On this episode of Crocodile Hunter
11-11-2018, 09:52 PM
Dea wasn't sure what had brought her so far south. Auster wasn't a place she recalled fondly. For her, it was the long trek here that had destroyed her family, what had started the beginning of the end. Making sure to avoid Wraith's Woods, Dea made her way westward. It was slow going, apparently, the ground had been saturated by floods. She could see the damage done by the flood waters, trees that still held the thick red clay dirt from the area around them halfway up their trunks. It was almost as if someone had come and painted the trees, with as the thick sediment coating the bark. Rains had washed most of the clay off of the foliage that made up the plains she now walked along. Here, the earth was still soft and wet beneath her feet, and she wondered if she might be getting close to a body of water. Auster had never been marshy before, it was a strange feeling to be trudging along through the long grasses and have to suddenly fight her paw out of a mud hole. Dea was minding her own business, fighting her way through the marsh-like lands around Cattail Creek when a low rumbling hiss could be heard just to her right. Freezing in her tracks, Dea thought she had only imagined the noise until she began to move again and the same sound was ushered forth. Her ears twitched and she felt her heart thud harshly against her sternum as if begging to be freed. Bright pink eyes rolled around as she looked for the source of the sound, though it was difficult to see with all the reeds and long grasses in the way. She considered for a moment if Archon's Fallen God had suddenly paid her attention and decided she was only a plaything, gleefully toying with her mind. Then, the sound came again, this time with movement from her right. Startled, Dea growled and moved away, facing what she had thought was only a log just seconds before. Two sickly green eyes stared back at her with a wide gaped mouth that showcased very white conical teeth in long rows along the jaws. A demon in true form if she ever saw one, the beast of a crocodile launched itself toward her, forcing her to back peddle in reluctant retreat. It continued to hiss at her, though Dea's more obstinate side began to show itself. The reptile blocked her path, and while she was up to her ankles in water, she still wanted to get further down the banks of the creek. She needed to see the extent of the flood damage, curiosity was a powerful driver behind this need. Snarling at the crocodile, Dea looked around to see if she could spot anything to help her against this demon. Nothing of use was in the reeds, and while she could retreat, she didn't want to feel cowardly. It would bring her down in her own psyche and she would never forgive herself. The croc hissed and lunged again, forcing Dea back while she thought of how to attack, looking around for anything to aid her. She knew from playing with the smaller ones from the ponds of Wraith's Woods that there was a way to stop their bite, but with one this size, she wouldn't be able to handle that job alone. Sharp pieces of petrified wood jabbed her in the hind end as she backed away from the fearsome beast, and the wheels began to turn. It was during her search for aid that God deemed fit to send her help, a stranger passing along in the distance caught her eye and she howled to get their attention. She couldn't take her eyes off of the crocodile for long however as it turned to almost circle her, trying to decide the best angle of attack. If she could get the stranger to surprise the crocodile, and close its jaws and hold the reptile until she could get the piece of wood in position for a roll. The stranger could clamp the crocodile on the jaws with theirs - effectively holding its mouth shut and triggering defensive instincts - the beast would go into the trademark roll as a defense. Once the wood was in position, she would tell the stranger to grip the demon in their mouth by its jaws, then to roll with the creature until it speared itself on the wood that she would be holding steady. It wasn't the most sound plan, proven even more foolhardy by the obvious agitation of the crocodile. She shouted to the stranger for help, hoping they would heed her call. She was cornered against the petrified log with an angry croc shining its teeth at her! Seasonal Prompt - Skill: Fighting Word Count: 800 Locate & Identify target: ✓ Draw target out of hiding: ✓ Strategize how to handle target: ✓ Walk, "Talk" Think |
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12-16-2018, 08:14 PM
Once the pack was settled into their new lands and he was satisfied that a watch had been set despite everyone's desire to rest after a long journey, Apollo retraced the route back to the old pack lands to be certain that no one and nothing had been left along the way. Not everyone had made the journey all at once despite Malleus' efforts, and while Apollo had confidence that the others would join them in short order by following the scent trail left he did not want to leave it entirely to chance. Particularly with the possibility that one may have been injured and with the pack far from them had been unable to summon help.
He found no trace of any of the few missing wolves, and most of the detritus left behind was of no real usefulness any longer. Some discarded herbs that the healers had left scattered, perhaps past their prime or gone bad. Some bits and scraps of hide and furs that he judged too small or worn to bother with, scattered bones and other refuse that a lived-in camp always gained after a while.
Satisfied that there was nothing of value left behind, he had started once more on his way back when a desperate howl echoed through the now-abandoned lands to attract his attention. He whipped around to face the call, gold eyes searching fiercely for the caller.
There, the young woman with the earthen toned fur and the pink eyes. Moving in on her in a deceptively lumbering manner was a huge reptile with a long, jagged-toothed snout and even longer whip-like tail. A crocodile. He had seen them in the distance as they exploded out of the water to snap powerful jaws upon their prey. When it closed the distance enough to reach the trapped wolf, the female would have little chance of surviving with all her limbs intact. Crocodiles were not merciful creatures.
Apollo surveyed them coolly, debating the merits of involving himself in a clearly dangerous situation on behalf of a mortal, a mortal he did not even know. Logically there was no reason to involve himself in her demise, and he didn't feel any particularly emotional reason to either. Still, he was vaguely intrigued at the idea of battling the huge prehistoric monster. He had defeated a elephant, but a crocodile could be every inch as dangerous in the correct circumstances.
These were not those circumstances, he judged, as he watched the creature move. It was not a natural land animal, though undoubtedly the wet weather and flooding is what had driven it here. If ever someone could defeat one of the beasts it would be now. He was not a thrill seeker or glory hound, but the thought of adding that sort of notch to the collective Abraxas belt held a certain appeal on its own merits. Very well.
He broke into a lope towards where the reptile threatened the unknown wolf, his golden eyes taking in the details as he went. He was coming in at a ninety degree angle rather than directly behind, so he should be able to more easily maneuver, though he risked the creature seeing him coming before he could disable the thing's formidable weaponry. They had incredible strength when biting down but, he had noted, not when opening their jaws. Perhaps he could take advantage of that, if he could get the timing right.
Shifting from a cautious lope to an all out sprint, he charged in at the creature's side and leaped, twisting as he did, and praying to the Fallen God's favor that he had timed it correctly.
At the last moment the crocodile saw his movement and gaped its jaws, but Apollo's chest his squarely atop the bridge of its long snout and slammed it downward to close with a snap - luckily not with any of Apollo's limbs between those fearsome teeth, as he landed with all four legs straddling the snout. He angled his paws to take advantage of his momentum, curling beneath the crocodile's lower jaw as he dropped, enabling him to wrap his forelegs around the creature's snout even as his chest pinned it to the ground.
Face to face, eye to eye, he and the primordial reptilian beast stared at one another, before Apollo drove his parted jaws forward to dig his fangs into the hooded black eyes.
The beast went mad with rage and pain, arching and rolling so fast Apollo very nearly lost his grip. But he held grimly with jaws and forelegs, keeping the deadly jaws clamped shut.
Word count: 768
He found no trace of any of the few missing wolves, and most of the detritus left behind was of no real usefulness any longer. Some discarded herbs that the healers had left scattered, perhaps past their prime or gone bad. Some bits and scraps of hide and furs that he judged too small or worn to bother with, scattered bones and other refuse that a lived-in camp always gained after a while.
Satisfied that there was nothing of value left behind, he had started once more on his way back when a desperate howl echoed through the now-abandoned lands to attract his attention. He whipped around to face the call, gold eyes searching fiercely for the caller.
There, the young woman with the earthen toned fur and the pink eyes. Moving in on her in a deceptively lumbering manner was a huge reptile with a long, jagged-toothed snout and even longer whip-like tail. A crocodile. He had seen them in the distance as they exploded out of the water to snap powerful jaws upon their prey. When it closed the distance enough to reach the trapped wolf, the female would have little chance of surviving with all her limbs intact. Crocodiles were not merciful creatures.
Apollo surveyed them coolly, debating the merits of involving himself in a clearly dangerous situation on behalf of a mortal, a mortal he did not even know. Logically there was no reason to involve himself in her demise, and he didn't feel any particularly emotional reason to either. Still, he was vaguely intrigued at the idea of battling the huge prehistoric monster. He had defeated a elephant, but a crocodile could be every inch as dangerous in the correct circumstances.
These were not those circumstances, he judged, as he watched the creature move. It was not a natural land animal, though undoubtedly the wet weather and flooding is what had driven it here. If ever someone could defeat one of the beasts it would be now. He was not a thrill seeker or glory hound, but the thought of adding that sort of notch to the collective Abraxas belt held a certain appeal on its own merits. Very well.
He broke into a lope towards where the reptile threatened the unknown wolf, his golden eyes taking in the details as he went. He was coming in at a ninety degree angle rather than directly behind, so he should be able to more easily maneuver, though he risked the creature seeing him coming before he could disable the thing's formidable weaponry. They had incredible strength when biting down but, he had noted, not when opening their jaws. Perhaps he could take advantage of that, if he could get the timing right.
Shifting from a cautious lope to an all out sprint, he charged in at the creature's side and leaped, twisting as he did, and praying to the Fallen God's favor that he had timed it correctly.
At the last moment the crocodile saw his movement and gaped its jaws, but Apollo's chest his squarely atop the bridge of its long snout and slammed it downward to close with a snap - luckily not with any of Apollo's limbs between those fearsome teeth, as he landed with all four legs straddling the snout. He angled his paws to take advantage of his momentum, curling beneath the crocodile's lower jaw as he dropped, enabling him to wrap his forelegs around the creature's snout even as his chest pinned it to the ground.
Face to face, eye to eye, he and the primordial reptilian beast stared at one another, before Apollo drove his parted jaws forward to dig his fangs into the hooded black eyes.
The beast went mad with rage and pain, arching and rolling so fast Apollo very nearly lost his grip. But he held grimly with jaws and forelegs, keeping the deadly jaws clamped shut.
Word count: 768