| Viewing Single Post From: The Kestrel's First Hunt | |
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| Tallulah Maris Skahr | Aug 30 2008, 01:16 PM |
West Tower Commander
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The young squirrelwife Hazelrose crouched in darkness, cradling her tiny babe close as raucous calls and sharp cries echoed above her head. The roots of the ancient oak tree surrounded her, keeping both earth and enemies at bay as vermin rampaged through her home above ground. How could the elders have trusted the fox? She shuddered as a creature screamed and choked its last breath above her head. Her husband Ashbow and his hunter-gatherers, Hazelrose herself and even the Dibbuns had disliked the ever-smiling bush-tailed charmer since he stepped foot in their small village. But they allowed him to stay, to smile and compliment and watch everything with those cold, cold golden eyes… ~***~ Xavier Sigurd Goldeneye, more commonly known as Captain Xavier Poisonclaws, was having a good day. He watched his crew indulgently as the mixed band of vermin cutthroats fought over the grog and tasty vittles looted from the squirrel settlement, brawling, snarling, and wrestling each other all over the deck. The squirrels had been quite enjoyable. Not as much of a challenge as the otter holt they had raided only three weeks ago, but then, those had been tested and tried warriors, suspicious and wary of any and all vermin. Compared to the holt, the village of peaceful tree-climbers (barely a third of which had even seen a fox before) was almost painfully easy to infiltrate. And their screams, as children were torn from parents, husband from wife…as Xavier ever so slowly played with them, watching with glee as he analyzed how far their bodies could stretch, how much blood they could lose without fainting, how long they would writhe in pain as his poison flowed through their veins, how far toward death he could tease them without giving them the pleasure of stepping through the gates of Dark Forest. Ah, the moans, the whimpers, the shrieks and cries, the horror and despair in the eyes of those few survivors pulled aside to slave at the Scorpionfish’s oars… Xavier swirled his vintage wine, admiring the way it shone within the cut crystal goblet, glinting red and thick as honey…thick and red as the blood that had streamed through the forest clearing in trickling rivers. Ah yes. The fox tilted his face toward the sun, ignoring the increasing shouts of his crew and the sudden snarls of Blackfang, his chief officer. Life was good for Captain Xavier Poisonclaws. ~***~ Hazelrose stood on the top of a rolling hill, letting little Juniper suck her paw as she stared blankly at the thin line of smoke rising from the trees before her. She steadfastly ignored the memories that threatened to overwhelm her; now was not the time for hysterics about what the fox had done to those poor squirrels… Juniper let go of her paw with a pop and yawned, curling peacefully into her chest. Hazelrose nuzzled his ears, then turned and trudged resolutely down the hill. A trail of bloody pawprints marked her survival as the young squirrel headed for the road, away from the blood-soaked clearing that was now a mass grave. |
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This otter smiles when plotting; therefore, she is always plotting, as she is always smiling. Beware the smiling otter. Tallulah Maris Skahr West Tower Commander  Click If You Dare… | |
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1:22 AM Nov 29
