[Open] Traveling Notes

[Willow Frostorb]

Willow Frostorb

The leaves rustled with the breeze, whispering to anyone who would listen. With careful ease, the silver otter brushed past the foliage, the branches of the bushes bending as she passed. Her black tipped ears pulled forward, then pressed back, catching all sounds. A twig snapped underpaw, and she couldn't help but jump.

The forest seemed calm enough, why was she so wound up? Her frosty eyes flicked skyward, to the dawn sunlight filtering through the trees, then down to the floor where the leaf-dapple print along the soil stood out like ink on parchment. Willow loosened the neck of the cloak around her throat until it hanged loosely around her shoulders. She took a few steps further, watching.

Something cracked to her left, and her paw flew to the knife at her belt, grasping the pommel. Her eyes narrowed, and fell on a songbird perched on the branches. They stared at each other for a moment, Willow growling low in her throat, and the feathery creature disappeared.

Stupid bird, the river otter thought. She hated them, probably always would. That wasn't really her fault, was it? Captivity with a murder of crows for two moons wasn't anything a beast could get over fast. Shivering slightly, she let her paws drop back along her side. What was wrong with her? She was in a new land, new adventures.

Then why do I feel so sad?Willow wondered. Maybe because the bird's black eyes reminded her of her brother, her sibling far behind in the North lands. Sighing, she kept moving, listening. If something came along, she would hear it first. Definitely. The otter picked up her pace, lute thumping slightly against her back as she moved, sometimes dropped on all fours to duck below the bushes. As she moved, she hummed, the notes traveling on the wind and to the ears of anybeast within a few yards radius.

[→{n.orthie}♥]

it was her hum that attracted his attention. A hum meant travelers; travelers meant special... shiny possessions; and special and shiny possessions meant time for some thieving. Rhor was half-dozing in a hollow he found in a tree. He usually slept with his senses and one eye open, just in case anybeast decided to do to him what only he thought he could do: sneak up and steal or kill. And today, his senses picked up the notes of a female voice.

rhor sighed and began to prune his feathers casually like he always did whenever he woke. It may just be him, but the underside of his wings were always messy. The fat robin hitched his pouch over his shoulder and across his chest and took off out of the hollow, his small wings pumping furiously to hold his weight in the air. This was the life of Rhor the robin. He enjoyed stealing and pitching from otherbeasts, but it seemed like a lonely life. But Rhor stubbornly dismisses the subject and insists that he's living his dream... that is... if you don't get a pecked eye or muzzle when you start the topic. Anyway, it was a sunny dawn. A playful breeze strung out, rustling the leaves and swaying the treetops with their gentle buffets. It was calm and peaceful, a perfect day for an adventurous traveler to do some exploring and such. The shimmering sun set the earth with a bright glow, and made a pattern of speckled shadows upon the forest floor.

the robin veered toward the source of the sound, which wasn't far off. She was just strolling through by a tree not far from the one he was dozing on. It was an otter with a silver coat. Rhor perched upon a long, thin branch and watched the otter careful. It was, of course, a female otter with a shiny gray pelt. The robin had to admit, he saw some pretty charm in the other beast, as he did in most maidens. But he was captured at the sight of the carved jade the otter had attached to a leather thong around her neck and the piece of obsidian in the pommel of her dirk. Rhor eyed the lute she had strapped to her back. It was a handsome piece of wood, but perhaps too big for him to snatch and carry. But the jade and steel dirk was good enough for him. But while he was busy selecting his choice of items, he did not consider that the otter, Willow would notice him, take it that she's keen and alert as she is.

- - - - - - - - - -

status , finished.
tagged , willow.
words , 438.
muse , okayy.
notes , er, i hope it's okay if i jump in. i can't help but luff your charrie. -puppydogeyes- 83

xoxo,
northie

[Willow Frostorb]

Willow Frostorb

She took a few more steps, dropping on all fours to duck under the low sweeping branches of a silver birch. The leaves brushed against her back, a single twig snagging on her cloak. Shaking herself free, she paused beside a small creek, and looked downstream, tilted her head from one side to the other. Distant, there was the soft roar of a harsher body of water.

The river, she thought, looking back to the treetops. Something moved to her left, and she stiffened, her whiskers twitching. Another bird. She started to wonder if they were following her, but then the ottermaid dismissed it as her being paranoid. Just because a bunch of crows kept slaves didn't mean all birds were bad...But lately, the ottermaid hadn't found anything to prove her theory wrong. In a way, she would like to be proved wrong, but for the moment, her opinion stayed strong. Birds were awful, wicked creatures, with ill intentions. It would take a real gentlemen of a bird to change her mind.

Huffing, she unhooked the belt at her shoulder and set the lute on the grass. Then, she slid out of her dark violet cloak and took careful care to fold it, setting it out of reach of the water on a rock. The ottermaid glanced up at the trees, fiddling with her jade pendant. Again, something was moving among the trees, hopping. A bird. Why me? she thought desperately. The feathery creature was staring at her, as if waiting for something, and she resisted the urge to stick out her tongue and turned away.

If he wants something, he can ask, Willow thought, stubbornly ignoring him. True to her race, she was unable to resist any kind of water, no matter what the weather. The water was cold to the touch, refreshing and clear. A tiny crayfish skittered backwards and under a rock, as if being under a pebble would make it invisible. Hadn't there been a song about crayfish? The bard tried to recall it, another breeze ruffled her fur and almost warm compared to the water. Winter wasn't her favorite season, everything(including the water) was too cold. She was amazed to find any life at all in the stream. Pretending to fetch something from the pocket of her cloak while standing ankle deep in the creek, she snuck a glance back at the trees. Yep, he was still there.

Nonchalantly, the silver ottermaid began to hum an old song, taking off her weapon and herb belt before tying it to a stone. She was wary of all thieves, and the prescence of a nasty little songbird didn't relax her at all. The dirk sheath clicked against a rock, and hoping she wouldn't need the knife anytime soon, left the weapon on the bank with her lute. Willow was resisting the urge to sing. She was, afterall, a bard, and her kind lived for audiences, no matter how small or vile.


--status; finished.
--muse; dead.
--notes; Perfectly fine, this should be entertaining. ^^ And thanks. <3

[→{n.orthie}♥]

she knew he was there. Rhor saw her body stiffen and her whiskers tweaked. So much for a surprise. Darn, how he hated it when other beasts had a sharper sense than him. It was usually rare, since he usually flew to attack, and the ones he chose to steal from are the helpless and weak. He didn't plan on giving away his presence before he got his chance to strike; it was usually after he did, and when Rhor decided to rub and show off his prize. But this one was a keen one, and how it annoyed him that it was so.

he could tell that Willow was alert for him. Rhor could see that the ottermaid glanced up at him; his keen eyes picked that out. Rhor was enjoying himself. Causing distress was one of his favorite hobbies, if a good old surprise attack didn't actually work. Rhor wasn't surprised that Willow decided to take a dip in the creek. All otters were like that; none could resist a little bath in water. The robin snorted. No waterdogs could resist a little bath... even in frosty cold water. He never understood him. Rhor never liked water in the first place, anyway.

rhor watched as the ottermaid tied her belt to a stab of rock as she stood in the creek, the water reaching up to her ankles. He heard the sound of her dirk, in its sheath, clack against a rock. And it seemed to the chubby robin that Willow was still very alert. This was stupid. Just watching this waterdog take a dip wasn't getting him anywhere. And besides, this otter had a dangerously sharp knife, and if he wasn't fast enough, this will be his last dawn, perhaps. Rhor sighed in frustration. And even more annoying, Willow was ignoring him. Rhor personally preferred that beasts take their time to try to kill him or something. It gave him more fun to lead those certain fools on a wild goose chase.

the robin launched forth from his perched and landed a good feet feet away from the bank. He preformed a hop-skip to regain his balance, lost it, and tumbled closer to the water. The robin jerked upright and hopped back a few paces. Willow would have obviously noticed him. Rhor straightened the hat wedged upon the crown of his head and smiled deviously at the ottermaid. "Fine mornin' ter ye, miss!" he called, fixing the strap across his chest, "My, ain't ye a pretties beast with such a pretties, handsomer sword."

- - - - - - - - - -

status , finished.
tagged , willow.
words , 423.
muse , mind as well be dead too.
notes , thank you, thank you, Willow. <3 -glomp- and, yush it will... if i manage well. D'x<

xoxo,
northie

[Willow Frostorb]

Willow Frostorb

The ottermaid had dropped into a crouch, having half-forgotten the bird in her desperation to ignore him. She took a swipe at a crayfish, snagged it between two claws, then let it drop back into the water. Easily amused but not hungry, she had no reason to kill the thing. But elsewhere...

A leaf rustled slightly and she looked up to see the robin hopping towards her, a hat set on his head. He spoke brightly, as if she hadn't caught him about to steal from her, which she was certain that is what he was up to. As the robin drew closer to her knife than she was, she smiled faintly at him and did the same, until she at the bank. Watching him warily, she sat down on the bank and kicked at the water with her paws, trying to look at ease.

" Thank you, " she said stiffly. Being polite to birds didn't come easy to her. Maybe he'd realize that and back off. Willow reached for her knife and pulled it from the scabbard, casually, and took a small piece of cloth from the bag under her lute. Dipping the rag into the creek water, she then ran it over the dirk. " Tis called a dirk. My brother made it. "

She bit her lip for a beat, looking skyward and wishing he'd go away. What did he want? Was it possible the feathered rat was just being friendly? By the gleam in his eye, she doubted it. Willow continued to clean the already shining dirk blade, frosty blue eyes cast down. Finally, she looked back up at him.

" Is a fine day, aye? What might a bird such as yourself be doing round here? You live here, bird? " she asked. Hardly the way to discourage further conversation, she thought, frowning inwardly. Maybe if she growled and put on a show he'd fly away. Maybe not. Besides, she didn't want to make an enemy in a wood she barely knew.

[→{n.orthie}♥]

it was a surge of instinct that made Rhor hop backwards another two paces when Willow replied. "Thank you," the otter had said with difficulty. The robin watched carefully as Willow reached out for weapon and slid it out of its sheath. She then produced a piece of cloth, drenched it slightly in the water, and began to clean the already-spotless dagger. The ottermaid then spoke again. "Tis called a dirk. My brother made it." Rhor emitted a deep rumble from his throat, bored, rudely making sure Willow saw his disinterest. He already knew what it was. Did this waterdog thought he was stupid? And, furthermore, he didn't really care.

willow casted her gaze upward before moving it quickly down to her blade, continuing to clean it. Rhor, meanwhile, was busy staring at the jade pendant around her neck. The green stone sparkled luxuriously in the sunlight, reflecting in his beady eyes, which gleamed with greed. When Willow looked back at him, the robin looked away. "Is a fine day, aye? What might a bird such as yourself be doing round here? You live here, bird?" the ottermaid asked. The fat robin fixed his hat up just a bit and mumbled his first sentence to himself before responding, "Karaak. Is it dat hard to asks one questions at one time? Huh. Fine, fine days, aye it is. Too fine, me says... Heehe. Wharra me's doin' arounds here? Wells, miss, dat's me own business, aye? An' yesh, yesh. Me lives here, 'o course."

the robin narrowed his eyes. Newcomer, eh? All beasts of this area knew him. They were victims and beasts who got the warning. Anybeast who didn't know of him, that lived in this stretch of land, is pretty darn clueless; in other words, they didn't know of the bandit that was stealing under their noses. But it didn't matter, he supposed. He won't act any less rude and mean to this creature. And, it'll be fun for him to annoy a newcomer around these parts. But Rhor couldn't help but keep veering his gaze to the jade she wore. His personal greed and wanting was tearing at him badly. He only hoped that Willow didn't see; as a thief, it was instinct, but there was no reason about it. This ottermaid was as alert and careful as ever, so it seemed.

- - - - - - - - - -

status , finished.
tagged , willow.
words , 391.
muse , RIP. Dx
notes , -cries- so horrible. )''x

xoxo,
northie

[Willow Frostorb]

Willow Frostorb

His expression and sounds were not only annoying, they were rude. So apparently this is not the one who will change my theories on birds, Willow thought angrily, standing up and sliding the dirk back in it's sheath, then slipping the belt around her waist to hook it together. The waterdog thought about telling him to jump in the river, but kept her tongue. She was a bard, and bards have charisma.

" I assumed a handsome bird such as yourself had the comprehension to go with your looks, " Willow said sweetly. If he had any brains at all, he'd find the insult in the compliment. She hadn't hidden it very well, but it would probably take him a bit. While the robin figured that out, the ottermaid picked up her cloak and pulled it around her shoulders to shield her from the frost-bitten air.

Fastening the cloak's silver clasp at her throat, covering the jade amulet, Willow looked back at the bird to see his reaction, one paw at her hip. He looked like the kind of creature who wouldn't find it as funny as some others would when he discovered she'd insulted him. If he did. Willow currently had the impression that most did about vermin; birds were rude, vile idiots.

The wind was beginning to pick up, and without looking skyward, she tried to judge the weather. Her frosty eyes kept fixed on the robin's face. He really was a handsome creature. If he wasn't a dirty, rotten little creep, she'd have liked his company. Willow wondered what happened to some beasts to make them good, and to others to make them bad. Vermin were understandable. They were raised to be cruel. But birds, like this robin, and the crows? Why happened to them to blacken their hearts?

status; finished.
muse; utterly dead.
notes; (to self) stop joining so many roleplay sites that kill my muse.

[→{n.orthie}♥]

it was obvious that Rhor enjoyed compliments and praises. "I assumed a handsome bird such as yourself had the comprehension to go with your looks," the ottermaid sweetly said. The robin vaguely assumed her was a singer or performer, or anything of the sort; he had to admit, the other creature had a fine voice and tone. But his attention wasn't really on that. The vain, cocky bird curved his beak into a boastful, cheeky grin, too conceited to think deeper into what Willow had actually said. "Heehe! Yesh, yesh! Thankees, thankees, waterdog. I am handsomer bi—"

the robin immediately flew to attention, detecting the insult in her praise. His eyes flamed, and his feathers ruffled angrily. Being the egotistic creature that he is, Rhor took personal offense in any form of insult that was thrown at him. His main mission far forgotten, Rhor hopped forth a pace, eyes blazing with aggression and hate. Willow had donned her cloak, veiling the jade pendent. "Karaak! Nowza ye lissen 'er, ye insultin', heartless riverwhomper! Ye streamloaf, diphead, wadwimp, bumpin yew! Snarkhead, dorkclok, cornthimbleknuckle!" Rhor was off again, into his phase of spitting forth streams of insults that he made at the top of his head. Busy with his uncivilized tongue, the robin veered off subject and continued to screech at Willow with an ear-splitting, unpleasant tone.

- - - - - - - - - -

status , doneee.
tagged , willow.
words , 223.
muse , RIP... again.
notes , xD i did that once. i was joining one board after another. i went dead and muse-less on more than half of 'em. lol. | blak! teh dreaded shortness and crappiness. 3x

xoxo,
northie

[Willow Frostorb]

Willow Frostorb

Vain little beast, Willow thought with a satisfactory smirk. He took the compliment in stride, and as she'd thought, it took him nearly half a minute to find the insult in her words. The robin was beaming one moment, and then she saw the dawn in his face.

"Karaak! Nowza ye lissen 'er, ye insultin', heartless riverwhomper! Ye streamloaf, diphead, wadwimp, bumpin yew! Snarkhead, dorkclok, cornthimbleknuckle!"

The entire time he was hopping in place, then hopping closer. He was furious, but his words made it hard for her not to laugh. The robin just looked...well, he looked ridiculous. Fuming, but hilarious. After awhile though, his rants got tiresome. Swallowing her laughter, Willow took a step towards him, drawing her dirk as she went. He was annoying.

" Now look. You're a handsome, clever creature, " she said seriously. She meant every word of it, this time. " I'd hate to have to scuff up that pretty face of yours. So unless you're going to be a decent, normal beast, I'd haul tailfeather, bird. I know exactly why you're here, and I will not put up with it. "

Satsified she'd gotten across her point, Willow narrowed her eyes, knife held out with the point towards his beak, and waited for him to make up his mind. He could continue to be a foul-mouthed little brat, or he could be a decent beast, or he could fly away and go find someone else to bother. The ottermaid hoped for the latter. But with her luck, it probably wouldn't happen.

note; I have....Avaren, here, my site, Firefox University, Obliva Guilds, and two petsites I work at....

[→{n.orthie}♥]

rhor grew even angrier. Willow was laughing. Rhor pondered a bit about what she may be laughing at, but it didn't matter. Nobeast laughed at Rhor and got away with it. And, purposely, Rhor was slowly hopping toward the ottermaid. She was laughing at first, but he could see that she was getting annoyed. "Now look. You're a handsome, clever creature," the ottermaid said, sounding so serious that Rhor was forced to stop hopping and listen. "I'd hate to have to scuff up that pretty face of yours. So unless you're going to be a decent, normal beast, I'd haul tailfeather, bird. I know exactly why you're here, and I will not put up with it."

she held her knife out, its point almost grazing his beat. Rhor felt a twinge of nervousness in his tailfeathers. It was unusual for a maiden to stand him up. With a snort, Rhor backed slowly off, alert to any quick moves the oh-so-clever waterdog. "Kaak! Fine, ye heartless ruddertail. I leave. Gudd da—no, no. Badder day tew ye!" The robin hopped back a fair distance. He put his wings into a beat and fluttered off into the treetops, cursing and muttering to himself in his annoyingly shrill voice.

- - - - - - - - - -

status , finishedd.
tagged , willow.
words , 206.
muse , still dead as evaa.
notes , ooh. that's alot. i'm part of many sites... but on most, i've practically died from muse. x.x

xoxo,
northie