Blades in the Night (Rainshadow VS BrookSkimmer)

Started by Rainshadow, October 13, 2013, 12:13:36 AM

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Rainshadow

  OOC:  Yes, this will have a better name than the current one, but until then, this one'll have to do.  BIC:

 Cricket hacked away at the base of a small tree, grumbling about how it wasn't fitting for a lady to be chopping down trees.  She'd never been one for work, no matter what type it may be.  No, if she had her way, the stoat would be lying on a comfortable chair, sipping cold and refreshing drinks as she was being waited on by a full staff, all the work being tended to by lesser ranking beasts.

 Unfortunately, her life could not be so.  You see, Cricket was abandoned when she was just ten seasons old, forcing her to try and make a living for herself.  Her guardian, a quiet vixen, had died of old age in the middle of the night, shocking the young stoat.  She'd never known her parents, so the vixen, Rubah Feeks, had been her only friend.  Now that she was gone, what would Cricket do?

 Sighing, the she-stoat pulled herself out of the terrible memory, swinging her hatchet once again.  She had been working on the same tree for close to an hour, and even with her muscular arms and heavy swing, the tree would not be felled.  A cold breeze blew in and Cricket shivered, letting go of the tool with one hand and pulling up her dark hood.  Winter was coming soon, and she desperately needed firewood for the small house she'd found just a season earlier.

 Smiling to herself, the stoat thought about when she'd found her current home.  She'd been wandering through the woods, a place she'd heard called Mossflower, when she saw a bit of smoke rising from a tiny cottage in the distance.  Quietly walking over to the door, the female had knocked, quickly getting into a pitiful position, one that she thought would make her look tired and hungry.  The old hedgehog who owned the house let her in, setting her by the fire and feeding her.  Then, in the middle of the night, she'd slit his throat, claiming the cottage as her own.  Now that she thought about it, maybe the stoat should have let him live.  Cricket could have used a slave.

 This time it was not herself that brought her mind back to the present.  A loud snap made Cricket's head shoot up, and she swiftly hid behind the tree she'd previously been hacking away at, slowly pulling the other hatchet out of her belt loop.  Then she waited, watching the area she'd heard the noise come from through a small fork in the tree.
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BrookSkimmer

Rave shivered and pulled his cloak closer to his body. The stoat had been making his way through Mossflower for quite a while now. By his reckoning it was almost a week's worth of toil. Of all the seasons to make a break for it he had chosen one most difficult to deal with. Snow would be coming soon and the stoat was without shelter.

It had been only a few weeks ago that he had been living a much for comfortable life. Though working for a horde master was a tiresome career, Rave had stuck with it. He had shouldered his way through the ranks to make it to fourth in command which was nothing to scoff at. An entire regiment had been under his orders. Direfang, the wildcat leader of the horde, had come to trust Rave. And that had almost lead to his demise. If it had not been for Dula, the petulant wretch of a weasel aide, Rave would now be leading the horde. But it appeared the cards of fate were not in his favor.

Dula had awakened and come to Direfang's rescue just before Rave's arrow had left the string. The only good that came of the situation was seeing Dula spitted through the neck with a black flighted poisoned arrow.  After this Rave was forced to run. The commotion had alerted other guards and some of them had seen through Rave's plot.

Now the dark furred stoat was a hunted beast. He had to find a place to shelter, to hole up until they stopped searching for him. There was a chance Direfang would never give up the search. Rave's eyes displayed the look of somebeast being pursued, they were dark and constantly on alert.  His was well built and not lacking in muscle but also lithe enough to carry himself smoothly. His fur displayed the white brands and tattoos of his horde. Swirling patterns about his face, arms and legs. He wore light clothing, fit for travel. Over this he had donned a thick cloak to ward of winter's soon coming chill.

Smoke. A thin curl of smoke could be seen not far from where he now stood at the edge of a small stream. He moved forward slowly, his footpaws betraying nothing of his presence. He could make out the faint sounds of somebeast chopping. As he moved nearer, the form of what could be another stoat came into view. Perfect. He would kill this beast, take their home, and hide out for the winter.

Carefully Rave knocked an arrow to the string and readied his shot. He pulled back, bringing his paw to his face and sighted along the shaft. Then, just as he was exhaling and preparing to fire...

SNAP

His bowstring broke, cutting him across the cheek. The wound drew blood and he cursed as he threw down the ruined weapon. The stoat drew two long knives from his belt and moved smoothly towards the beast. They would not escape death this day.

Rainshadow

  The she-stoat peeked around her hiding spot, wishing her fur matched the colour of the tree.  She could be spotted a mile away with the light fur and the yellow dress!  But still, she tried her hardest to keep her cool, inhaling deeply and clutching her twin hatchets.

  Around the edge of the tree appeared two brown eyes and a tuft of spiky fur, as well as the tip of Cricket's nose as she tried to find the source of the noise.  She thought she could make out a bit of movement in the distance, a dark blot where most other things were light, but that could just be a tree sapling.

  Taking a deep breath, Cricket thought over what she could do.  Should she fight?  No, that might not be smart, she didn't even know what she might be facing.  Run?  That could be bad too, for what if it were a hare?  She'd be outrun immediately, and unfortunately, the stoat had no training in the art of evading.  So there she stood, scanning the horizon for her unseen foe, her heart pounding out of her chest.
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BrookSkimmer

Rave though for sure the beast would have made a move at this point. It was obvious that he was out there, though perhaps he could not be seen. The snap of the bow string had been too loud not to be heard. He had not seen the other beast take off running, and they certainly were not coming any closer to him. Perhaps they were still where he had been aiming earlier?

The stoat swallowed hard and moved closer to the dwelling. There was always a chance the beast owning the place was helpless or weak and he could over come them in a fight. He slid his long knife out from his belt and placed his broken bow back over his shoulder.

"Gates." He muttered softly as he came closer. Not a sound could be heard, save the rustling of dry grass and the rasp of his own breathing. Then he saw somebeast!

Rave backed up a pace and held forth his knife.

"I know you're there." He readied himself for combat.

Rainshadow

  Cricket cursed inwardly.  The other beast, a stoat, perhaps, had seen her!  How could she be so clumsy?  She gripped her duel axes tighter, her paws starting to hurt.  She wouldn't go down without a fight.

 Closing her eyes, the stoat tried her hardest to listen for the other beast as she pulled her head behind the tree.  Don't move, she told herself, just don't move.  She readied her hatchets, sniffing the air for the unknown creature.  Unfortunately, she was upwind of him.  If anything, he'd smell her!

 Suddenly, without any warning, Cricket flung herself out of the hiding spot and charged at where she thought the other beast was, screaming a wordless warcry as she waved her hatchets.
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BrookSkimmer

Suddenly a beast came at him screaming! Rave barely had time to get his wits about him enough to avoid the onslaught. The hatchets reflected the dying rays of the sun as a female stoat came hurtling forth.

The stoat bared his teeth, aware now of who he was fighting. It was a beast of his own kind, and a female. Normally Rave would have smoothed back his headfur and spoken with courtesy of one like this, but the situation called for some thing different. If he wanted a place to stay for the winter he would have to off this she-stoat.

He held his long knife forth and moved towards the other stoat.

"Let's not make this more difficult than we have to. I'll just kill you nice and quick, no big deal." His eyes glittered at the dark joke and he began to move towards Cricket.

The knife snaked out from his paw, seeking to take Cricket in the chest. A blow to the heart would take her quickly and this would be over.

Rainshadow

  Cricket saw the blade coming at her, but she knew she had no time to stop running.  She would ram right into the other stoat and die, only possibly taking him with her.  But the she-stoat had no intention of dying today.  She dove out of the way, falling to the right and landing in a soft bush she had no name for.  One of her hatchets had nicked her on the forehead, but at least she wasn't dead.

  Standing up quickly, Cricket held her weapons aloft, spitting out, "Yew ain't gonna kill me, stoat!  Yew ain't got the strength to."  She was about to deal a blow to his shoulder when she stopped, her axe frozen in midair.  She stared at the stoat, his appearance triggering some memory buried deep within her.  A memory of a stoat much like him whispering quiet words into her ear as he held her in his arms.  Her father, perhaps?  Rubah had told her that her father was quite handsome, but the she-stoat hadn't known what he looked like.

  Cricket shook her head, telling herself that this stoat wasn't her father.  He wasn't nearly old enough, as he looked about her age, and the old vixen had told her that her father was already old when he'd given his daughter to her.  So, once again, the tan beast lifted her axe and swung it, hoping to land a heavy blow on the other stoat's left shoulder.
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BrookSkimmer


BrookSkimmer

Yew ain't gonna kill me, stoat!  Yew ain't got the strength to.

The other stoat had evaded his attack by landing in a bush. He would kill this beast and take her home. He needed some place to stay this winter. To continue wandering in the coming season would spell death for him. He readied himself for a fight. He would either fight here and possibly die, or fight the winter and loose assuredly.

She paused for a moment before coming at him. There had been a trace of some far off glint in her eye. Rave stared at the tan colored beast before him. She was not unlike himself in age and if not for the conditions they found themselves under the stoat may have taken a few more moments to look at her. As it was an ax was fast heading his direction.

He managed to side step the ax blow as it came in towards his shoulder. He felt the air whoosh by as the attack fell just short of taking off his arm.

"Oh, I've got more strength than you'd think lil' missy!"

He bared his front teeth at her now in a growl. Sure a strong attack would be countered by one of his own. He thrust his blade forward, aiming to take her in the gut. The stoat kept light on his footpaws, judging when her axes might come into play.

Rainshadow

  "Oh, I've got more strength than you'd think lil' missy!"

  Why did he have to say that?  Cricket was already afraid of him, afraid of dying, and then he had to say that.  The she-stoat shook her head, trying to get the thought to leave.  No, she was in a battle, she couldn't think like that!

  As the male stoat's blade shot towards her, Cricket spun to the side, desperately hoping that it would miss her.  She felt the blade graze her side, cutting through fur and just barely breaking the surface of her skin.  That stoat would die for that action.  But how?  She thought of the knife in her boot, attached to her leg, but that would take precious time to get out.  The female could be dead by then.

  Inhaling sharply, the jill brought her left paw to her side, wincing in pain.  The cut was longer than she'd thought, but thankfully not very deep.  Still, it hurt!  She growled at the stoat standing in front of her and swung her hatchets around, hoping to catch him anywhere.  She had no knowledge of how to use them, having taken them off of the hedgehog who'd owned the cottage before she'd taken it.  But who cared at a moment like this?  Cricket was in a life or death situation!

  OOC:  Sorry about such a late response!  Life decided to be busy.  ::)
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