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Week Fourteen- Thursday
Who: Bear and Ruby
What: Bear just returned from hunting.
When: Thursday, 8:30 a.m.-ish
Where: the Canopy.
Rating: TBD
Bear huffed as he carried his prize back to the Canopy. The sun was out and the wind had died. Bear's t'shirt actually clung to his skin, damp from the sweat of his exertion of carrying the buck over his shoulder. His long hair flicked from side to side as he walked, for once simply laying down his back, no wind to lift strands about his face. Wishing his hands were free to strum the string of his bow like an instrument, Bear let a low chant, the simple words growling out of his throat and voicing the joy that came with this war being over. Of course, the aftermath would include the Feathers in a way that was more unpleasant than the tree-dwellers would like. They hadn't chosen a side during the battles, hadn't made a move against the Jackals... but they couldn't stay tucked up in the branches forever. Bear knew that his services as a negotiator would be in high demand soon. The leaders would be at each others throats if they did all of the talking directly to each other and Bear did have a tendency to think before he spoke. He wasn't terribly excited about meeting these Jackal people and their Leader, but he supposed someone had to set up contact.
The buck thudded to the ground at the base of Bear's tree, it's rack almost cracking as the full force of its weight hit the earth. It was a beautiful work of nature, something the Great Spirit must have been proud to create. But this morning had been the first time in a week and a half that Bear had found the time to go out and hunt- the Feathers needed the meat and the buck had been a great prize indeed. Pulling the creature behind his tree, where no one would see the blood coming from it, Bear took out his knife and began skinning and gutting the animal, letting the blood wash over his hands as he thanked the Great spirit for his gift. Bear's low, rough voice carried slightly through the light air, the Cheyenne words almost mystical in the golden light of the morning.
What: Bear just returned from hunting.
When: Thursday, 8:30 a.m.-ish
Where: the Canopy.
Rating: TBD
Bear huffed as he carried his prize back to the Canopy. The sun was out and the wind had died. Bear's t'shirt actually clung to his skin, damp from the sweat of his exertion of carrying the buck over his shoulder. His long hair flicked from side to side as he walked, for once simply laying down his back, no wind to lift strands about his face. Wishing his hands were free to strum the string of his bow like an instrument, Bear let a low chant, the simple words growling out of his throat and voicing the joy that came with this war being over. Of course, the aftermath would include the Feathers in a way that was more unpleasant than the tree-dwellers would like. They hadn't chosen a side during the battles, hadn't made a move against the Jackals... but they couldn't stay tucked up in the branches forever. Bear knew that his services as a negotiator would be in high demand soon. The leaders would be at each others throats if they did all of the talking directly to each other and Bear did have a tendency to think before he spoke. He wasn't terribly excited about meeting these Jackal people and their Leader, but he supposed someone had to set up contact.
The buck thudded to the ground at the base of Bear's tree, it's rack almost cracking as the full force of its weight hit the earth. It was a beautiful work of nature, something the Great Spirit must have been proud to create. But this morning had been the first time in a week and a half that Bear had found the time to go out and hunt- the Feathers needed the meat and the buck had been a great prize indeed. Pulling the creature behind his tree, where no one would see the blood coming from it, Bear took out his knife and began skinning and gutting the animal, letting the blood wash over his hands as he thanked the Great spirit for his gift. Bear's low, rough voice carried slightly through the light air, the Cheyenne words almost mystical in the golden light of the morning.