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May 27, 2018 22:26:05 GMT
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Post by ripple on Apr 12, 2018 22:57:26 GMT
I've always thought of roleplay as a still pond or scenic lake that is so still and untouched, with no wind blowing. Almost like a watery mirror, a glass surface that is so static. But it only takes one touch, one divine thought to send a thousand ripples jolting throughout the whole body of water. One word, one character, one sentence...and make the stillness full.- Ripple
CHARACTERS;;Rooster- (heterosexual, 4 years, Red heeler mix) a gruff and rather thorny brute who isn't afraid to speak the blunt and honest truth. Though at times he appears extremely critical and unfriendly, this guy is actually a peach. He's slow to warm, but don't let that exterior fool you. He's got a heart of gold, pure and simple. He's of great moral and ethical character and has an accent to beat all. He's like any hardworking rancher: serious, no-nonsense, but trustworthy and kind underneath all the roughness. He's a brave guy, not afraid to stand up for what he believes in. LOVE; Rooster can be awkward in his gentleness, but if he could find a lady who can see past all his gruffness, then I say go for it. He's a great guy, only wanting to help others and keep a level-head on his shoulders. He can come across as critical, but if there is a gal with tough enough skin, she might just find that kind and sweet-natured guy underneath. He's also loyal and trustworthy. FRIENDS; Of course. He's in the works making a friend and companion of Dharma, who needs his help. Rooster can't resist helping and he's easy to make friends with if you aren't a violent, raging destructor. He gets along well with most dogs, but don't forget! He's so blunt. ENEMIES; Obviously, a tough-guy with a heart gold can gather enemies too! I look forward to some enemies, as Rooster isn't the fighting type, but he sure isn't the type to back down either. If you got a problem with Rooster, it might mean your a bit of an unkind bully..but that's PERFECT. Drama is always good <3 FAMILY; Current working on a pack with Rooster called The Rangers. Keep lookin' for more updated information on this ^^ Open to all other ideas as well! Juniper- (heterosexual, 2 years old, Irish Red&White setter) A young little dog who has lost her family and been looking for them for a year now. She's a truly sweet, sensitive setter with an initial shyness with strangers. She believes herself to be an empath and is extremely wary of how others are feeling. She's very in-tune and another's mood can cause hers to shift! So if you're bad tempered or mean, Juniper may avoid your negativity. Positive, happy? She'll love you! Depressed, a little blue? You'll make Juniper cry... She's very curious, a dreamer, and very friendly once her shyness melts away. LOVE;; Nobody loves a romantic daydream quite like Juniper...The thought of falling in love terrifies and excites her. Imagine giving everything about yourself to another...Bloody brilliant. Juniper trusts easily, so I don't mind a serious love affair or a love where there's infidelity. Juniper can be easily hurt, but I see overcoming a bad love. FRIENDS;; Juniper is a social butterfly once you get over the fact she's a shy little moth in the beginning. She loves to be around others, but hark! She's sensitive to moods.... ENEMIES;; Of course, although who could make an enemy out of sweet like June? Who knows, maybe your character! Bat around some ideas. Maybe a scorned lover of a bad lover? Some love triangle drama? Someone wanting to pick on her, or pluck her up? Some devious male wanting to spoil her? LET'S TALK. FAMILY;; I will add to this later, but Juniper does have a mother and two other siblings. Possibly open them up as adoptables down the road? Who knows...Let's talk! c: Deimos- (asexual ?, 3.5 years, Black Shepherd cross) A hateful creature without a nice thing to say in the world. He is extremely withdrawn, vile, and aggressive. He does not make friends or have any patience, so not everyone is going to like this guy! He's moody and horrible, a real downer. He's had a bad past he's let rule his life, but he won't tell you about it, no matter what. He's kind of sinister and would down for doing things that others might consider morbid or awful. LOVE;; UHM, you may certainly try. But it would take someone more vile and more awful than Deimos himself to put up with his piss-poor attitude. I don't want to say NEVER, because you never say never, but changing this dark guy is going to take a mountain of effort, or you'll just have to be more violent and mean than he is to attract his attention. Any trysts or flings, we could talk about! Deimos fluid in his sexuality, since he truly lacks it, but you never know what this grim guy could do. FRIENDS;; More like tolerable acquaintances? If you can tolerate him... ENEMIES;; NOW we are talking. Deimos can make enemies fast, what with his aggressive nature and condescending attitude. He follows no rules and does what he pleases, so I could see this causing conflict in his life. A lot of others are going to hate Deimos, anyway, because he's rude and vulgar. So bring it on! FAMILY;; I am thinking of seriously offering Deimos' twin brother, Phobos up as an adoptable. If you go to Deimos' bio and read his history, you'll get a snapshot of their relationship and how Phobos was. If you would want to roleplay Phobos, just talk to me! I'm super up for that. Open to all other ideas as well!!
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May 27, 2018 22:26:05 GMT
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Post by ripple on Apr 12, 2018 21:58:21 GMT
This was a strange, new place to the red and white setter, so different than the life she had been leading for the past year.
It had been so long since she had entered a human dwelling, and none were quite so grand as this one. It was an enormous testament of human wealth, a hulking piece on the topography of the world. Vines crawled their way up ungraciously across the windows and the grand banister of the porch, blemishing its grandeur only slightly. It actually appeared more beautiful to the dog, because the wild and untamed was beginning to take it back over. Juniper was almost hesitant to climb up those steps and go inside, but the smell of another dog was too tempting for her to resist. And she could daydream about the mansion's beauty any time.
She thought maybe this new dog-scent was a long-lost member of her family. It had been over a year since she had seen her mother or siblings and she didn't even recall what their scent actually smelled like. It was a heartbreaking realization for the poor, young girl...but she couldn't let the scent go without launching an investigation. It could be her brother, Bramble. Or her sister, Fern...no wait, not Fern because the smell was decidedly male. But it could be Bramble. Surely she hadn't been the only one to get separated in that awful storm from the rest of the family?
With some caution in her steps, the setter mounted the entrance stairs quietly and continued up until her paws whispered lightly on the old boards. Her big, brown eyes were wide with wonderment as she crossed the threshold into the gloomy building, waiting for her eyes to adjust so that she did not stumble in to anything. She scanned the foyer, noting the layers of unmoved dust that seemed to cover all the furniture. She passed through a narrow hall way, her nails clicking softly on the long train of a velvet rug. The scent was getting stronger, much more potent, but Juniper still could not tell if the scent was her family or just some other lonely traveler.
Her brown eyes shifted to a large and expensive looking painting, a portrait of a pale and strange creature that could only be a human. Juniper herself had never been born around them, but her parents had. The thought of her parents made her feel a little tremor of excitement. Her mission was to see if she had finally found her brother. Right. Keep moving.
It was at the base of the stairs she saw the red and white dog and it was this image that caused the sweet setter's heart to hammer rapidly. Could it be him? He looked just like Bramble! Before gathering all the logical possibilities, Juniper felt her mouth parting to form a hail, her tail beginning to beat rapidly. A happy bark escaped her, a little happy whine that filled the old mansion. "Bramble? Bramble, is that you?" She dared to steal a few steps closer, her eyes glittering pleasantly. But, wait...Oh..She was never taller than Bramble.
This dog was just an inch shy of her own height.
A deep, red bloom of embarrassment smoldered across her mood. Scotia
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Post by ripple on Apr 12, 2018 18:35:23 GMT
Name: Rooster Pack Type: Pack/community Territories Wanted: Pemberton Vineyard, Graycott Prairie, Arak Mountains Sub Boards: Four for the vineyard, two for the prairie, one in the Arak Mountains Pack Name: The Rangers Purpose:
This is not a lawless land.
Sometimes, a loner notices these things and sits on it for awhile. And it doesn't sit comfortably, either, because you don't know if you wanna get involved or not. There's too many dangers out here in our new world, too many lawless dogs and other creatures that might just take this newfound freedom a little too far. Freedom is fine and all, but when you take that freedom to hurt others, that's when loners like me gotta step in and remind y'all there's a way to balance the world.
With freedom, comes great responsibility. The land is almost clear of humans, and while I may have been considered a pet by some in my old life, I'm here to tell ya know I was raised by a human man who taught me to do good, to see good, and keep the peace whenever I could. I treat others how I want to be treated and I don't infringe on the freedoms of others, lest those freedoms do something uncivil to another living creature of our standing. I was taught not to steal, not to attack the weak or take advantage, I was taught to survive but to do so with morals in my heart and thoughts in my head. I work with others, because numbers are greatest when combined, especially when faced with ever-present dangers of this place we call home. Wolves, coyotes, weather, humans, disease...they come in waves and I don't wanna see anyone face those kinds of things by their lonesome, do you?
To build a community like the one we had before, we need to stand together, not engage each other in senseless arguments, fights, and lawless activities. There's no sense in attacking each other, no sense in stealin', when the land and surrounding areas have more than enough to share. We need to respect the land, respect the dangers, and respect each other.
But I do abide by the old saying that if you do evil, it is all you shall receive. I want to put a stop to this chaos we are creating by over-using over freedoms, to keep those who might not agree with our way from hurting us. We will be The Rangers, the peacekeepers. We will help those in need, shelter those who need us, and fight only when evil does not back down. We will travel, gathering those who might agree with us and want to help. Those who want to rise up and create a place where we can live unbothered lives, a place where we don't have to struggle to stay alive alone. A sanctuary, a place to give back purpose, a group of dogs all joined by the same idea: Give, and you shall receive. Where everyone pulls their weight for the good of the group and where everyone's voice matters and their opinions be heard.
I ain't much of a leader, I won't lie to you. But I don't want to see those around me fall into trouble with no one around to help them because I chose to lead a selfish life. I don't desire power or control, I only want to see my brothers and sisters grow around me. I don't want to see others ripped apart by wolves, or tormented by ill-tempered humans, or even see another dog beat up on his own kind just because they are different or weaker. I don't wanna see us pilferin' or strugglin' because of our pride. I wanna see some spine, some true grit. I want to see bravery, kindness, and helpfulness. I don't want to ridicule the weak or punish the slow. I want to do right in this world. Sometimes doing good and doing the right thing aren't always pretty, either.
We won't make no trouble, but we don't take no trouble from those who would want to take advantage, to harm, or otherwise try and disrupt the harmony in which we seek to live. The lawbreakers best steer clear, because as a democracy we have made our laws and we stick by our guns. Those who do not abide by our rules in our land will be subject to trial and jury, to be punished fairly and firmly by their peers based on the heinous nature of their crime. Our jail is not a jail, but set of small cabins based at the foot of the Araks. If your offense is less than murder, we treat you fairly but make you work your sentence. We are just and abuse no power and mean what we say. Once you pay your sentence in sweat to the community, we set you free, hopefully having shown you what hard work and help can do for the heart.
We live in the Vineyard Mansion, where we hope to make wine like the humans once did. We don't do it for the monopoly or disorderly drunkenness, but so that we may have a trade for ourselves. We make wine through slow fermentation and are willing to trade it for other goods we lack, like medicines or furnishings. We also collect herbs to make medicine and try to raise game from the wild Prairie like bison, quail, and rabbit. We try and make hides and crafts. We do a little of this, a little of that. We just try to go on living, to work, and to help. We live off the land and make use of what we got. But that's my offer, take it or leave it. I'd love to have others who want to help like me, but if our way of living don't sit right with you, just make sure you go live your life away from our land, lest you be subject to our laws. We don't mind visitors to our community, but we expect the law of our land be kept.
Basis: A peaceful 'community' protected by the hierarchy of elected law-enforcement officials committed to giving everyone a purpose. A must-contribute type place where everyone has a respectable trade. Be it food, rocks, crafts...you do whatever it takes to make yourself happy. Think 'Old West Town'. You have those who make wine, or hunt, or collect plants...Those who heal, those make hides, or sell trinkets and baubles. We trade with other groups. Laws are set by the democracy and held up by a court and trial should you break them. Everyone in The Rangers' land are subject to the law, even if you aren't a Ranger yourself and just find yourself visiting.
The Rangers keep the peace and follow a law enforcement type hierarchy to protect the citizens of the land. We have no power grabs here: all enforcement officials are elected, even the Sheriff. The community is the heart and we believe in working and living together.
"True grit is making a decision and sticking by it, doing what must be done. No moral man can have peace of mind if leaves undone what he knows he should have done."- John Wayne
Once determined if its creation will procede, you will be responsible for creating rules and ranks and a description for said..pack,gang, mob, or cult within this board. A space will be made for all its correspondence.
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Post by ripple on Apr 12, 2018 17:34:34 GMT
Boy, wasn't this guy just somethin'.
Rooster felt an old sort of impatience with the blue-eyed fellow when he was yanked out of his memories by that condescending tone, that rising inflection of emotion. Sharply, Rooster flicked his eyes to the other's face and felt his brow crinkle up slightly. The furrows in his face did not disguise how the puerile dog was beginning to rub Rooster the wrong way. This white-furred fool wasn't about listening to good advice, it seemed, but instead this guy liked to argue. And to poke fun at a noble profession, in Rooster's opinion.
Rooster could argue a little, if he really wanted. But he didn't, he just listened to the stranger jab and poke, insisting on calling him Johnny boy, which Rooster found a little amusing and irksome all at the same time. He felt the nostalgia from earlier beginning to recede and now he felt exasperation. What a storm cloud this guy was! He knew every slang in the book for a bison, but couldn't comprehend his own mistake. Nor could he comprehend how mild Rooster was actually being, but it seemed even mildness could crank this guy's tail in a knot.
The mottled dog huffed out a sigh, his tongue rolling to form a sentence before the other guy imploded,"Hey, why don't you just take a breath for a minute, fella. No need to go and get in a twist." He narrowed his golden brown eyes, ignoring the threats the insolent dog was spatting out at him. "I used to be rancher and it's kind of my thing," he said steadily, but there was a warning to his tone that suggested the other just hush for a minute and listen. "There's an art to cattle, a way to make'em do what you want without nobody getting hurt. They don't make me teary eyed, I just have memories like everyone else does. Got myself caught in them for a minute. I don't care whether or not you try and harass them again. Like I said, they know how to deal with predators like you." He emphasized this again while following the white dog's gaze. The group of bison were no longer content and were beginning to grow restless and the icy-eyed dog was noticing it, too. The dogs and their shifting emotions were beginning to bleed over and have an effect on the herd.
Soon, they'd charge.
"I think, disagreements aside," Rooster said carefully, his eyes now watching the behavior of the herd. A large male was glancing over, pawing at the earth and shaking his massive head. The few new calves were now in the middle, ushered in by adult females twenty times their size. Big, black eyes full of bovine intelligence were gathered on the dogs. Rooster realized this was a harem, and the attention the male bison was giving them was not a pleasant sign. "Disagreements aside... I think we need to get ready to consider the possibility that these 'heffalumps' are gettin' pissed." Rooster wasn't wrong either, because now the bison were bleating, bellowing, and stamping angrily in unison. Rooster had been almost trampled a time or two in the line of duty, and those hooves were nothing to mess around with. The lead male had now swung himself over, his horns glinting in the sunlight. He was looking at the two dogs with challenge in his posture.
"No sudden moves," the cattledog warned. But how well the stranger was going to listen....Rooster didn't have much faith.
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Post by ripple on Apr 12, 2018 17:01:08 GMT
Rooster looked over the wasted creature again, his eyes drawn to that pile of grubs. They were half-eaten, twitching around in the dirt. It yanked on the chords of the mottled dog's heart and wrenched him in a way that he had not ever been wrenched before. Who was responsible for this girl? Surely she would have had some family to care for her? Rooster knew that if the master had seen a sight like her out here, he would have been furious. So, Rooster himself growing angry. Nobody was born without a family and Rooster wanted to shame hers, to tell them what assholes they were for not taking care of their own.
Her voice was soft, like the delicate coos of a dove. She wasn't used to talking loud and Rooster could tell that. She acted as if there had been some hurt in her life, the way she reacted to his blunt and chastising manner. He felt slightly guilty for coming down on her so hard, especially when she confirmed in that soft and wavering voice that she really couldn't see. She told him the prairie was easy to navigate and the cattledog saw her logic- it was flat, nothing but grass and gentle hills. But Rooster thought about all times when he and the master encountered venomous snakes, and some of those snakes did not rattle or make noise when you happened upon them. They were silent, quick to bite and some snakes were harder to scent than others. Not to mention coyotes and the likes...but Rooster held these thoughts back because the golden dog was speaking again.
And her speech shocked him.
She did not plead, but he could hear the desperation in her tone, the sort of tone you give that says one thing, but means another. She didn't want him to hurt her, but she expected it, anyway. Sympathy, so deep and raw cut the cattledog in two. He felt a sting in his eyes, but quickly blinked it back. The thought of hurting another? Especially one in need of help and without a friend in the world to see her through the darkness she was traveling in? It shook Rooster down to his cores, where strong morals always held up.
"Hey, I ain't gonna hurt you," his voice came out a little rougher from the emotion he tried to hide, "I wouldn't save no one from something like that just to try and hurt you myself. Ridiculous." He sat down while shaking his head, hoping to make his shadow less imposing on her. He did wince, though, not realizing how critical he always sounded. He didn't want her think he meant she was ridiculous,just the thought. Her milky gaze was fixed on her feet, avoiding him the best she could. She licked her lips in that parched way, her mouth making sounds of sticky thirst. Rooster knew where to find pools on the prairie and some prairies were even notorious for being wet with fertile soils for lush and copious plants.
"We need to get you some water," he said it awkwardly, as if unsure how to be gentle. He could be warm at times, but gentleness was always a little awkward from the red and white dog. He was very gruff and stern, but right now...This lady didn't need such roughness from him. "I won't hurt you. My name's Rooster. I could help you if you want, but I don't want you to be afraid of me. You need some water..You look spent and today's a hot one. Prairie lands are notoriously dry...but if you know where to look, you find a little water." He approached the subject of assisting her carefully, keeping his voice down instead of booming deep and loud like he usually did. He waited, watching her closely. He didn't want to offend her, but he wasn't about to leave her here, either.
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Post by ripple on Apr 11, 2018 18:17:42 GMT
He wasn't much for adventure and his choice of haunts seemed to confirm that fact.
The prairie was almost too much like home for Rooster to leave and it seemed like he would never make it beyond who he had been, even with his eyes and mind set for a new future beyond the golden grasses and loud odors of bison dung. He loved the way the sun beat down on his dappled frame relentlessly, his tongue rolling as he panted through the heat he was well conditioned to. He had met that crazy blue-eyed fellow out here and would have chalked that meeting up to pure chance if not for the bag of skin and bones.
Rooster wasn't under the illusion he was the only one to dwell out on the open plains, but it wasn't the best of choices for dogs who were used to towns and concrete, forests and streams...It was almost a challenging place, full of heat and hidden dangers. It wasn't the poor, half-starved creature that he saw first, but the two coyotes lurking the shadows, lingering at the edge of a small cluster of trees.
The cattledog felt instant anger at the two creatures even though they were canines themselves. He loathed coyotes because it was in their nature to be sneaky thieves, and the master had taught Rooster to drive them away whenever they came to the ranch. All they cared about was thievery. And murder. They'd kill a whole coop of chickens if left to their own devices and were known to take freshly dropped calves after the mother gave birth. It wasn't enough for them to take the placenta and they would lunge upon the helpless newborns, always in a group so they could distract the mother.
And murder seemed to be on the duo's minds as they eyed the weak and unsuspecting dog wallowing on the earth, a creature so frail looking that Rooster would have thought her expired if she hadn't spoke, her ears swiveling. Rooster heard the snap of the twig, a result of one of the braver coyotes stealing a little closer. The thieves hadn't noticed Rooster watching in the distance, more intent on the kill they were about to make than on their surroundings.
He couldn't stand to let them get any closer and rushed forward suddenly, his legs poised low but surprisingly fast. His golden brown eyes were locked sights on the head coyote, whose nose was twitching with such excitement it made Rooster ill. He felt red bolt of rage course throughout him, giving his muscles fresh stamina. Before the vile thing could make another step, the red and white dog exploded against him like a bullet, sending the wild canine rolling.
His partner, watching with fear and dawning horror as his friend was sent asunder, immediately turned tail and fled, leaving behind his brother and a stench of fetid cowardice. Rooster placed himself between the toppled coyote and the female dog crouched on the ground in submission, his face stony and eyes blazing with fury. He gave a warning growl deep in his throat, the hair along his nape rising to action.
"Get outta here, you filthy heathen. Go find somethin' a little more agreeable for your tastes, like bird shit!" He punctuated this command with a spat, sending a filmy string of saliva sailing at the coyote's feet. Shocked that such an easy attack had been interrupted, the wild thing didn't bother to offer a reply. Instead, he collected himself ungraciously to his feet, yelping when he stumbled over a root. He darted glances back at the mottled dog, feeling embarrassment. Anger and disgrace would come later, but for now he didn't want to pick a fight with a healthy dog.
Watching the vermin retreat, Rooster snorted with satisfaction. He then turned his attentions to the pale creature upon the ground and he felt some of his earlier rage fade. She was terribly underweight and was crouched in fear by a pile of half-eaten insect larva. It would have disgusted Rooster, but he understood the power of hunger and the things it would drive one to do. "Hey, miss. This ain't a good place to hang around. Those two were about to have themselves an easy snack." He stepped a little closer, his shadow falling gently over her.
She was a wee slip of a thing, bones poking sharply from beneath her fawn colored fur. His golden eyes were keen, scanning every inch of her. Her eyes, though not looking at the direction in which he was standing, seemed off-color and paler than normal. "What's the matter with you. You blind? If you are, you sure are plain foolish to be out here on the prairie." He sounded rather rough, but he was terribly afraid for this girl and it translated as scolding. How desperate she must feel, stumbling around in a world dazed by misty eyes?
WarPaint
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Post by ripple on Apr 11, 2018 4:29:11 GMT
He was still talking to himself! Rooster flicked an ear at such a peculiar habitat, watching and waiting for the northern bred dog to acknowledge he was no longer alone and had a very critical audience at his doorstep. Rooster eyed the other subtly, sizing him up just in case he wasn't just crazy. Crazy Rooster could navigate just fine, but he didn't prefer to keep company with those who couldn't take a little harping from time to time.
The stranger lolled around on the grass for a moment, one icy eye sliding open. It was then Rooster was finally noticed and the cattledog resisted the urge to spit on the grass to define his space on the prairie. He definitely wasn't like any other dog Rooster had seen, what with his piercing blue eyes and bright white fur. His demeanor was shifting too and Rooster could sense a cockiness in this fellow that urged the cattledog to be wary of him, should he decide that Rooster's brand of opinions were too sharp for him to take. Rooster could keep himself in check when needed, but a part of him wanted to deflate this guy's ego just a bit.
He was quick on the draw, shooting off to Rooster directly instead of taking on the defense. The mottled dog kind of admired that, his red lips drawing up into a half-grin. Rooster wasn't about to be outdone and shot back, "Actually, this mouth ain't nothin' compared to what my feet can do." He said it without arrogance and presented it as mere fact, reclining down on his haunches to sit and rest said feet, which were aching from a long day's wandering. He didn't need to prove anything to this guy and said so flatly,"I got more than enough sense not to go racin' into a herd of bison fresh with calves, son. I only happened by because I was hustlin' to see if the cattle needed help," his eyes were dancing with devilish laughter,"but I see they didn't need my expertise none. They know how to handle themselves around the clumsy likes of you. You ain't got the good sense the creator gave a rock. You never go for the spry and young. They'll outrun you, and if they don't, the momma is gonna run over you before you get the chance to sink your teeth in, especially when she's less'n a foot away!"
He made himself comfortable, despite sharing the company of a strange dog. He watched the bison resume their grazing, but he noticed a new vigilance within the herd. Their big, black eyes looked stupid but they were far from it. They were a unit, all brains uniting to make them efficient survivors. He detected a slight petulance in the white dog's voice but decided to ignore it and tone down his criticism,"Oh yeah. They look big'n clumsy, but they were made to move like lighting. To be a cattle driver, you gotta be quick on your feet. And you can't go bargin' in and expecting somethin' to happen. You gotta know how the herd moves together and you always stick to the edge, dart in and drive from the ankle without gettin' kicked." He felt the contempt slipping away to be replaced by nostalgia.
He missed his job at the master's ranch. He had been bred and born to move cattle and it had been his soul purpose on this earth. His master loved it too, and when he drove cattle for the master, he felt on top of the world. Though he was probably as old as the blue-eyed mischief maker, he felt ancient. Was it really so long ago that he been by his master's side? Being here now with this dog didn't feel real, it felt like a dream. He felt his mind drifting, lost in many happy memories.
And some sad ones, too.
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Post by ripple on Apr 11, 2018 3:19:56 GMT
The sun smiled down upon the reddish dog's back as he loped along through the golden grasses of the prairie, parting them carefully with his gentle gait and compact build. He sighed at the pleasant sensation of light as it warmed his tired back and aching shoulders, muscles made weary from the nonstop traveling he seemed to be doing as of late. There wasn't much he could do except travel, since his livelihood and work was now a thing of the past and his purpose in the world was now poorly defined. Rooster didn't like to dwell on what had been and instead tried to focus on what could be, but today it seemed like his past would resurface, whether his mind traveled there on its own accord or not.
As Rooster continued his lonely exodus to nowhere in particular, a rather familiar set of sounds in the distance caught his attention. The red merle cattledog paused, rooted to spot as his erect ears swiveled around to try and pinpoint the direction of the commotion. His weary eyes suddenly cleared, bright and alert now that instinct was beginning to draw him out of himself. The sounds in the distance were so familiar, because a dog like Rooster could never forget where he came from and the things he had been taught. His instincts, his origins...everything he was was centered around the meaning and duty behind those noises.
Cattle in distress.
The stout brute was no fool, however, and did not go rushing forward without caution. He carefully lowered himself into a stalking stance, proceeding with a swift, light gait that was well practiced from his time as a ranch dog. The grasses provided enough shadow to camouflage him and his dappled coat, moving as one with the wavering stalks of the golden grasses. He came to the edge of a gentle slope in the landscape, his angular snout poking out from the foliage. His deep golden brown eyes caught the blur of winter white. It was another dog and this dog was headed straight for a herd of bison, fresh with new calves. These bovines hadn't been the kind to grace his ranch, but Rooster was very familiar with the wild creatures so closely related to the ones master kept.
Rooster was also familiar with how cattle handled threats to their young. He was curious to see if this white blur of a dog knew exactly what he was getting into. Taking on a herd with calves was not for the novice, nor the faint of heart. The cattledog felt the hair at the nape of his neck rise, but he stayed still and didn't break position. He had an inkling the bovines had the upperhand and that his white, eager friend down there was inexperienced.
And as if to prove his hypothesis, the dumb creature actually started talking to the cattle. Asking questions, stalking around them and testing the distance. Rooster couldn't fight the urge to smirk, and allowed his hair to fall flat. What a rube! The other dog was excited by the prospect of his find and Rooster could feel it in the air, but he could also feel the rising distress of the herd. It was only a matter of time before they schooled this young moron in the fine art of leaving their babes the hell alone. Rooster snickered lightly, now content to recline on his haunches.
This would be an amusing show.
With disgust and mean amusement in his eyes, Rooster observed as the white dog plunged into the thick of the cattle, a ball of chaos and lacking the subtle grace the cattledog possessed himself. The deep, warning lows from bison touched the primal side of Rooster and he wondered if the white dog would back off; but no, he didn't. The reckless dog instead plunged without care, his open teeth gnashing for a calf.
"Big mistake, buddy." Rooster chuckled softly, his face serene. The mother of the calf charged him, bearing down on him with horns sharper and more deadly than any tooth in a dog's head. "Oooweee, that's gotta hurt," the cattledog cackled quietly as he watched the female bison gore the white trouble maker, sending him off with a great amount force.
Rooster watched as the white dog gained some air, his eyes sparkling with humor as he watched the stranger beat a hasty retreat away from the herd. Rooster couldn't resist any longer and began a slow pursuit of the stranger, walking swiftly but in no hurry.
He trailed the white dog to a knoll resting gently above the herd, listening to the stranger mutter to himself as he splayed along the ground in exhaustion. Rooster kept some distance between him and this new guy, but his voice had no problem traveling.
"Boy, that was the saddest display of cattle herdin' I have ever seen in my life," he tried to come off scathing, but he couldn't keep the contempt out of his tone. "I mean really, son. That was the dumbest damn thing I have ever seen. Where the hell you from, 'cause you obviously don't know how nothin' works out here in the pasture. You never mess with calves, especially if they are in the middle of the herd." He shook his head, disapproving. "Even coyotes got more sense than that."
Rooster wasn't one to make friends easily and it didn't help he was so blunt.
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