always seems to be this expectation that should you cast a line, the fish are surely to bite within moments, regardless of how many times you do it. He knows better. He's done this before. And yet.. The eyes peer at the bright red thing, expecting it to sink should he so much as glance aside. It's not terribly riveting entertainment, but it's a better alternative to crouching around on rocks, making one's back sore after some hours.
Beside him, the pup is some distance downstream, now likewise bereft of a form of entertainment - With the lines being pulled up from that little shallow pool, there's nothing to draw more shadows, cause noise or ripples in the water beyond the natural occurrences on their own. And the leash is still too limiting to get him close enough to the man to play there, so the pup is stuck wandering back and forth between the two extremes. To the barest closeness of the shore line, then to the edge of the tree's overhanging canopy towards the man, and back. It makes the shadow slink back behind the tree and extend again with each pass, the better to keep the trunk between it and the loud beast.
. 51 .
Perscitus: 12 (1/5)
Atrum: 4 (1/5)
Dry Season: 31 |
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Post by Èdan on Mar 17, 2021 10:48:41 GMT -6
Finally, the pup stops at the canopy's edge, leash taut behind him, sits, and throws his head back. A mournful howl suddenly pierces the air, strangely well carrying considering the tiny body it was coming from. The shadow ducks behind the trunk and into the grass immediately, while the man finally tears his gaze away from the bobbler, something twitching at the sides of his head under the hat. The look is one of surprise, but not for the usual reasons. The pup has been loud - yapping, growling, tumbling - but this vocalization is entirely new.
And not stopping.
Even as he's staring the thing down, the pup keeps going, pausing only to look directly at him, before letting out another howl. At each new one, the man's face looks pained, more so at the noise than the tonality of it. "Alright, alright, alright, enough already!" he grumbles, setting down the fishing pole between two bigger rocks, to ensure it wouldn't be caught in the current (or anything else) and walking over to the rakai. The river delta is a fairly remote and peaceful bit of land, just far enough from the City to be solitary (But not so close to the wilds as to be dangerous). Even so, with the hound going off like that for any stretch of time is likely to draw attention even far and wide (And that is the last thing that he wants).
. 52 .
Perscitus: 12 (2/5)
Atrum: 4 (2/5)
Dry Season: 32 |
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Post by Èdan on Mar 17, 2021 13:36:38 GMT -6
Like as not, some poor soul might end up thinking the pup's in some spot of trouble and come try and save it (He swore the hounds of the kennels had never been this needy for attention. Then again, it had never been him in charge with giving them attention in the first place, either). As soon as the man approaches, the howling stops and the pup instead leaps back up onto his feet, tail lashing in excitement.
"What is it you want, then?" he stops in front of it, staring down. "I'm not letting you into the water." (Goddess knows, then there really might be a reason someone has to rush up to rescue the thing. The slow tide doesn't make for fast nor deep rushes, but the pup is small and incredibly reckless). Green, excited eyes meet him, with no hope for a clear response, as the beast simply dances around the spot, occasionally gnawing on the leash as a toy, before staring back up at him. He sighs, running a hand across his face.. The bear was a pleasant companion in comparison, and the shadow hardly an inconvenience. Had he known these dragon-hounds were the needy sort, he might have reconsidered getting one.
But that's all past (And woeing over what could have been or might have been was something he dropped doing long ago).
. 53 .
Perscitus: 12 (3/5)
Atrum: 4 (3/5)
Dry Season: 33 |
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Post by Èdan on Mar 17, 2021 13:44:31 GMT -6
So he took in what is ahead of him instead. Reading people is easy, and while beasts are far from people, everything is motivated by something when it all comes down to it. For the most part all living things had that tendency to want to keep living, for starters. The pup had been yipping and yapping on occasion, but the main change to howling happened after he had taken out the lines. Plus, him moving off probably didn't leave it with much opportunity to annoy something..
"Bored, then?" he asks, hands on hips. The pup only yips in response and rolls along the grass. If there is a state that could be classified as 'happy', the thing is probably currently inhabiting it. It's likely as close to an answer as this thing is going to get. His eyes scour the tree but aren't able to spot the shadow, leading him to suspect it's likely hidden better than before or slinked off somewhere among the grass. He gives a soft grunt and heads over to the equipment, digging through what remains of tools. Most of it is hooks and a single remaining lure, but..
He pockets the lure and grabs some of the remaining line instead, heading over to the branch again.
. 54 .
Perscitus: 12 (4/5)
Atrum: 4 (4/5)
Dry Season: 34 |
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Post by Èdan on Mar 17, 2021 13:58:38 GMT -6
He ties one end to the branch, same as before, but rather than have it drop into the water, the line is ran shorter, with one of the lead weights attached to the end, as opposed to a hook. For added measure, he also ties in a handful of dried leaves in a bundle, spooking the shadow from its near-perfect hiding spot among them, and lets it hang from the branch just a few feet off the ground. The effect is immediate - no sooner does he finish and step back that the pup rushes the new hanging "toy" and begins to jump and bat at it. It back to that happy-go-lucky yipping again, but at least it's better than the howls, he figures, as he returns to the pole.
The line has been slowly unspooling on the fishing rod, a clear indication that something was pulling, but not strong enough to be a fish. When he picks it up and starts to reel the line in, there's some resistance to show there's something caught, although whatever it is doesn't seem very alive any more. A final yank proves the truth of it well enough - Seems like it has never been alive to begin with, one of those 'cor-all' thing.
"Hm," he considers a moment, before untangling the object from the hook and setting the last of their lures. Once done, the line is cast into the water once more.
(using)
. 55 .
Perscitus: 13 (0/5)
Atrum: 5 (0/5)
Dry Season: 35
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Post by Jack on Mar 18, 2021 8:17:04 GMT -6
The water splashes a little when the lure hits it, scattering the fish for a moment before they go back to what they were doing
[Nothing happens]
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Post by Èdan on Mar 19, 2021 11:18:02 GMT -6
The surface of the water settles quickly, any shapes or shadow beneath it far too far away from his vantage to be spotted. Not so quick are the nibbles, as he can certainly feel some tenseness in the line, but not enough to qualify as a catch yet. Go on, he thinks, keep testing it. Sooner or later one of the fish is going to make the less survival-friendly idea and actually try to snatch the glittering thing away (And given it was a fish-shaped lure, more likely to be something on the bigger side, able to eat other fish. As far as he's been able to tell, size and smarts generally tended to sway toward opposite scales of the same spectrum, as if polarized equally).
He has time, and he has patience (Goddess, out of everything those two are probably the only things he has in relatively never-ending supply). Eventually the pup can be raised to fish for him, and even the shadow might find some use once it settles down from constant panic, making his life easier. But until then, he has a clear blue sky, a pleasant breeze and the promise of on-coming spring to bring life back into the forest, so it looks less bare-bones.
. 56 .
Perscitus: 13 (1/5)
Atrum: 5 (1/5)
Dry Season: 36 |
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Post by Èdan on Mar 19, 2021 11:26:46 GMT -6
He adjusts the line and sits down on one of the rocks, keeping watch on the waters. There's a peacefulness to this, as opposed to skulking around with a net.. Makes one almost wonder why he bothered with the blasted thing at all. At most it seemed to have only got him drenched, at best a distraction for the pup when the shadow wasn't. Perhaps a better tool to fend off any larger creatures or aquatic beasts, since the fishing pole didn't seem to be made from the type of metal to all too durable, but barely that as well. He'd heard of a time in his homeland where certain seasons weren't good for being out and about on your own, in the middle of a wide open field, which most fishing spots both inland and coastal usually were.
There's be a beat of leathery wings and that would be that. The tail began to tap against the rock in irritation (Good riddance to those stupid things. The knights didn't often do things fair or right, but even a stopped clock can be right at least twice a day). And what fair irony to flee that land as far as one's feet could take you only to land in a wholly different land where wholly different beasts not only run amok, but are actively encouraged to do so.
. 57 .
Perscitus: 13 (2/5)
Atrum: 5 (2/5)
Dry Season: 37 |
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Post by Èdan on Mar 19, 2021 11:34:03 GMT -6
Compared to that the shadow and pup seem a pleasant vacation. The tail continues to tap in irritation, until he emerges from the thoughts long enough to recall his place (And face). The courier made for a more comfortable form, even if it also meant feeling far more exposed than usual, but at least certain ticks could be excused. And speaking of ticks..
He tries a few test reels of the fishing rod, pulling it back and letting the current carry it onward again, trying to feel if anything is caught. There's no resistance to it, suggesting the opposite.. In fact, now that he thinks about it, there's really hardly any resistance at all.. Which shouldn't really happen with a weighted lure. The eyes squint at the water, annoyance already preparing itself as he reels the line in.
Empty. Chewed through above the lure itself, leaving only a dangling line attached to a bobber. Deodamnatus. Not again. These things were greedy. With a sigh, he gets to his feet and starts walking back towards the tree, where the pup is still having fun with the toy-line (And the shadow is likely still somewhere in hiding. Truly, it seems that he is the scariest of all beasts, the way these creatures keep reacting to him).
. 58 .
Perscitus: 13 (3/5)
Atrum: 5 (3/5)
Dry Season: 38 |
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Post by Èdan on Mar 19, 2021 11:47:07 GMT -6
As he's walking, he reels in the last of the line, disassembling the fishing rod in the process. Without any bait or lures, they're unlikely to catch anything, considering they were having a tough time catching anything with them. When he's passing the pup, there's a grumbled, "When you're all grown, you better end up having a use here." directed at the whimsical thing, who doesn't even pause in trying to catch and hit the line-toy. Too much of a pup, that one. He'll need to find someone to train it up before it's too old to learn anything, but at the same time it's too young to pick up on anything trickier than perhaps a simple 'sit', 'stay', 'move' or 'I swear if you..'.
He crouches down before the equipment, folding up the last pieces of the fishing rod and pauses. Behind the bucket of fish, two green eyes silently watch him. It is not a glare, and it is not a stare (There's a distinction many are remiss to understand). But the man does return a stare, picking up on something.. unusual. "Atrum," he says and the shadow's gaze shifts ever so slightly, as if searching meaning from him for half a second. Oh. Well. This just got interesting.
. 59 .
Perscitus: 13 (4/5)
Atrum: 5 (4/5)
Dry Season: 39 |
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Post by Èdan on Mar 19, 2021 11:54:12 GMT -6
He has figured the shadow to be a creature. And he has figured it to be smarter than the pup. But he didn't expect understanding from it.. Not in the same way as with other creatures. This thing.. whatever it's composition - Spirit, shadow, physical, corporeal, whatever - has intelligence. "Curious.." he murmurs to himself, brows slightly raising as the mind begins to catalogue these new possibilities. "Perhaps you might be even more useful than the other one." (He should really make a note to look up more information on this thing, once they get back).
For now, though, he finishes packing up the fishing rod and heads over to the pup. The thing doesn't even know it yet, but it's his lucky day - They get to go home and he'll be able to walk through the streets filled with Goddess knows what kinds of scents, sounds and things to yap his tiny little head off. The man undoes the leash from the branch and loops his arm through it, the better to keep the thing from simply running off. He then unties the line with the weight, rolling it up and taking it back to their things. The equipment packed, he throws the bag over his shoulder in a casual manner and picks up the bucket, revealing the shadow hidden under it.
"Come," he says simply, motioning onward and starting to walk, "Time to head home." There's hesitation in the shadow for a moment.. before it slinks after them, disappearing into the man's own shadow.
. 60 . (added) Perscitus: 14 (0/5)
Atrum: 6 (0/5)
Dry Season: 40
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Post by Kadin on Mar 22, 2021 18:21:15 GMT -6
Before you go, be sure to pick up that shell on your way back for a souvenir!
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Post by Èdan on Aug 7, 2021 2:44:43 GMT -6
A lonesome courier passes through the smattering of islands in the braider river delta of the Bend, with just a pack on his back and some fishing tools over the shoulder. For once there is no pup at his heels, loud enough to wake the very Gods from their slumbers (In large part because the thing's still being trained to cease said loudness by that baakir-owning trainer). So for all the world he seems alone, as he reaches that specific little patch of shallow pool, rocky shore and a single solitary tree. He throws down the bag, lays down the tools and unlatches a bucket from the side. Heading to the water, he fills it up and returns to place it down next to the things (Although still a distance, in case any of the to-be captives entertained thoughts of splashing water).
The humanish then leans down and pulls out a box of lures, opening the lid. Among the shiny and less shiny bobbles, two neon green eyes stare back at him, small for the size of the box. "Time for work," he tells the shadow and starts picking out hooks from the shelves of the box.
. 1 . Atrum: 6 (1/5) Wet Season: 1 |
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Post by Èdan on Aug 7, 2021 3:09:09 GMT -6
The shadow slinks back, deeper into the box, but doesn't immediately flee, even as the man snatched up a roll of line quite close to it, before standing and walking towards the tree. Since the revelation from last time, it would be a lie to say he hasn't found it interesting observing the thing, especially that slightly conflicted disposition. It's more than obvious the shadow is unsettled by him (Not surprising, even being sharper in mind, it's still a beast, and beasts simply don't vibe well with him), and yet it doesn't run. The thing hides, yes. Often and repeatedly, but it also seems to always stay just within eyesight, just within some measure of reach.
(He can only assume that, being a creature of some darker affinities, it's equally fascinated by whatever dark sense makes it uneasy. Which rather makes them similar).
The hand reaches up and ties the lines to the branch, slightly further apart than before (Now that he doesn't have to worry about the pup gunning for them as much).
. 2 . Atrum: 6 (2/5) Wet Season: 2 |
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