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Post by Kenyon on Oct 25, 2011 0:57:52 GMT -5
“PEACEFUL??”
The voice echoed along stone halls as the owner descended the stairs. A beast hurried after her, to who she directed her barrage. “PEACEFUL? YOU LIVE IN A BLOODY FORTRESS AND YOU’RE… PEACEFUL!!”
Tampa emerged into the great hall, tearing off the green habit and pulling her own rags back over her head. She moved remarkably fast for one in her state of health, throwing the habit back in the face of the beast who followed her. A growl grew low in her throat as she strode across the stone floor, ignoring the stares of other beasts in the room. Reaching the door, she lay a paw on the handle before spinning and pointing it at the poor beast.
“Well, if you’re peaceful, where can I go for real help?”
”S-s-salamandastron.”
The warm autumn sun shone brightly down on the ottermaid as she made her escape from the abbey. She carried food in a pack on her back and strode out with a purpose.
”Hurry up!” She hissed, beckoning impatiently at the other otter. “Haven’t the time, Damon! Move, seasons take you!”
She slid into the water, the cold seeping into her fur, a reminder that she wasn’t like most otters. A reminder of the last nineteen years of her life, of the slavery and ill-kept life of a slave. No proper otter could feel the cold of water on their skin, their thick fur protected them. Nose above the water, she took a deep breath and allowed herself to sink. No diving, the splashing could attract unwanted attention. This was a method of escape that could only work once, and all it would do is get them beyond the walls.
Underwater, she opened her eyes and struck out, silently moving towards the dark tunnel, trusting that Damon had followed her.
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Warhound
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Rise of the Warhound
Posts: 27
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Post by Warhound on Oct 25, 2011 1:28:54 GMT -5
~FLASHBACK~ ”I'm gonna make you drown in a puddle of your own blood, rat.”Ah, new recruits – always so easy to terrorize, weren't they? With his wrists shackled up by his head to the wall of King Obsidius Bane's Dungeon #3, hissing death threats was the haggard, emaciated looking otter's only form of entertainment. The best part about it, however, was that it worked. Glaring holes into the rat guard's eyes, Damon leered at him, lips wet with his own blood. The rat struggled to keep calm. ”Shore ye will, wavedog –, yew can't be makin' no beast bleed, wot wiv yew bein' shackled to yon wall.””Why don't you come over here 'n we can test yer theory, aye mate? I wanna see if I can tear yore throat out in one bite – or two.”With the sea otter's fierce, savage eyes glittering back at him from the dark, the rat guard wasn't going to take his chances. Backing away nervously, the rat exited the dungeons – having checked on the otter's condition for the day – making a bee-line up the stairs where there was proper sunlight and no crazy, blood-thirsty otters threatening to tear him to bits. Now alone, the otter growled, shutting his dark red eyes in the dank, moist gloom that was his prison, letting his head fall back with a thunk against the sturdy stone wall. Damn it. The bloodied, angry, worn out otter did not regret his previous actions at all – that stupid ferret had gotten what was coming to him – the only thing he didn't like, however, was how much these shackles made his arms ache. Even if he'd been in them a thousand times, these exact same shackles, he never ever got used to the feeling. In defiance, however, Damon gave them a furious shake, twisting and writhing with all the strength he could muster in vain hopes of possibly freeing himself – face scrunching up in pain as his bloodied back scraped against stone. Clunk!Eyes snapping open, the sea otter stared in disbelief as he was able to lower both of his arms – 19 years of almost constant use thanks to Damon's defiance had finally paid off. The rusty shackles had broken, the chain on each shackle connecting it to the wall had become so rusty, his movements had literally been the final straw. Was it here at last? The moment he'd been waiting for literally his entire life? Was freedom close at hand?With adrenaline welling up inside of him, the otter staggered up the stairs the dungeons (It was the main door that was locked, the dungeons themselves did not have singular cells), a murderous intent welling up in his eyes as he noticed the rat guard pace back and forth through the keyhole. Was it unlocked? Sweet Fortunes Above, it was! Using the element of surprise and adrenaline induced strength, Damon pushed open the door and grabbed the rat guard. Teeth flashing in the darkness, it was time to make good on his promise earlier. ~*~ ”Hurry up!” She hissed, beckoning impatiently at the other otter. “Haven’t the time, Damon! Move, seasons take you!”The urgent words of his cousin Tampa stirred Damon from his position, the sea otter, out of breath and still bloody from a mixture of fresh wounds and an encounter with that rat guard, was quick to slip in after her. The tunnel's murky water wasn't doing wonders for his injuries, but when was he ever a beast to complain? In spite of this, the water felt absolutely wonderful, even if it was very cold, it was doing well to wake up his senses, add strength to his limbs with the prospect of real, actual freedom some close at hand. Damon slowly turned onto his back so he could look up at the sunshine coming in through the water's surface once they had swam out of the tunnel – but a strange shape soon clouded his line of sight, instinct the only thing that saved both their skins. ”MOVE!” He yelled, though his words came out a mass of bubbles, water filling his mouth instantly, his scarred paws against his cousin's back as he roughly shoved her further in front of him. The arrow missed her by inches, but managed to dig itself right into Damon's shoulder. With blood leaking into the water and welling up in his eyes, the sea-otter grabbed Tampa by the arm and shot off like a shark, hoping to the gods above that this stream lead somewhere safe. ((Kinda rushed a bit. xD Didn't want to drag on too much with Damon getting free.))
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Post by Kenyon on Oct 25, 2011 15:51:16 GMT -5
The ottermaid ate lunch on the march, tearing through a loaf of bread as she walked. She wasn’t barely conscious, with no idea where she was going. She had a direction and a name. Salamandastron.
“Salamandastron.” She tested the word out, bread crumbs spraying from her mouth. A true fortress, perhaps where she could get an army. She frowned, swallowing the last of the loaf. What about Damon? She didn’t know where he was or if he survived. That was also a worry that ate at her.
Arrows rained down as they fled along the stream. Tam arrowed through the water mainly on instinct, she had swum little in her life. She had tried to turn in fight, but Damon swept her along with him, refusing to let her turn back. The stream was getting wider and shallower, making it impossible to swim. She sloshed to a standing position, snarling at their pursuers. Her paws searched for a weapon, anything she could find.
“Watch it!” She threw herself into Damon, knocking both of them aside as arrows hissed into the shallow water. Tampa scrambled back to her feet, pulling her cousin with her as she started to run. She didn’t want to leave the fight— but she didn’t want to die either.
“Damon!”
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Warhound
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Rise of the Warhound
Posts: 27
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Post by Warhound on Oct 25, 2011 18:20:34 GMT -5
~FLASHBACK~ "Damon!"Damn it! Slave Hunters already? Or was it just a few members of the rat king's forces? Hissing out in pain, Damon snapped the arrow off at the head, leaving the rest of it embedded in his shoulder as he and Tampa struggled to escape their pursuers. With the pair barely conscious of where they were going, Damon was suddenly aware of a weird 'crunch' noise followed by a numbing sensation whenever he would set his paw down -- was that frost? Just how long had he been in the dungeons? Outpacing Tampa a little, the older sea otter's blood had reached a boiling point -- the edges of his vision starting to tinge a little with red -- but he wasn't as afraid as he should be. Whatever happened right now, Damon wasn't going to back to rot in the dungeons, but he wouldn't be dying here either -- not before he killed that scumbag Obsidius Bane. "This way Tam!" Sliding to a stop on the slick, frost-covered earth, Damon changed directions, moving away from what sounded like six or seven guards headed straight for them. They kept going until they reached a small gully, Damon's hopes heightening upon sighting a little stream at the bottom of it -- hopefully that stream led to a river, which led them out to sea -- or better yet, to a place of sanctuary? Damon snarled out in pain when his foot got caught under a protruding root, sending him head first down the gully and into the little stream with a painful sounding splash. Growling, the sea otter scrambled onto his feet -- glancing up to see Tampa still at the top of the gully -- when he smacked into one of King Bane's returning foraging parties. Their surprise was mutual, the 5 or so guards staring at him in stunned silence for a few precious seconds -- before Damon attacked with a wrathful howl. "TAMPA RUN! I'll hold them off!"This time there was no halting the blood that welled up in his eyes, the Warhound trying to ensure the safety of his last remaining kinbeast before he was completely overcome by the red mist. Once he lost control of his senses, there was no telling what would happen to them then.
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Post by Kenyon on Oct 25, 2011 22:21:05 GMT -5
Frost crunched underfoot as she took a quick turn, spinning on the ball of her footpaw and getting separated from Damon. How had they found them so fast? Tam darted into the mouth of the gully, grunting as an arrow grazed her shoulder. She cast around for Damon, not seeing him immediately. Season’s bane, it was that rat guard! The one Damon had killed… they must have found his body.
"TAMPA RUN! I'll hold them off!"
“Like bloody ---- I will!” She snarled back, struggling to reach Damon. Where were all these guards coming from? She lost sight of Damon as she tried to outrun them, although she could hear his howling as he attacked. Faced with a stream, she cursed and turned back, ready to turn on her followers.
thud! a slingstone struck straight between her eyes and she fell backwards into the stream.
Tampa was without food, and completely unaware of how to forage for any. She was a slave, not a tracker or a woodsbeast. She'd thrown away the empty sack four days ago, and now sat on a sand dune, looking into the distance. Was that pointy thing in the distance the mountain? She frowned, kicking at sand as her stomach rumbled. That was the drawback, it had gotten used to food, and was now complaining about the lack where before it had long given up.
Where was Damon? Was he alive?
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Romulus
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The most weighted word has only two letters
Posts: 122
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Post by Romulus on Oct 25, 2011 22:53:59 GMT -5
Well, now, this was a fine how'd'ye'do. . .
Cordin Fuzthrite Liztine Harlington Dorchester balanced atop a pile of boulders, practicing his boxing techniques in the rough terrain. His footpaws bare save for a few bandages, and his forepaws wrapped in their typical black twine, the corporal hopped, leaped, and rolled across the rocks, wincing with the sharp scrapes he received. He should have kept his uniform instead of switching to a simple sleeveless shirt and breeches. But there was naught to be done about it, now.
Besides, something diverted his attention from his boxing. In the distance, he could see a figure moving closer. He couldn't rightly tell who or even what the creature was. Hmm, he couldn't just leave a poor beast to perish under the autumn sun, could he? Hopping off the rocks, the scarred hare galloped towards the figure, stopping when he was close enough to tell that the creature was an otter.
Cupping his sinewy paws around his mouth, he called out, "Halloo there!"
((I don't think you gave me much to work with, Grath. But here's all I could come up with. XD))
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Post by Kenyon on Oct 26, 2011 21:26:06 GMT -5
((I know, I’m sorry.))
Eventually Tampa sighed, standing, she set her sights on the sharp-pointy-thing in the distance and started walking. If it wasn’t this fortress place the Redwallers told her of, she was out of luck. She didn’t know where Damon was or even if he was alive— his snarls as he fought their pursuers echoed in her head. It was the last thing she remembered. The only thing she knew to do was to find help.
She wasn’t too keen on searching out strangers for the task, but it wasn’t as if the Northlands had been doing too swell of a job themselves. As she topped a dune, puffing with exertion, she certainly wasn’t used to travel in the deep sand, she saw a hare approaching.
"Halloo there!"
“What d’ye want?” She growled in her northern accent, glaring at the cheery, well-fed hare.
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Romulus
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The most weighted word has only two letters
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Post by Romulus on Oct 28, 2011 20:38:51 GMT -5
“What d’ye want?”
Oh, what was there to be so grumpy about? Cordin grinned, paws on his hips. Dropping one ear to half mast, the hare studied the haggard otter once, golden gaze missing nothing. Heavens above, this poor girl looked like she'd been chewed up and spit back out by the hounds of Hell themselves.
"Want, Miss?" he repeated, dropping his other ear. He shook his head. "Nay, it's jolly well not wot I want, but what ye need that's flippin' got me focus right now. I don't s'pose ye'd mind bringin' yore bloody self and yore sunshiney attitude inside ol' Sali, would ye?"
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Post by Kenyon on Oct 29, 2011 22:58:32 GMT -5
"Want, Miss?" he repeated, dropping his other ear. He shook his head. "Nay, it's jolly well not wot I want, but what ye need that's flippin' got me focus right now. I don't s'pose ye'd mind bringin' yore bloody self and yore sunshiney attitude inside ol' Sali, would ye?"
Tampa walked down the dune, eying the hare with suspicion now. She stopped just short enough to be out of easy reach, eyes narrowed unpleasantly as she watched him grin. It grated on her and she found herself baring her teeth, lips pulling back just slightly enough to show clenched teeth as her nose flared and sucked in air. She wanted to sit down and gain her breath from all that walking and climbing in deep sand, but knew better than to show weakness. Even the slight appearance of it left one at a disadvantage, leaving them vulnerable to attack.
“What d’ye want, hare.” She demanded again, opening and clenching her fists. He was so bloody cheery. It wasn’t natural..
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Romulus
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The most weighted word has only two letters
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Post by Romulus on Oct 29, 2011 23:08:00 GMT -5
What d’ye want, hare.” She demanded again, opening and clenching her fists.
Cordin scoffed, perking his ears back up. Fine, we'll do it her way. He offered a paw in a non-threatening manner. "I want ye t'bloody well come in and flippin' get fixed up, Missy," he clarified. "Not every bloomin' day we find an otter at our blinkin' door, wot?"
Who'd ruffled her feathers, he wondered. Well, quite a nasty bugger, by the looks of her. He didn't know what she'd been through, but perhaps she had a slight excuse to be so grumpy. Bolly cads! Ruining a perfectly good otter's mood. He hoped some time in the sick bay and some of Roseleaf's care would soften the maid's demeanor.
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Post by Kenyon on Oct 30, 2011 1:56:13 GMT -5
"I want ye t'bloody well come in and flippin' get fixed up, Missy," he clarified. "Not every bloomin' day we find an otter at our blinkin' door, wot?"
“I don’t need to be fixed.” Tampa insisted stubbornly, raising her chin. She edged sideways, avoiding the hare’s outstretched paw. Yeah, like she was going anywhere near this stranger. He was too cheerful. Cheerfulness could not be trusted. It often hid falsehoods and nasty tricks, she’d learned that one early.
“Leave me alone, rabbit.” She growled, stalking past him at a good distance, her gaze on the not-so-far-anymore sharp-pointy-mountain-thing. The sooner she got there, the sooner she shook this annoying rabbit and the sooner she found Damon the better…
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Romulus
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Post by Romulus on Nov 1, 2011 11:09:50 GMT -5
“I don’t need to be fixed.” Tampa insisted stubbornly, raising her chin.
Cordin smirked, watching as she stormed past him. Spinning around, he followed the otter. "Aye, and I don't need t'bloody breathe," he replied, clasping his paws behind his back. Obstinate piece of tail, wasn't she?
“Leave me alone, rabbit.”
Cordin chuckled. "Me name's Cordin," he offered. "Not rabbit, wot? And are ye jolly well shore ye ain't headed for Salamandastron? 'Tis right up ahead, doncha know? Ye seem t'be bloomin' well draggin' yoreself in that direction."
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Post by Kenyon on Nov 2, 2011 0:38:11 GMT -5
Cordin chuckled. "Me name's Cordin," he offered. "Not rabbit, wot? And are ye jolly well shore ye ain't headed for Salamandastron? 'Tis right up ahead, doncha know? Ye seem t'be bloomin' well draggin' yoreself in that direction."
“Iff’n Ah am, ‘tis none o’ yore bisnes, rabbit.” She marched on, dragging her paws through the sand as the mountain neared. Salamandastron, huh? As she drew closer, she began to see that it more than deserved the name she had first heard at that stupid red walls place. A fortress! Filled with peace-dwelling ninnies. How in seasons she had ended up in that place was a mystery to her. In fact, up until the point in which she found herself at that small gate, things were pretty blurry. She didn’t think she had walked that far from the river… was she in a river? There was a stream where they had escaped….
"This way Tam!"
She spun and sprinted towards the gully, her feet pounding the ground painfully. She could hear the sounds of pursuit already. If only they could get far enough ahead, if only they could find one of the rivers around here, if they could get in the water they could get away…
She jerked to a stop, dread pooling in her stomach as Damon went tumbling and the soldiers came around the turn in the gully. She stood frozen as Damon stumbled to his feet, looking up at her before he staggered into a rat. They were equally surprised. Only Tam, standing above them, wasn’t, but she was frozen as Damon roared and attacked them, unsure of her course of action.
"TAMPA RUN! I'll hold them off!"
An arrow broke her from her reverie; she bolted the other way, a fast turn the only thing saving her from a spear. Where was Damon? She couldn’t leave him!
“Like bloody hell I will!”
She was shaking when she realized she had fallen in front of the gates, tears coursing down her face and sobs racking her skinny frame. She stood, shaking, clutching herself as she staggered through the gates. Was he dead? He had fought and she had run, run like a coward. How could she, he was her only family, left alone, deserted in a ditch, surrounded by the enemy. Left to die alone.
She opened her eyes, burning hot with revenge’s fire, and walked through the gate.
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Cross
Member
Begone! And never darken my towels again!
Posts: 332
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Post by Cross on Nov 2, 2011 1:18:49 GMT -5
“Iff’n Ah am, ‘tis none o’ yore bisnes, rabbit.”
Cordin shrugged and continued to follow. He wanted to go inside anyway and get a drink. He'd been outside for a long time. How long? Ah, he'd lost track of time. And anyway, he should see about hauling the ottermaid up to the infirmary pretty soon here.
Suddenly, she had collapsed to her knees, crying her eyes out at the gates. Cordin was shocked. After all that tough talk, she broke down as soon as she arrived? Well, he didn't blame her. He'd probably be in a much sorrier emotional state if his physical condition was that bad. He made to help her up, but she stood, eyes ablaze, and entered the fortress.
"Can't ye bloomin' well wait a tick, Miss?" the hare urged, jogging after her. "I'd like t'get ye t'the bloody infirmary before ye collapse again." He placed a firm paw on her shoulder, hoping she wouldn't bite him or something, and directed her to the stairway that would lead them to the sick bay.
"Oh, Roseleaf is going to flippin' love this," he muttered darkly.
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Post by Kenyon on Nov 2, 2011 11:35:59 GMT -5
"Can't ye bloomin' well wait a tick, Miss?" the hare urged, jogging after her. "I'd like t'get ye t'the bloody infirmary before ye collapse again."
She tried to knock his paw away, growling hoarsely at him. Her shoulders tensed and she held herself stiffly as she flung a glance around the inside of the fortress. Picking a staircase at random, she headed up it. In the castle Bane had built for himself, the leader was upstairs, above his minions. Using this as a template, she headed higher.
"Oh, Roseleaf is going to flippin' love this,"
“Why are ye still here?” She snarled, stalking down a hallway. “Leave me ALONE, why in hellgates is that so hard to get through your season’s blasted skull??” Her fur stood on end as she glared at the hare who was so persistent, so cheerful, so blasted determined. Tampa’s paws clenched and she wanted nothing more than to attack this otter, use her claws, use her teeth, make sure he knew how much she detested him, beat and fight and kick and take out all her frustrations, get rid of the confusing emotions swirling in her belly, relieve her guilt by taking her paws and tightening them about his throat… She took two steps towards Cordin, paws rising and
“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE.” Roseleaf snapped, stepping out of the infirmary.
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Romulus
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The most weighted word has only two letters
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Post by Romulus on Nov 2, 2011 14:17:57 GMT -5
Cordin tensed, ready to retaliate if the otter really did attack him. He wouldn't try to harm her, considering her physical state. But he was ready to fend off a bite or two if it came to that. His paw still firmly on her arm, he all but dragged her towards the infirmary, ignoring the weird looks they received from hares they passed. The sick bay was just up ahead and--
“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE.”
"Ah, speak of the she-devil," the corporal remarked, though he was pretty sure he was already holding onto one. "Roseleaf, ye gem, this lovely maid showed up at our bolly front doors. She absolutely hates my guts, but d'ye think ye'd be able t'help me drag her into yore jolly ol' sick bay, wot?"
((Lemme know if you want me to add something, Grath.))
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Stryker
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Lightning Stryker
Fawn's Second Account. =)
Posts: 120
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Post by Stryker on Nov 4, 2011 0:03:59 GMT -5
"Roseleaf, ye gem, this lovely maid showed up at our bolly front doors. She absolutely hates my guts, but d'ye think ye'd be able t'help me drag her into yore jolly ol' sick bay, wot?"
That sounded faintly like...
Black immediately turned as though to walk the other way, his original path having been intended for Roseleaf (he simply wanted to inform her that Damon was now up to his ideal weight, and his wounds were healing up nicely), but the presence of a hare he didn't really like, coupled with an emaciated, ornry looking female otter, and suddenly Black felt like here was the worst possible place to be right now. But then he took a better look at the otter Cordin had a firm hold of, his gray eyes narrowing into sharp, steel-colored slits. Bad temperament, horrible health, death threats and not to mention biting. Oh Hell's Teeth, this she-otter was probably that Warhound oaf's sister. The resemblance physically wasn't really there, but they were so close in personality that Azryel was absolutely certain she was related to him in some way.
"For what it's worth, otter," said Black, moving to stand to the side and just behind Roseleaf like a malignant shadow of doom and gloom. "Striking an officer of the Long Patrol puts you on grounds for arrest. Now you can either straighten up, shut up and receive some medical treatment of your own free will, or we can arrest you, strap you down to a chair and force some food down your throat..." Azryel's paws slipped into the pockets of his trousers, gaunt features expressionless, tone mechanical and almost robotic -- somehow his ability to deliver a threat like it was a fact was more unsettling than him actually inflicting emotion into his voice to bring the same effect. "Then again, why should Roseleaf and someone like myself waste time saving an otter who doesn't want to be saved? If you aren't here to receive medical treatment, then why are you here?"
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Post by Kenyon on Nov 4, 2011 0:24:40 GMT -5
"Roseleaf, ye gem, this lovely maid showed up at our bolly front doors. She absolutely hates my guts, but d'ye think ye'd be able t'help me drag her into yore jolly ol' sick bay, wot?"
Roseleaf closed her eyes, rubbing at a spot between them where a headache was threatening. “Seasons, Cordin. Do you have something against peace? I’ve already got that ferret and the otter threatening to go at each other, why would I want to add this minx?”
"For what it's worth, otter," said Black, moving to stand to the side and just behind Roseleaf like a malignant shadow of doom and gloom. "Striking an officer of the Long Patrol puts you on grounds for arrest. Now you can either straighten up, shut up and receive some medical treatment of your own free will, or we can arrest you, strap you down to a chair and force some food down your throat..."
“Yah, go on an’ arrest me, rabbit, see ‘ow far that gets ye.” She was long past calling them hares, as she had out on the shore. No, Tampa was worn and torn and seeing red (figuratively). She bared her teeth at the new hare, shifting her attention from Cordin to Black, burning hatred and her tear-streaked fur lending a wildness to her visage.
"Then again, why should Roseleaf and someone like myself waste time saving an otter who doesn't want to be saved? If you aren't here to receive medical treatment, then why are you here?"
Tampa tried to yank out of Cordin’s grip, advancing a step towards Black and Roseleaf. “Ah’m here cuz this maggot brain dragged me here! Ah gotta talk t’who’s in charge around here, an’ that’s no ye, Ah reckon. Just leave me be!”
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Romulus
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The most weighted word has only two letters
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Post by Romulus on Nov 4, 2011 0:47:50 GMT -5
“Seasons, Cordin. Do you have something against peace? I’ve already got that ferret and the otter threatening to go at each other, why would I want to add this minx?”
"The idea . . ." Cordin muttered, trying to keep his grip on the ottermaid. "I got no bloody problem with peace, Miss. I figured bringin' the little ball o' fire to ye would be a better choice than leavin' 'er t'die out on the bolly sands, wot?" His smile dropped off the corporal's face for a moment as Black walked up.
"Oh, Lieutenant Black," he greeted. "Bloody lovely t'see ye again." He perked his ears up at the threat issued by the callous hare. It was hard to tell if Black really meant that or not . . . Knowing Black, though, it was probably about 50/50.
“Ah’m here cuz this maggot brain dragged me here! Ah gotta talk t’who’s in charge around here, an’ that’s no ye, Ah reckon. Just leave me be!”
"Hey, I didn't drag ye anywhere, otter," Cordin snapped, tightening his grip on the flailing beast. "If I recall correctly, ye were stormin' your way up t'the jolly ol' fortress yourself, wot?" He was hesitant to let her go, lest she charge Roseleaf and Black. "The only flippin' place I've brought ye is the bloody sick bay, the only place ye should be bloomin' well goin' at the moment."
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Stryker
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Lightning Stryker
Fawn's Second Account. =)
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Post by Stryker on Nov 7, 2011 17:42:31 GMT -5
Tampa tried to yank out of Cordin’s grip, advancing a step towards Black and Roseleaf. “Ah’m here cuz this maggot brain dragged me here! Ah gotta talk t’who’s in charge around here, an’ that’s no ye, Ah reckon. Just leave me be!”
"Oh how foolish of me." Azryel's icy mocking tone was not a pleasant sound to be heard, his glassy gray eyes gleaming with displeasure. "Excuse me while I step out of your way. You're clearly a very important creature who absolutely must be obeyed at all costs." The doctor made as though to approach the belligerent, angry otter, before a sudden 'BONK!' on the head sent him lurching forward a bit, his lip curling in a snarl, his eyes faintly hinting at surprise.
Damon Warhound grinned in a way that showed all of his teeth, his heavily scarred, bandaged body looking much better than it had since the first time he'd washed up on Salamandastron's coasts. "Here's your book back, you long-eared blackhearted scumbag. Why don't you go find some poor beast to harass, eh?"
It's safe to say that Damon and Azryel were not on good terms. In fact, they were probably on the worst of terms, if that was even possible.
It had to be her... He could tell by the bite in her voice and the colorful vocabulary -- but looking at her, really looking at her confirmed it. It was the otter he had grown up with, fought for, fought along side, and escaped that forsaken place with. Smacking the book he'd used to hit Black with into the front of the hare's chest, Damon bounded forward, his face breaking out into the first real grin in....years. "TAM! You're alive!"
Though he didn't look like the affectionate type, Damon could resist hugging his last remaining kinbeast, knocking Cordin aside with one good wave of his rudder, his grin bright against the darkness of his fur. "What happened after we got separated? Where ya been all this time, Tam? Hell's Teeth, I thought you were gone forever."
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