*Kelth sits at the table in his Hive-placed longhouse. The candles on the table lit, a large meal stalled over it. The door of entrance is open. Those who call theirselves allies would know they are welcome to dine with him before the march to salt..*
*Vale knocks and enters, being offered a seat by Kelth. The streets of the Hive smell of delicious food and every now and then, some runts come to ask for some scraps, which Kelth gives willingly.
Vale and Kelth dine together and for the first time, open up to another about loss and pain. Perhaps the notion of possible death looming and it's meaning for both men, steadying their friendship even more. *
* Time passes on and Quinn arrives with Altair, shortly after, Vyse and Gunther...the wee longhouse is being filled slowly. People eating together and sharing that last moment before the dire hour strikes*
*As Quinn informs the group that the gathering is starting, Kelth leaves notes for Isania and Kara with a map, just in case, where to gather up.
Kelth proceeds to draw warpaint on his own face, claw-shaped in blue, over his eyes. Vyse receives a warpaint in shape of wolf, delicate, in blue, making the warm-hearted bard look downright menacing. Gunther, Vyse's Wolf, receives three claw-marks in blue along it's snout.
Quinn receives drawing of Falcon, for his wisdom and skill. Argent claims his Falcon Silver, thus Falcon was bestowed upon his face.
Isania too, receives a Crow once met outside the longhouse. The Crow of War, raining death from the skies.
Kara, receives her wings don with serrated blades and upon her request, a smiling face on her left buttock*
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gokhBJWSjeM
(( for those included, feel free to post here, if you like to share your characters POV
The Final Moments...
-
*MadJackValance
- Posts: 58
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
As Vyse is welcomed into the warm, familiar dwelling, his beloved hound, Gunther, trots in tow. His claws ticketty-tap at the floorboards as he steps lively and excited, panting happily. A plethora of curious and enticing scents and sounds beckon his keen animal senses in a thousand directions at once. There was a subtle darkness that his animal intuition wouldn't ignore, but in light of happy faces and food, he was blissfully aloof. The warm resonance of friends conversing fills the room, dull and pleasant to his uncomprehending ears, a select few words and phrases cutting through the dog's babbling stream of swift and simple thoughts...
'Foooood! Smell food, and furs, and friends, and food! What's this? Oh! This one is familiar! Sniff sniff. Your boots! You been so many places! Wish Master-Man Vyvie would take me places more often. Wait... is that...? Treats-Friend Quinn! He ALWAYS gives the best treats! I bet he has some f-... Ooh, he brought his fancy stick! I wanna chew on it! But what if he gets mad? Master-Man got mad when I chewed on that curvy bone he carries around... Maybe he'll get me my own stick, and then-...'
The hound's attention in quickly snatched by Altair's barked greeting, a jovial "Hey!" barked in return. 'Friend Altair?! He looks different! Aw and he's up there with all the food! Lucky! He must be smart with all those big words he uses. I wonder if he wants to play... Ooo! Maybe he'll give me food if I-... Sniff sniff...'
The hound's nose leads him to the next seat around the table 'Leaf-Ears-Friend!' He pants happily as he recognizes Argent. 'Ahh, he smells like so many flowers! And.. what... is... -that- smell... Gunther's panting craw shuts for a thoughtful moment as he tries to place the mystery scent. The moment is a brief one, though impressive for a pup with his attention span. 'I wish I knew where those flowers were. I wanna go roll in 'em! Oh! But Lady-Master got upset that time I rolled in her flowers...'
Suddenly a waft of savory meat seizes the wolf's snout. He rockets over, his dark eyes flashing Kelth an appreciative glance before he ravenously sets upon the proffered food in a flurry of scoffing, scarfing, and smacking. In no time at all, he's packed the juicy treat away and looks up at the mountain of a man. The young canine regards him with the subtle animal sense of recognizing an alpha. 'Big-Friend Kelth gives big treats. Have to remember that. Sniff sniff... He smells like the fire thing Master-Man makes his pointy feather sticks at... I wonder where he got all these furs...'
The dog's inquisitive gaze falls on Vale for a moment before he cautiously sniffs in that direction. 'Who's this? Kind of smells familiar. Hey, he has an eye thing like Master and Altair... I wonder why. Maybe I should get an eye thing, too!...'
Back across the table, a ruddy hand dips low with the promise of a morsel of cheese. The pooch hurries back to Vyse's side and happily chomps it down. A short exchange takes place as Kelth remarks on the havoc it will wreak on the dogs stomach, and more so the olfactory horrors. Chuckles rattle off around the table at that, and the hound's ears perk, his tail swishing merrily at the sound.
'I ate a thing and people got happy! Maybe... I should eat more things?' Gunther's snout dawns mischievously above the horizon of the table's edge, sniffing loudly. 'Why do they put all the good stuff up high? If it was down here they could nap -and- eat so much easier!' He gives a final huffing snort as his inquisitive nose withdraws. ' I bet Short-Friend Tammy would agree with me. She's smart! Even if she is silly for having a tail on the back of her head.... Lady-Master's tail is in the right place. Why don't the rest of them have tails?'
The din in the longhouse begins to settle, as the grim task of battle draws closer, the thickness of the air unmistakable now, quiet. Gunther follows carefully as Vyse gets up and makes his way to the head of the table, where Kelth adorns his firebrick features with war paint. The hound watches, unsure and curious, as the familiar shapes of their friendly faces are broken and masked by the stark blue pigment. It's then that Kelth leans down, his words not understood, but the tone warm and reassuring to the hound. Still, the warrior poet's voice is honest, not disguising the dark truth of what lies ahead. Three blue streaks on each side of his snout. He's marked now, like the rest of them. Included. Part of the pack. And for that, he's happy.
A handful of minutes pass, words and smiles exchanged, more faces adorned with the azure markings of the pack. Then the bard departs, carried down the uneven streets by nervous steps, the loyal hound in his shadow. They arrive back in the cluttered apartment, Slagside. The tiefling offers Gunther words that he doesn't understand, but he knows he's heard before, the tone is clear, however. With a groaning whimper, he agrees to dutifully protect the homestead in his master's absence. A few measures of playful petting and a warm embrace, and Gunther's best friend, leader, and caretaker slips through the door, back out into the street.
Gunther props his front paws on the windowsill and watches the bard's departure, as he gathers with the others, and their painted pack marches towards the Bottle & Jug. Gunther whines as the squad fade out of sight, the sound crescendoing into a dull howl. He waits a moment, expectant, hoping to hear an echoing howl in return, but there isn't one. The lonely hound hops up to curl at the foot of his masters' empty bed. All the excitement fading in the quiet of the tiny apartment. His eyelids sagged, and the canine drifted off to sleep with one optimistic thought...
'I hope master comes home soon... I hope he brings leftovers.'
'Foooood! Smell food, and furs, and friends, and food! What's this? Oh! This one is familiar! Sniff sniff. Your boots! You been so many places! Wish Master-Man Vyvie would take me places more often. Wait... is that...? Treats-Friend Quinn! He ALWAYS gives the best treats! I bet he has some f-... Ooh, he brought his fancy stick! I wanna chew on it! But what if he gets mad? Master-Man got mad when I chewed on that curvy bone he carries around... Maybe he'll get me my own stick, and then-...'
The hound's attention in quickly snatched by Altair's barked greeting, a jovial "Hey!" barked in return. 'Friend Altair?! He looks different! Aw and he's up there with all the food! Lucky! He must be smart with all those big words he uses. I wonder if he wants to play... Ooo! Maybe he'll give me food if I-... Sniff sniff...'
The hound's nose leads him to the next seat around the table 'Leaf-Ears-Friend!' He pants happily as he recognizes Argent. 'Ahh, he smells like so many flowers! And.. what... is... -that- smell... Gunther's panting craw shuts for a thoughtful moment as he tries to place the mystery scent. The moment is a brief one, though impressive for a pup with his attention span. 'I wish I knew where those flowers were. I wanna go roll in 'em! Oh! But Lady-Master got upset that time I rolled in her flowers...'
Suddenly a waft of savory meat seizes the wolf's snout. He rockets over, his dark eyes flashing Kelth an appreciative glance before he ravenously sets upon the proffered food in a flurry of scoffing, scarfing, and smacking. In no time at all, he's packed the juicy treat away and looks up at the mountain of a man. The young canine regards him with the subtle animal sense of recognizing an alpha. 'Big-Friend Kelth gives big treats. Have to remember that. Sniff sniff... He smells like the fire thing Master-Man makes his pointy feather sticks at... I wonder where he got all these furs...'
The dog's inquisitive gaze falls on Vale for a moment before he cautiously sniffs in that direction. 'Who's this? Kind of smells familiar. Hey, he has an eye thing like Master and Altair... I wonder why. Maybe I should get an eye thing, too!...'
Back across the table, a ruddy hand dips low with the promise of a morsel of cheese. The pooch hurries back to Vyse's side and happily chomps it down. A short exchange takes place as Kelth remarks on the havoc it will wreak on the dogs stomach, and more so the olfactory horrors. Chuckles rattle off around the table at that, and the hound's ears perk, his tail swishing merrily at the sound.
'I ate a thing and people got happy! Maybe... I should eat more things?' Gunther's snout dawns mischievously above the horizon of the table's edge, sniffing loudly. 'Why do they put all the good stuff up high? If it was down here they could nap -and- eat so much easier!' He gives a final huffing snort as his inquisitive nose withdraws. ' I bet Short-Friend Tammy would agree with me. She's smart! Even if she is silly for having a tail on the back of her head.... Lady-Master's tail is in the right place. Why don't the rest of them have tails?'
The din in the longhouse begins to settle, as the grim task of battle draws closer, the thickness of the air unmistakable now, quiet. Gunther follows carefully as Vyse gets up and makes his way to the head of the table, where Kelth adorns his firebrick features with war paint. The hound watches, unsure and curious, as the familiar shapes of their friendly faces are broken and masked by the stark blue pigment. It's then that Kelth leans down, his words not understood, but the tone warm and reassuring to the hound. Still, the warrior poet's voice is honest, not disguising the dark truth of what lies ahead. Three blue streaks on each side of his snout. He's marked now, like the rest of them. Included. Part of the pack. And for that, he's happy.
A handful of minutes pass, words and smiles exchanged, more faces adorned with the azure markings of the pack. Then the bard departs, carried down the uneven streets by nervous steps, the loyal hound in his shadow. They arrive back in the cluttered apartment, Slagside. The tiefling offers Gunther words that he doesn't understand, but he knows he's heard before, the tone is clear, however. With a groaning whimper, he agrees to dutifully protect the homestead in his master's absence. A few measures of playful petting and a warm embrace, and Gunther's best friend, leader, and caretaker slips through the door, back out into the street.
Gunther props his front paws on the windowsill and watches the bard's departure, as he gathers with the others, and their painted pack marches towards the Bottle & Jug. Gunther whines as the squad fade out of sight, the sound crescendoing into a dull howl. He waits a moment, expectant, hoping to hear an echoing howl in return, but there isn't one. The lonely hound hops up to curl at the foot of his masters' empty bed. All the excitement fading in the quiet of the tiny apartment. His eyelids sagged, and the canine drifted off to sleep with one optimistic thought...
'I hope master comes home soon... I hope he brings leftovers.'