The Eagles Tears

[Gonff the Mousethief]

"Your earrings matter none when a hunt is on the day. Now, get ready. All of you for that matter." Mostsqueh gave a cold glance at his new group, followed by him putting on his fox-head hood. They better had start to head off, or the vermin would have more time to get farther ahead.

[Ashleg]

"Old creep, wearin' another creature's head..." Fishpaw said, muttering under his breath as he waited to get going.

[LT Sandpaw]

Stifling a laugh Namas grinned sideways at Mostsqueh while helping Fishpaw up. He nodded mutely agreeing with everything Fishpaw had to say up until stupid Eagle Tears where he frowned not sure how to address it.

"Yeah, it must inspire terror into his enemies. At least its not a cat he's wearing." Namas said finally. He wasn't sure whether to be concerned or not, his own clothes were made out of other creatures, but the beaten leather no longer resembled or smelled of its original host. Shrugging he began running in place to warm up, small puffs of red dust billowed into the air as he slapped his footpaws down.

"Milk-of-Moon are you ready to run?" He asked trying to change the subject.

[Dannflower Reguba]

       Dawn had been out with a scouting party, but ever since waking that morning, she couldn't shake a sense of dread that only increased the closer she came to the tribal grounds. Her compatriots weren't far behind her when she got a line of sight on her destination. After a quick wave, the Cheetah left them behind as she ran into the village, instinctively knowing that something wasn't right. Upon realizing that the drums being used were those of war, her fears were deepened, and the chaos in camp wasn't bringing much hope for good news. After arriving, she searched for an elder to ask what was going on, and after being a given a brief synopsis, waited for Eagle Tears to finish. From what she had gathered, there were going to be two parties, one that had already left, and the other waiting for he who appeared to be the new Chieftain. Dawn needed to know where her place was, the second group would probably be the main force, consisting of the majority of the tribe, but the first group didn't appear to have any beast with significant experience treating wound or illness. Her placement was a chip-toss, and if sending her after the first group was deemed desirable, the sooner this conversation happened the better.

[Ashleg]

Fishpaw shivered. "Cat, fox, weasel, whatever. It still gives me the willies!"

[Blaggut]

Groth ((That's his name, right? I'll check later)) eyed the leader. He was drinker than usual, knowing he wouldn't be able to imbibe on the warpath. It took a lot to get him drunk these days. He got up and began picking some herbs - rum with hotroot soup wouldn't do bad for the first night on the trail. He'd have to make a beer run into some civilization eventually - the main reason he didn't stay with the tribe as much as he'd like.

[Izza]

Marci Embarko awoke late that day, to find he had missed the entire sorting and organizing of the parties. Although the field mouse wasn't the brightest of the bunch, he was able to discern that some sort of expedition was being sent ahead.

Another hunt, just what he had hoped for! He rubbed his aching head, still smarting from falling headfirst into a tree during an unfortunate experience on his last hunt. He planned to fully recover and to make up for that humiliation. He unofficially joined the section officially led by Mostsqueh the Jack Rabbit, filtering into the back of the group.

As the Jack Rabbit proceeded to unreasonably punish a Pine Martin, Marci Embarko suddenly realized something: he had never been in charge. It had always been a big dream of his to lead a hunting party. Mostsqueh seemed somewhat occupied by his hood and Fishpaw, so now was the perfect opportunity to take the lead.

Marci marched straight forward, which by some miracle, happened to be the correct direction.

"Well, uh... C'mon then you lot! Never mind that Hare, Rabbit thing - (he doesn't have any ears anyhow!) Just, um, come this way! I'm in charge now, see? Haha, march you miserable, froglegged, misfortunate er... maggots! I'll rip yer ears off and feed 'em to ya if you don't get movin'! Haha, no offense meant Mostsqueh, I'll just rip yer arms off instead!"

[Gonff the Mousethief]

The Jack Rabbit quickly turned his head towards the field mouse who seemed to be taking command. Anger filled him once more. With a great force, he grabbed thee ear of the disorderly mouse and flung him to the ground, much like he had done to Fishpaw. His scarred and mangled face cast a shadow of dominance and fear onto the small creature.
"You see fox on head? He acted like you. Above me. Look where he is now. Where he wanted to be." Mostsqueh turned from his victim and looked at the rest of the group. "Now, no more acts like this. We leave now. Follow." With a heavy turn, he faced a slowly rising ridge, and began to walk towards it, motioning for the rest to follow.

[Ashleg]

"Did the poor liddle mousie get 'is head tossed in the dirt? Hahahaw!" Fishpaw laughed uproariously as he strode past Marci. "Don't worry, we can get back at him t'gethe rand make creepy outfits outta him."

[Gonff the Mousethief]

"That will be a day," sated Mostsqueh as he continued to head for the ridge.

[Izza]

Marci rubbed a small trail of blood from the offended ear, and groaned in pain. His ear felt as though it had been torn off of his head. His face and hair were coated with mud, and he spat and rubbed his eyes clean. As Fishpaw strode past, offering a most encouraging choice of words, Marci glowered at the backs of both the Pine Martin and the Jack Rabbit:

"Ain't no liddle mousie!"

But his frustration was soon forgotten due to the prospect of making clothing articles out of the limbs of Mostsqueh. He jogged past the group to catch back up to Fishpaw, and fell in step beside him.

"Ha, as though you coulda done any better, you took a beating yourself Fishpaw. But aye, we could get him back, and I got some great plans for making cloths outta that rabbit! Why I'll bet I could make a nice homely fur coat fer my old ma, and a rug to match it! Well, what are you going to make out of him?"

[Ashleg]

"Earrings, since he thinks they're petty." Said Fishpaw, bounding cheerfully along.
"An' we could make cloaks with the rest of him. Shouldn't be too hard, with a proper plan..."

[Izza]

Marci was thoroughly enjoying himself now. He blundered loudly through the brush and tripped over roots as he hurried along:

"Oo, cloaks would be nice! Hehe, I've always liked a good cloak - they make me feel ominous and mysterious! I dunno how you would manage to make earrings out of rabbit skin though. Maybe my old ma could give you a few pointers, she's got some nice earrings. Err, speaking of which I think that earring on the ear you landed on may be bent..."

[Ashleg]

"I know it's bent, no need t' point it out!" Fishpaw yowled, trudging on ahead with one paw covering the damaged accessory.
"...I'll make a cloak outta him yet." The marten grumbled.

[Groddil]

OOC: Figured it was about time I posted again. When is the tribe actually going to move?

BIC:

On the ridge overlooking the tribe, Dancing Flame and Raging Rapids had been travelling along the stream for some time. Raging Rapids suddenly stopped walking, diving into the water. She emerged shortly after with the alligator draped over her shoulder.
"I think it is-"
"-Time to stop? Yes, that-"
"-Sounds like a good idea. After all-"
"-Somebeast is approaching. Should you-"
"-Let the creature see if they are friend-"
"-Or foe. Yes, brother, a-"
"-Good plan. Do it!"
Raging Rapids smirked, dropping the short leash linking the alligator to her. A low growl echoed from the strange creature's throat as it disappeared into the rushes.

<|O|>

Stalks-In-Shadow wiped an ocean of sweat from her brow, panting heavily. She was used to tailing beasts through canyons, isolating them and killing them one by one. Not work that required too much manual labor. And here, in this wretched part of the land, that simply wasn't possible. The tribe were refusing to move, follow the canyons. She had to deal with them now, or be left behind. Still, the ridge would offer a vantage point, she'd told herself.
"Fat chance of that..."
The groundhog jumped in terror at a sound, some sort of rough grating noise. She had heard that noise before. Stalks-In-Shadow shouldered her bow, arrows never worked on these things, and took out her knife. A long, curved, dagger of forged steel. A prized possession, stolen from some careless beast in her youth. The groundhog always loved when she got to use her knife. It never failed her; never broke, always cut deep, always killed. The grating became louder, bushes by the river swaying like crazy. And then...it stopped. The thing retreated back into the water. Stalks-In-Shadow grumbled and sheathed her knife. Sure, alligators were dangerous things, but she NEVER got to use the knife. The groundhog took out her bow again and continued to trudge along the ridge. She saw...something...in the corner of her eye. It was in the water, and almost looked like a part of the river. But it was standing. She notched an arrow to her bow and turned to face the thing, which was a strangely-colored coyote. But before she could loose a shaft, she felt something at her neck. Something hot. Another coyote, his fur a dusty reddish-orange, had a flaming torch pressed against her throat. The fire licked at her ear, hurting like Hellgates. With his spare paw, the coyote swatted the bow out of her paws.
"Who are you? Why-"
"-Did you come here?"
Raging Rapids emerged from the creek, holding her spear in one paw and the alligator's leash in the other.
"Uhhh...I-I'm just a traveler..."
Dancing Flame swatted her roughly with the torch.
"Gaaah! I-It's...true! Why are you doing this?"
"Liar! Raging Rapids saw you-"
"-With the raiders, just-"
"Two suns ago. You-"
"-Came back to finish-"
"-The job, didn't you?"
Stalks-In-Shadow gulped. How did they know?
"I...Fine. You got me. I came back to kill the new chief, slow them down. You got a problem with that? You two don't even look like you're with them!"
"We're not. But-"
"We aren't friends with the raiders, either."
"True, sister, true. I suggest we give the tribe-"
"-A present. Their gratitude will bring gifts. Clothing, weapons, food-"
"-Water..."
The two creatures grabbed Stalks-In-Shadow and dragged her towards the edge of the ridge. The groundhog tried to protest, but her lies fell on deaf ears. Raging Rapids held her in place while Dancing Flame brandished his torch. Winding up his arm, the coyote swung the torch like a club, hitting Stalks-In-Shadow square in the gut. She grunted and took a step back in shock. Right off the edge of the ridge. The two coyotes watched with satisfaction as the groundhog continued to pick up speed and roll down the hill.
"The tribe will find her,-"
"-Let them deal with her..."