Wolfie
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[blue]Toboe the Timid[/blue][P:NaN]
Get over here, Zuko. Being part of the group also means being part of group hugs. ~ Katara
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Post by Wolfie on May 9, 2011 22:08:39 GMT -5
In the heat of the sun, a young otter strained and struggled. He was working on pulling a large block of stone over to where a large fortress was being contructed. He forced himself not to wince or flinch as a whip cracked, snapping at his back and opening up a bleeding gash through his fur and young soft skin. He barely noticed the bloody footprints his trail left as his footpads split and also started bleeding. The sweat trailing down his skin from the mix of heat and hard work stung as it trailed into his wounds, causing a silent snarl to erupt as he bore his teeth at the pain, his right fang broken off.
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Silas
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Squirellking*~*Southsward[P:NaN]
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Post by Silas on Jul 4, 2011 8:28:49 GMT -5
A tall shape with the look of an older otter slid in to aid him amidst the shouting, cursing and general confusion of forced labor constructing a fortress. One brown eye winked knowingly at him as a gruff voice mumbled, "Take it easy, young 'un. 'S too hot today for onebeast to drag that thing along." He flicked an ear behind them to the boulder before old and worn paws seized the rope in their iron grip, pulling it along steadily. Heso the sea otter had been imprisoned all of two seasons, yet he kept a hard-edged, confident tone when he spoke. Usually, he would be angered at his captors, driving one of his kind to exhaustion, but ironically he was too overworked himself to make any point out of it, in the midday sun looming overhead like a watchful, fiery eye. That morning he had spent all day using his boatbuilding skills to create scaffolding, though it would appear he also would need to construct a part of the wall as well this afternoon. Straining against the rope, he glanced up towards their destination. Not much farther now...
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Wolfie
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[blue]Toboe the Timid[/blue][P:NaN]
Get over here, Zuko. Being part of the group also means being part of group hugs. ~ Katara
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Post by Wolfie on Jul 4, 2011 23:56:53 GMT -5
The young otter turned to look at the older quizically but silently for a moment before continuing hauling on the rope, grateful for the help and barking out a soft Thank you to the elder.
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Post by Hans Vermeer (Cole) on Jul 7, 2011 6:34:27 GMT -5
"Move ya bastard sons an' daughters of savage whores of the woodland! MOVE!" This time the whip stuck with more violent force, it's owner sounding far from pleased, unfortunately for those working at this particular time and area, they were all stuck with a short foreign fox named "Raklin." (Pronounced: Rack-Lin.... I hope. ) You see? Mr "Raklin" is the worst type of slaver, he was one of those losers who's mother had an embarrassing name for him and later in life when his tongue slips and the lower ranks of the entire horde found out about it, the torment and bullying never felt old to them and it never stopped. This fox got his real and humiliating name due to the fact his tail as a bit lighter instead of bloody red like the rest of his body (cope that with a mother who always wanted a little girl instead of a boy) earned him a most un-nefarious name. This wasteland excuse for the joining of sperm and egg is actually a creature known as "Rosetail" and Mr. Rosetail here is a short, skinny fox who is one of the more "dedicated" slave drivers in the horde. His reason for being so? He's a coward, too cowardly to stand up for himself and too cowardly to risk ratting any of them out to a superior, he copes with his constant verbal torment by keeping his silence until he "checks into" his job, where than he often violently takes it alllllll out on the slaves with that most unpleasent whip of his.... Today was a badder day than usual, something most slaves could not possibly imagine being possible! The horde soldiers must have actually had a brain splurt and managed to throw some particularly painful and somewhat clever insults onto the dog fox because his rage on them sure showed evidence of such a case being possible, crazy and unbelieavable as it sounds when it comes to the fact it this may have came from a bunch of mostly North Landish vermin who believe they grow stronger on the flesh of their victims This foxes' superiors are not the most pleased with this dog foxes' actions involving the work force before, but apperantly this time Raklin was SO MAD that he had temporarily or maybe even almost permanently forgotten about what they warned him about, unfortunately though, none of the soldiers nearby cared enough to stop him and simply may have even snickered at his antics and none of his superiors where around to come to the aid of the slaves...... Or maybe so. (OOC:I may bring Venrah in. Hope this post was a good one, it's been a while. ;D )
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Silas
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Post by Silas on Jul 7, 2011 17:31:17 GMT -5
('Twas a good solid post, that! ) The one-eyed otter grunted in reply, digging in his footpaws into the grassland beneath him, almost falling flat on his face after letting the rope slip through his paws a little. His pawpads were dry and sore, with blisters on each of them, the stinging sensation making him grip the rope even harder as he pulled it along with the younger otter. He breathed heavily in the humid midnoon air, and took a glance briefly at a fox who seemed to be yelling rather offendingly at them. "Huh," Heso huffed, mostly to himself, remarking to the young otter at his side, "Not much farther, kiddo. Jus' keep your head down."
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Wolfie
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[blue]Toboe the Timid[/blue][P:NaN]
Get over here, Zuko. Being part of the group also means being part of group hugs. ~ Katara
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Post by Wolfie on Jul 11, 2011 0:38:46 GMT -5
The young otter hissed, venting his pain and rage with that single exhalation of breath from his lungs. He dug his sore, bleeding feet in and pulled harder on the rope. He wanted to get the job finished quickly so it would be over and done with.
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Silas
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Squirellking*~*Southsward[P:NaN]
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Post by Silas on Jul 26, 2011 13:33:39 GMT -5
Heso glanced upward with his one eye just as they arrived at the location where more slaves were shaping the boulders into more useable blocks of stone, in the middle of the wide clearing in the heat of the day. The otter breathed heavily and rested his back on the giant stone, feeling a familiar queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, telling him he needed water, food. But such things didn't come easily, if at all. He tried his best to stretch his paws back out after gripping the rope for so long, standing back up momentarily as he met the eyes of one of the slave drivers. He scowled, the blisters on his paws still smarting.
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Wolfie
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[blue]Toboe the Timid[/blue][P:NaN]
Get over here, Zuko. Being part of the group also means being part of group hugs. ~ Katara
Posts: 1,685
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Post by Wolfie on Jul 28, 2011 22:35:11 GMT -5
The youngster sat down and ripped two strips of cloth from his clothing, using them to bind his torn up footpaws, wincing as the contact of the cloth with the wounds caused them to sting badly. He made himself a mental note to wash them thoroughly later on to try and avoid infection.
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Post by Hans Vermeer (Cole) on Jul 29, 2011 11:26:36 GMT -5
Venrah was there, as always. Not always in plain sight, but still there. From the distance, watching.... The vixen was a creature of a habit. She always visits here almost all days of the week, but the thing was. She never came at the same time every time. She would come randomly to make sure everything was going according to plan and working out as smoothly as possible.... and to keep all beasts, both slave and driver, on their toes....
Unfortunately, despite this. She rarely caught Raklin in the act of over abusing the slaves and workers, partly because despite his rages, he rarely completely lost control like he did just now and partly because he often happened to do it when SHE was not around. Cope this with most of the guards stationed here being idiotic MORONS who never care enough to report his actions to a superior and a fact that the superiors that do catch him simply punish him without bothering to report his actions to the warlord and his wife made her job all the more harder to deal with. A severe lack of discipline and order all around. Her experiences made her now HATE the word "hordes." She hoped than when this fortress was finished that Ragner would reorganize his forces and make them more of a obedient army. Simply because it would make her job easier....
She caught him in the act this time, she'll report this to the warlord or his wife sooner or later, but she wasn't going to discipline him right now. In fact..... She had better ideas.
She had noticed that when she DOES catch him in the act, he often has his wrath set on two individuals a little more than the others. A young otter and a older one..... Maybe a little meeting with those two can be scheduled....
The vixen popped open her canteen and emptied a little of her water on her head and shook the excess off. Leaving her head wet, but not dripping wet. this particular day was a scorcher indeed....
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Silas
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Squirellking*~*Southsward[P:NaN]
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Post by Silas on Jul 30, 2011 23:39:47 GMT -5
The old otter surveyed the rest of the slaver crew with his single eye, testing the wind with his whiskers. It seemed there was to be no relief today from the summer heat, not even a breeze to herd clouds overhead between them and the sun. Glancing down at the younger otter, he patted his shoulder reassuringly. "A good pull, me matey. And half the day's already done."
Though even as the words left his mouth, he glimpsed the vixen approaching them. Usually he would not be so enthusiastic about another vulpine showing up to add to their group, but here might be an exception. He knew the slave driver, Raklin or whoever, was at odds with her, to say the least. And while they fought, he and the slaves could take a breather. Even so, the otter had his doubts.
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Wolfie
Moderator
[blue]Toboe the Timid[/blue][P:NaN]
Get over here, Zuko. Being part of the group also means being part of group hugs. ~ Katara
Posts: 1,685
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Post by Wolfie on Aug 1, 2011 0:55:23 GMT -5
The younger lutrine looked up as his ears picked up her footsteps and his nose caught her scent. He watched as she came closer and growled warily, the noise warning but his body still and unmoving for the moment.
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Post by Hans Vermeer (Cole) on Aug 26, 2011 22:52:57 GMT -5
(OOC: Sorry guys. I'm trying to get back into the groove of things, but life is starting to get it's hold on me. DX XD )
The silver vixen caught the young otter's growl. Very low, yet due to the vixen's natural and gifted trait of having big and wide ears. She caught the sound that most of the other races (in place of the word 'species?') wouldn't catch, but made no mention or reaction to it. Though despite this, the strength in tone from such a weakened creature did somewhat impress and surprise her......
But that quickly was pushed out of the way and suddenly the focus of her attention was to the older otter who despite his age, remained strong and willing to continue. Age apparently had not slowed him down by much......
She locked eyes with her dark blue, yet somehow mesmerizing and piercing eyes as she spoke, warmly. It was like a very well crafted rapier, very smooth, very elegant, yet stabbed through with surprising precision. "If only if life was more fair wasn't it? If only you two could get your paws around that dog foxes' throat and strangle the life out of him. If only you two could do that and get away with it. If only you two could win. You WISH you two could win against such impossible odds. Such a sad end of your lives, isn't it......
Her voice dropped drastically, a whisper. "or maybe not?" A smile spread across her muzzle and the eyes turn into a leer. "Rose Tail has no control of you during the night when you sleep. When you finally sleep. I will wake you abit prematurely for only a few moments. We'll talk about makeing your wish come true.... Now. Try to act hurt or enraged." The vixen turned and swing her bush twice. striking both otters, the blows were not meant to be painful or anything. Just to add appearance that the vixen had only been cruelly mocking them in the vermin guard's eyes to advert suspension, the snickers confirmed it's success. The guards knew not what the vixen had said in her whisper, but it must have really hit home with both the slaves, especially the younger one......
What was the the vixen's reason for wanting to remove Raklin? Only the shadow of night would eventually unfold all information.....
(OOC: Ugh, once again sorry for the bad post guys. I have just been juggling stuff these past few weeks. DX )
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Silas
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Squirellking*~*Southsward[P:NaN]
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Post by Silas on Aug 29, 2011 21:53:51 GMT -5
(OOC: I can sympathize with ye, matey! Already got a big paper to orchestrate and all that m'self. And no groaning about yer post quality! 'S fine ) Heso merely grunted, regarding the vixen with a healthy suspicion in his one eye, but glanced back down to his footpaws as she swung her improvised brush whip at him. By now the old sea otter was used to being hit by a variety of objects, but for some reason the relatively gentle brush of the branch against his fur seemed far more sinister than the lashes he recieved in anger. Especially from Rose Tail. Heso was wary of them both, but he could only trust one. He can certainly count on Raklin to be angry and short-sighted, though with that said, he couldn't trust this vixen to be as predictable. As soon as she left, he quickly murmured to the younger otter beside him, "Soon as we've done 'er job, I'll bet you she'll put us out to dry. Best to play along for now, though..."
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Wolfie
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[blue]Toboe the Timid[/blue][P:NaN]
Get over here, Zuko. Being part of the group also means being part of group hugs. ~ Katara
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Post by Wolfie on Aug 30, 2011 1:16:36 GMT -5
The youth shrugged and nodded. Sure, if you think that's best.
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Silas
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Post by Silas on Sept 1, 2011 10:22:31 GMT -5
"What I think, matey..." The older otter huffed in reply, "No, it's what I know. Makin' a deal with any fox puts a knife in yer back. Best to keep your head low an' bide yer time." His hoarse seagoing accent ended in a cough as he stood up, sensing that the slaves were about to move out, all the way back to the quarry at a jog. Even that pace seemed cruel today, but there was little Heso could do but snarl and tolerate it. Until the right moment.
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