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Post by Kristofor on Aug 17, 2023 14:51:35 GMT -6
This fish isn't as bony as the rest of the little things he's been preparing for the fawn. Even with the spine snapped, it flops and tries to bite him, twitching and snapping. But he just waits it out, putting the snappy angry fish out on a rock. It'll tire soon enough. A fishy, oily taste lingers on his tongue as the fox checks for holes in the little net without touching it. Adding his own smell might scare away the fish. But another brown snappy fish seems to have caught the scent of the carcasses, as he has to lift the net out of the water to find it with its snaggy little teeth caught in the holey mesh. Tiny little eyes roll in panic as it twists and flails without water. NO WATER! NO WATER! Shocked at the new catch, the fox grabs at the fish, but its too slippy. Like its oozing at the mouth while trying to escape. Behind him, he can hear the scraping of something hard on metal. Was the fawn trying to stand up on its own? 46
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Post by Kristofor on Aug 17, 2023 17:16:45 GMT -6
Yes, the fawn is trying to stand up on its own; but the hard surface beneath their hooves is difficult to get a grip on. Cloven hooves are more goaty and have better traction, if they were experienced. But without being able to 'see' supposedly, and nothing there to guide, the fawn is struggling to find footing, and beneath them shifts. Its alarming and sends them on their rear end several times with a 'thump'. A bleat of alarm. Sitting on butt, should be standing. walking. Not stuck. STUCK! 'Calm down Suffolk, I'm coming.' ears twitch at strange sounds that are familiar sounding, but somewhat far. There's the small scratching on ground. Breathing noises. The tell tale slapping in the background. A fishy smell. Food? 'Hold still, I'll get you down. A warmth on one side, as something captures the fawn around the sides. Unable to see what had hold, it squirms and thrashes and kicks those spindly legs. 'Suffolk! Its okay, it is just me'. He tries to sound calm... until the leg kicks him in the knee. 47
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Post by Kristofor on Aug 17, 2023 20:48:28 GMT -6
Now fox knees dont' work like people knees. The length from ankle-heel to toes is much longer on a fox with a flat pad. THe knees are much higher up, do the same thing, but the ankle is a second joint for his leg. Being kicked in the knee, HURTS. There's not much strength behind the flailing fawn's kick but its still painful. He howls. The baby fawn bleats in alarm and they both tumble to the ground. Several off-colorful phrases drift through his head but Kris is too polite to say them; he's a polite lad, even by himself. Laying on his back, sharp stabs going through his knee. Its not broken, through careful flexing that does hurt but doesn't feel broken. Might be out of soOCKET ow. Ok, it shifts a bit when he twists it. Its only been seen in comics, but there are people and animalfolk who are able to dislocate their joints at will... maybe that's what happened to his knee. 48
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Post by Kristofor on Aug 17, 2023 21:46:42 GMT -6
It takes several tries and he has to maneuver like a land crab with a tail over to the crooked tree and hook his paw around it and gently lean back while pushing the dislocation back into place. It hurts and makes him yowl, but there's a pop, he comes free unexpectedly and lays there. Breathing deeply as it hurts, a throb versus a stab. Might take him a bit to get back to the city at this rate. Beside him, the fawn is struggling to find their feet. Not for injury, but laying down and getting up again hasn't been practiced. Just the initial stand and a bit of stilty walking. They can hear something beside them, moving. The smell of familiar smell, so the fawn didn't start bleating in alarm. A stiff feeling in their limbs and body, to freeze in place until whatever was there went away. Was it trying to play dead again? 49
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Post by Kristofor on Aug 17, 2023 22:54:28 GMT -6
The sounds of two animals breathing over the splashing of the river as wind ripples the water, sending more water splashing over the edge of the exposed basket drifting in the river. The baby fawn sighs and lays down to rest, dozing off within minutes. the fox can hear the change of breath as one falls asleep; good. Means it should be easier to pick them up and put them back in the cart. Quietly, he rolls over, being careful of his aching knee, he cautiously crawl/crouches to the riverbed to collect what he had out. The fish were layered on top of each other, as he planed to eat them anyhow, water dribbling out between the cordages. any fish remainders stayed in the net, and he tossed in the two brown fish that had finally stopped moving. Reminder to himself not to bite down on those; too oily tasting. With gear gathered, he limps back to the cart, loading his satchel as quietly as possible. Loaded again, he gathers the fawn carefully, letting it pour out of his arms gently into the waiting cart bed. It became a very slow journey back to the apartment. Mostly due to his knee, and not wanting to jostle the faun awake on him. Tomorrow he'd face the music and talk to his landlord. Because he is aware of the limit. 50 -end +10 levels total Suffolk
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Post by Nadia on Aug 18, 2023 21:53:32 GMT -6
Plip. Plip. Plip.
Was that rain? Oh great. It didn't seem that cloudy this morning, but the sky is full of dark clouds swollen with precipitation. Slowly the drops fall at first, but they quickly pick up speed. Before too long, it's a full on downpour, and there aren't many places to hide in the canyons.
If that wasn't bad enough, the ground around the river turns into a sludgy muck. It's hard to navigate, sucking at the feet of all those who try to step in it.
[The next 5 posts yield no results. Owning Clog Boots prevents this.]
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