[ P ] There's a Spark [Sundstol]

F

inally. Finally, had he arrived again--back across the mountain ridges and back into this little land filled with political unrest. Not that any of it mattered to him. Indeed, he had been called away suddenly, back to his homelands, where a war had broken out and shattered the foundations of many things, and his services were needed. Required. And now, nearly half a year later, he returned on the cusp of spring. Summer was drawing to a close and the pollen in the air gave him little room for questioning. He shrugs his satchel over his shoulder, lips peeled back in a scowl of annoyance. He mutters under his breath, curses, spits hexes and anything else he could manage as he trudges through the beautiful area, apparently unmoved by the scenery. No, his mood is far too sour to be swayed by the way the rising sun melts like liquid gold across the grasses and scattered sunlight filters through the branches and causes glistening dew to sparkle as far as the eye could see. The gentle breeze that brought with it the sweet scent of familiarity on it's waves.

"Oh for fucks sake." He hisses between his teeth. A snort, issued from his nose like a bull was the only thing that preceded his sudden attack, jaws snapping and clamping shut on a vole that had the misfortune to be wandering past. He snaps at it like a reptile, tossing his head back and letting the rodent slither down his gullet in one large piece before heaving out a huffed sigh. ....Okay. Some tension expelled. It would do, for now.
Still, he is not here for business but rather, a social call. It has been a while since he last saw hide nor hair of the brutish man whom he had absolutely obliterated during the baking contest, and some small part of him wishes to see how he's doing. You know, to check up on him. Not because he cares or anything! Of course not. Just. You know. Just in case! He most certainly has not packed a veritable treasure trove of items into that satchel for healthcare or medicine or chicken feed. No way, no sir.

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

@Sundstol

RUBY RIVER GLOWING IN THE SUN

Summer had been far kinder this year. Though it always came with its typically uncomfortable temperatures, he could be thankful that it would it not throw him into another fit of heat exhaustion. No matter how the sun beat down on his shoulders, he still found himself carrying on the daily routine of working his homestead and patrolling the forest to ensure all was as it should be.

Today Sundstol was outside his home working on prepping hides from previous hunts to put them in storage. He had them laid all about, hanging over branches and laid out in front of him as he fleshed and tanned them meticulously. He slung the last one he'd finished over his shoulder and took it to a low hanging branch, throwing it over to inspect the pelt when an approaching form caught his eye.

Sund squinted his tiny emerald eyes and lifted his nose into the air realizing this was a familiar someone. He stepped to the side of his curtain of animal skins until the small man was close enough for him to greet. Sundstol didn't expect to ever see the fellow baker again and his brows rose in curiosity as to why he'd come back this way. "D'ya forget somethin'?" He asked, glancing back over his shoulder at his makeshift chicken coop. "Inga likes ta take shiny things so..."

@Cyrill

Wash me over,
Show me where you run...

Roll me deeper in your tide,
Take my spirit, take my mind,
Take me over to that other side...

code by claerie ~ art by ashon

H

e snorts and slings his bag down, letting it hit the ground with a pompf. He could be mean in his response--his initial reaction is to complain, to insult. That would, after all, be his default. But instead, he wrinkles his nose in what could be the beginnings of a scowl before smoothing it out again and shaking his head,"I'm back from a trip and I thought to come check on you. And Inga." He pulls open the satchel and immediately, the pungent scent of herbs and flowers and seeds spills out, sharp in the air in comparison to the weedy, earthy scents of the Redwood. He pulls out several wrapped bundles of various things. He does not recall if he mentioned it, so he mentions it now as he lays them out. "I am a medic," he explains, "So my instinct is to provide medical care." As a homesteader, he assumes that Sund gets his fair share of small injuries and wounds--and he knows that hunting is not an exact science. So he has come to deliver basic medical supplies.

He huffs, and turns the bag over to let the rest of it's contents spill out onto the ground-- a bunch of cracked corn and grains. For the stupid chicken.
Don't say he never did anything nice! ...Not that he says this aloud, m,ind you. Instead, he simply does all of this and then folds the now-empty bag back over his shoulder and neck. He knows that i would otherwise be rude to just drop his shit and leave, so he shuffles uncomfortably while he fights with himself internally, eventually coming to the conclusion that he should attempt a conversation.
"..So..how was your summer?" Look, it's more than most get out of him.

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

@Sundstol

RUBY RIVER GLOWING IN THE SUN

A man of very few words, the burly brute watched in silence, observing the little spitfire of a man as he slung his bag down into the ground. Cyrill scowled. Sundstol stared. When he finally did speak, Sund's brows rose in mild confusion as he shared the reason for this visit. "To check…on me?" He murmured softly, his expression one of surprise as his gaze traveled to the satchel that was being emptied of its contents. He moved a few pawsteps closer, tentatively lowering his muzzle to give some of the bundles of different herbs from wherever Cyrill had been.

When he rose up to his full height again, he gestured with his snout at the great bounty being shared right at his feet. "All of this…is…for me?" Sundstol was slightly hesitant in asking as he did not want to assume one way or the other. Then Cyrill dumped out the seed and there was hardly a second between that sound and the flourish of hen feathers as Inga appeared leading the charge of a couple of other chickens towards the sounds of feed made available. Sundstol had to pick up his massive feet as the girls all weaves between his legs to get to the offering left for them.

A low rumble of a chuckle rose up as he watched the hens begin to annihilate the seed and he looked to the generous medic, amusement dancing in his forest green eyes. Sundstol thought then that the man might just turn on his heel, at least that was the initial vibe he got, but he watched as Cyrill lingered, shuffling on his paws before asking how his summer was. "Hot." He replied simply before trying to come up with something more to say. "Better this year though"

He glanced over at some of the pelts he had hanging nearby and then back at his home. "Did you…erm…want to rest for a while? I just…I know how grueling travel can be…and I've got some extra meat if you're hungry…" He offered, his gaze traveling down to his own scuffling paws. He did not want to give the impression of being desperate, but it did get rather lonely from time to time and he wouldn't have minded Cyril's company.

@Cyrill

Wash me over,
Show me where you run...

Roll me deeper in your tide,
Take my spirit, take my mind,
Take me over to that other side...

code by claerie ~ art by ashon

H

e scoffs aloud at his initial response. Of COURSE the summer is hot, what the fuck else would it be?! ....Except he doesn't say this, despite the scowl settled on his face. Instead, he shuffles and sweeps a paw forward to send some more of the feed spilling outward so that the hungry flapping birds would have a bit more presence of mind to waddle away from the path of his feet. For such a small thing, he moves--and acts-- with size far beyond him. Referring to sheer ego, he could have dwarfed even Sundstol. Perhaps he did in some ways, as even though he barely comes up to the man's chest he still has the distinct ability to look down his nose at him. Or others. And normally, this is somewhat insulting, but in the case of the homesteader, it seems simply to be his default and had he intended to be insulting or mean, there would be no mistake about it.

He wrinkles his lip as the chickens continue to swarm, and had these been any other creature he would have had himself a snack. Instead, he carefully steps over and around them, which brings him even closer to the ember-colored bear of a man. He follows his gaze, back to his home and the skins laid out. "I am already restless," he admits, lifting a dainty little paw and giving it a brief shake, "I am used to travel but if I stop now, I will not want to get back up when I must." he rolls his shoulders a bit, the action being followed by a sigh as he smooths out his seemingly-permanent scowl,"...I think I would much rather go for a quick hunt. Hunting in woodlands provides me a different challenge than hunting in open fields." He turns on his heel, but pauses to wait for Sund without a word. Assuming--rather, expecting-- him to come along. Sure, he might already have some extra meat in reserve--but what was better than fresh? Nothing, that's what.

"You may keep whatever extra, if there is any." Provided the hunt is a successful one. "If not...well, at least I can burn off some of this energy." He'd probably vibrate in place if he had less control. "C'mon. I'm not going to linger any longer than I want to." Uh, wasn't it 'any longer than I have to'? ....Ah well.

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

@Sundstol

Leprechauns

The soft scuffling of tiny paws can be heard as if mischievous children are racing through the undergrowth and sprinting north. They snicker as if they have won a pot of gold.


To interact with the leprechauns, please post in #updates

MISCHIEF

A glimpse of red hair catches your eye amidst the tall grass. When you finally chase down the tiny little men, you find them frolicking in a pile of shimmering, metallic objects. One particularly rotund leprechaun sits on the gold coins and trappings, a pipe in his mouth furling with smoke. Its scent is intoxicating. In one of his hands is a tiny hammer, in the other is a needle, and in front of him is an alien concept: a charming pair of leather shoes.

Offer the leprechaun a gift to receive a useless pair of human shoes.

Attempt to take a piece of gold, and the leprechaun stabs your wolf’s paw with the needle before vanishing (along with all the treasure) into thin air!

@Cyrill @Sundstol

RUBY RIVER GLOWING IN THE SUN

Sundstol was practically holding his breath until Cyrill replied by admitting he was already a restless traveler and he needed to keep moving. That and he rather fancied a hunt instead. Trying not to look too disappointed, the large man released a breath of air with a simple, "Ah..." He averted his gaze to watch the chickens go about pecking morsels from the dirt. Fortunately the ivory male turned himself around as though he were making to leave.

It took him a moment of listening to Cyril's silken voice again for him to realize that the mention of hunting had been an invitation. Sundstol blinked, the realization passing over his face as he cleared his throat. "Oh, ehm, right...let me just..." As Inga and her flock we're finishing up, he herded them all back into their coop, ensuring they were well protected when not under his watch. He then lumbered back over to rejoin Cyrill where he waited.

Sund was about to open his mouth to make a suggestion regarding the prey that resided in Redwood, but unusual motion caught his eye. Tiny things, smaller than his companion even, were hopping about in some of the grasses nearby. He glowered at the fae creatures, his lip curling slightly, knowing they could be naught, but trouble. "Careful of those ones...they're a tricksy bunch..." He snorted, personally not wanting to even give the menacing gremlins the time of day, but he knew his advice would either be taken or left by Cyrill and he would not be able to sway him otherwise.

@Cyrill

Wash me over,
Show me where you run...

Roll me deeper in your tide,
Take my spirit, take my mind,
Take me over to that other side...

code by claerie ~ art by ashon

W

hat the actual hell were those? He is no stranger to most things and some vague part of his mind recalls stories of tiny fae creatures. But the more dominant part of his mind greatly dislikes being 'mischiefed', so to speak. Rather than trying to steal gold--which is generally useless and as an alchemist, he is certain he can find other uses for it-- or be so pleasant as to offer the thing a gift-- perish the thought-- he snaps at it, in some attempt to maybe see if it's edible? Instead, he gets only a needle to the paw and an empty mouth. He scowls, shaking out the pinprick of pain., Nothing too terrible, he has certainly had worse.
"Not edible," he states aloud, perhaps for posterity. As if Sund is taking notes or something. He snorts, disappointed and annoyed with this turn of events but no worse for wear. "I take it that's not a normal occurrence in the Redwood?" what would he know, after all--he is an outlander, an outsider, someone who's knowledge of this land is minimal at best. He learns as he goes, yes, but this? He doesn't suspect this is common....or normal at all, actually. Hm, a thought for another time. He turns to proceed to stalk into the treeline, a flicker of rosegold and white against the crimson and dark of the redwood. "So tell me of your hunting exploits." he finally states, glancing over his shoulder.

So dainty, so delicate almost--petite and waif-like, one could easily assume he's little more than a pretty face and svelte little body, but alas, they would be dreadfully mistaken. "My old hunting grounds helped me with many things. Boar among the most common. Sure, they were tough as shit and they were likely to gore the fuck out of anybody who wasn't paying attention but I got in good medical practice," he pauses, and thinks for a moment. "Come to think of it, boar are native around here, right? We should get one." Just...the two of them? SURE WHY NOT. Either he is overly confident and bordering on mad, or aggressive enough to offset it.

...Probably the second one.
He was not called 'a dragon' for the hell of it, after all. Dragonsblood ran in the family, and were one to meet any of his littermates, they would see he is not at all an outlier.

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

@Sundstol

RUBY RIVER GLOWING IN THE SUN

Green eyes widened when Cyrill earned himself a needle to the paw after snapping at one of the fae creatures. He felt a twinge of anger heat his belly to see they'd hurt his friend. He turned to snatch one of his pelts from a branch, tossing it at the imps with a bellowing growl as he went to stand in front of Cyrill protectively. "Take it and be gone, you lot." His low voice rumbled like thunder as he hoped to be rid of them with his offering.

When he looked back to check on the cream-colored male he blinked, eyes darting about to find that the medic seemed to have not been bothered enough by the tiny green things and had continued on his way with the hunt in mind. Sund gave one last snort in the direction of the fae before moving to catch up to his hunting partner. Taking to Cyrill's side again, he was asked about his hunting exploits as a topic of conversation before the man launched began to share his own. Now, this was something Sundstol was passionate about and could easily talk through in any conversation.


"Boar, hm?" He repeated, surprised to find the petite male enjoyed that prey animal the most. Firstly, because boar were an aggressive hunt and would not hesitate to attack you even if you did not pose the threat first. The other reason he was surprised is that, they had this in common. "I've always liked wild boar, myself...it's the challenge and thrill of the kill that does it for me. They're pelts are rough and the hair is straw-like, but if you strip it evenly and tan it properly, the leather is good for other many uses. Plus, pork is delicious, in my opinion..." This may have been the most words he'd ever said to Cyrill at one time and his smile was broad as it settled across his face. Sund's large golden-red tail swished back and forth in an excited wag. "I could go for boar right now, if we we're able to find one."

@Cyrill

Wash me over,
Show me where you run...

Roll me deeper in your tide,
Take my spirit, take my mind,
Take me over to that other side...

code by claerie ~ art by ashon