Wendigo Klein

Wendigo wandered down the mountainside at an unhurried pace. He hopped absently over blackened rock and kicked wildly at the charred remains of foliage. When they inevitably disintegrated he stamped his feet merrily and hooted his approval before moving on. In between the hooting, stamping and kicking he scatted to himself; the sound a constant and uneven drone of noise - his own personal theme song.

He journeyed on, over and through obstacles without batting an eye unless they were particularly dangerous. One such obstacle slowed him to a halt and dropped the theme song down to a quiet hum as he considered his options. Up ahead was a wall of stone that looked quite solid and at its feet was a deep crevice. Laying up it like a big ramp was the charred corpse of some sort of tree. All of the branches had been burned off except for the very top which somehow had escaped the flames and now lay at the top of the rock pile like the dried out nest of some ferocious bird. The rest of the tree may as well have been a charcoal briquet - and a thin one at that. Near the top of the rock pile the tree thinned down to a thin strip of wood that looked like the wind might take it out and knock it into the chasm below.

With a delighted squeal Wendigo raced towards the tree, his imagination running wild. He ran up the log...and was disappointed when he reached the top unscathed. Well, that wouldn't do. Where was the danger? He ran down it again and tried again, this time stomping his feet. No dice. Not even a creak. How rude! Where was his danger, his fun, his near death experience? Oh, he knew just what to do! Humming his theme song at full blast, Wendigo stomped back down the log and stopped at the thinnest spot. And then he started jumping.

screams | actions | whispers

Table coded by Scarlet

Mikko couldn't remember when he'd last seen a child. In fact, he'd done his best to avoid them after how things had gone over with his own. He by no means hated them--far from it, really--but there were certain ideas that he refused to entertain these days, as if he didn't deserve any of them. Because as far as he was concerned, he didn't. He'd been a horrible husband and an even worse father. His children had rebelled against him, disappeared, died, all right along with their mother. There remained a concern after his time as King that everything he touched would end up cursed. Alive or not, young or old.

But this was where life liked to test him. He'd been hearing faint echoes of a quiet hum for the past little while, even kept an ear out for anything that sounded suspicious, like a pup getting into something it shouldn't. However, Mikko's attempts to keep to himself--while, of course, attaining credit for looking out for the youths--were quickly thwarted by the odd sounds of cracks and breaks. They summoned him like a dog to its master, rousing him from his resting place with a tired scowl on his face, but upon following the sound and finding its source, his hackles bristled, and his features smoothed into a rather innocent display of panic.

He bounded forward, his one eye locking onto the jumping puppy as he seemed to be testing the stability of a charred tree. Below it, bits of ash and blackened bark popped off to float downward toward the ground. Mikko paused a few steps away, out of the child's sight, watching and gauging his movements until he lurched forward with open jaws to catch the boy mid-air. As soon as fur hit tongue, he jerked his head upward and back, using the momentum of his lower jaw to scoop him away from the cracked ground without having to clamp down too harshly on his small body. From there, he let his canines cage the boy's trunk as he lowered him to the ground.

"You have a death wish, boy?" he snapped. "A fall like that would kill someone my size."

""

table by Lowin art by kolokolchek

Wendigo Klein

Wendigo was delighted by the amount of pops and cracks the log was making now. If that noise and the bark popping off was any indicator he was getting close. The trick would be to get every last hop out of the log and then to leap off right before it fell into the chasm below. A simple, but, in Wendigo's opinion, surefire way to test anyone's skill. The jumper had to be able to read the log otherwise they were just gonna die.

Sensing the end was near, he slowed down considerably and stopped humming so he could concentrate better. Hop. A delightfully big crack caused the log to bow and Wendigo to squeal softly. This was it. Could he get one more out of it? He bent his legs and lashed his tail from side to side to psych himself up...and then he jumped.

Teeth were suddenly on him and he went flying upwards. With a happy squeal Wendigo threw out his arms to fly, but the ride was too short and he only got a half flap in before the ride was over and he was suddenly on the ground. Fully expecting the snatcher to be his mother, he whipped around and- oh hey that was not mom, just some random strange man he'd never met before. Oh well. "Yeah! Maybe dead is fun! Napping all the time, getting eaten, stinking. Maybe you can feel the maggots in your eyes." He wiggled his paws in front of his eyes for effect.

screams | actions

Table coded by Scarlet