An Incidental Dibbun-Napping
On the banks of the River Moss, a scrappy band of vermin seeking out food finds a bit more than they bargain for. Except for Coaxoch. He still found lunch, most likely.
Participants: Aibne, Mint, Vannon, Jaksor, John Wesley Weasel (spoofed), Coaxoch, Ferilla ''''
(OOC note: There were two poses before this that I lost. It was essentially Aibne, Mint, and some NPC otters walking along the river, gathering food. Mint had just called out "Flowers!")
There is a rustle in the tall grass by the stream, not too far downstream from the otters. A slender grey fox, dressed in a pair of dark trousers with a bright red vest over his chest stalks the grass like a lion stalking zebra. Vannon tests the string of the bow in his paws, notching an arrow to it. It's been a while, a long while since he used one, but it feels good to be armed with something other than the knife at his belt again. The fox watches a wood pigeon fly by, he lifts up his bow, pulls back the string and waits...waits...and then lowers the bow as the bird flies out of sight. With a grunt of disgust at his missed meal the fox picks himself up and moves onward, trying to remember where he left his comrades...
"Flowers!" That's a strange outcry, Jaksor thinks to himself, a ways upstream from the little otter dibbun, about halfway into the water. The polecat is wearing just his breeches, bent low over the water, his hook submerged as he waits for a fish. At the call, he straightens up, glancing downstream and spying the ottermaid. From the opposite bank, John Wesley Weasel appears to have spotted her as well. "Looka-dat!" he hisses to the larger beast, who nods in reply. "Quiet," Jaksor murmurs, staying the weasel with an outstretched paw.
Blowpipe in hand and a poison-tipped barb clenched between his teeth as if it were nothing more than a bit of grass for chewing on, Coaxoch prowls along behind Vannon. He hadn't intended to follow the beast, but after happening upon him, he decided to stick around and see if he was any good as an archer. The lizard shakes his head; apparently he's not going to find out. Carefully slinking up behind Vannon, Coaxoch grunts to the fox, "Ssshould take ssshot. Every ssshot fox not take isss missss."
Her jacket and sword tossed on the back, Ferilla is in the river a bit upstream from Jaksor, attempting to do her fair share and catch a little food. Though she's had little success, she keeps at it, careful to not disturb the riverbed too much and spook any fish that Jaksor might be more capable to catch further down. Her ears perk at the cry of the otter dibbun, and she glances down towards her boss and the scruffy Weasel, making sure they heard it. When she's sure they did, she backs carefully towards the bank, not splashing in the current.
Aibne is beside some other otters as he chats and hands one the watercress “I know where some berry bushes are as well, little ways doen the path" So he and another otter go down a path to the berry bush, the path further down a path away from the river.
Mint is busy picking the yellow flowers and counts them "1..2..3....5..6...4..." Hey she is a dibbun after all so she can mis count if she wants to. She giggles as she sees a butterfly and chases it a little ways "Fly..fly..come backs.."
Ah to be in the age of innocence again. Vannon remembers that age well. So young, so wide eyed with awe at the world around him. At least until so many of his family were eaten by fox eating beasts. It was almost absurd the sheer amount of cousins, uncles and aunts that Vannon lost to eagles, snakes, and of course, lizards. It left him...distrustful to say the least. And while Vannon was at least reasonably sure that his fellow bandit lizard was not going to murder and devour him at night, it still shocks him to see the beast appear...right behind him...and never knowing where the beast came from.
"Oh sweet merciful light!" The fox screams out as he turns and very nearly launches an arrow into the lizards skull. It is only due to quick reflexes that the fox manages to send the arrow above and over the beast, flying free into the woods behind him.
Why are things suddenly so noisy? It was a perfectly peaceful afternoon, and now there's a dibbun chattering away, and what sounds sufficiently pathetic to be Vannon shouting in the bushes. It's all beginning to grate on Jaksor just as quickly as it started. Following the shout, an arrow comes darting out of the sky and sinks into John Wesley's haunch. With a shriek, the weasel clutches at the new protrusion. "You shoot John Wesley! Stream-dogs shoot John Wesley!"
Is he that terrifying? Well, Coaxoch certainly likes to think so, but he would prefer that other beasts he's working with keep their heads enough that they don't send an arrow through his eye! With a hiss he falls backwards as the bow lurches towards him, the arrow just barely missing his head. He's suddenly very thankful that he didn't clamp his teeth down too hard on the poisoned barb in his mouth; that's not something he particularly needs to swallow. In his strained state, his frill has fully extended, a ragged red wreath around his head as he glowers at Vannon. "Ssstupid fox!" He pulls himself back to his feet. "Ssstupid!" He was just about to aim a punch at Vannon's arm in the exact same spot he hit him last night, but
John Wesley's screams fill the air. Nobeast but John could sound that annoying. "Going to follow sssound. You follow, but no being ssstupid again!" And with that, Coaxoch is trotting towards the source of John Wesley's outcry.
The ermine's head turns quickly at Vannon's yell, mumbling something under her breath as she too recognizes the voice. Making her way towards the bank still, she whips around as John Wesley cries out, seeing the shaft that seems to have sprouted from his leg in a most unnatural manner. Her paw darts to the small of her back, drawing a short curved knife in a reverse grip, scrambling up onto the bank and trying to meet Jaksor's eyes to silently assess the situation, then peering into the grass to find out what in the world is happening.
Aibne is still collecting ripe berries with a couple other otters, and he is out of sight of the river bank. Usually his sister stays fairly close and he knows she would run if she needed him, and he is sure she watched where he went right?
Mint looks around as she has followed that butterfly a good ways off and she jumps at the scream and looks around and whimpers. "Aibne?" she asks quietly and sniffs as if about to cry, she is a fair distance from those berry bushes.
Aibne happens to look down and frowns "Mint?" Yeah now he notices she is away from him and frowns, he can only hope she went back to camp.
The fox seems to shrink, clutching at his bow tightly to his chest. He could hear the telltale cry of his fellow comrade taking a hit from what he really, really hopes are woodlanders. The alternative is... Vannon swallows, beads of sweat forming at his brow. He nods to the lizard and follows along, his tail wrapped about his legs from sheer nerves. "Jaksors going to kill me...and turn me into gravey...jaskor's going to kill me and turn me into gravy...Jaksor's going to kill me..."
John_Wesley continues to screech, collapsing onto the riverbank and clutching frantically at the arrow-shaft sticking out of his thigh. Jaksor, unimpressed, has turned back to face the side of the bank Mint is on. "Blast'd fools been messin' with th' traps f'r days," he mutters, wiping his hook off and moving quickly out of the water, ducking behind a tree trunk in case there are more otters waiting to open fire. "Get over 'ere," he hisses across to Ferilla, as they're noticeably short on bows of their own.
Running towards the source of the continued screeching, Coaxoch almost stumbles over the otter that's many times less than his height. But as it is, he sees the tiny brown object just in time to let out a triumphant outcry before reaching down and trying to grab her up by her rudder, intending to hoist her into the air and give his prize a good shaking. Regardless, he's elated with the tiny quarry he's stumbled upon. "Haha! Look what Coaxoch found! Tiny tiny otter!" He lets out a gruesome hiss. "Plump!" No doubt he's been loud enough to be overheard by anybeast who isn't currently screaming.
Mint lets out a loud, ear hurting scream and wiggles and kicks and screams loudly. Fear in her eyes as she tries to escape and she is failing badly!
The fox expresses only surprise as the otter dibbun is thrust high into the air, kicking, shouting and biting at the lizards paw. "What in the...blazes! Put that back! You don't know where it's been!" The fox growls, staying away from the dibbun as far as he can. Dibbuns...he never liked dibbuns. "Wait, did you just say..." The fox narrows his eyes. Right. CANABLE. Rubbing at his eyes Vannon tries to remember if he still has enough of a soul left to condone such a thing. On the one hand, otter dibbun. On the other, otter dibbun stew. And on yet another hand, big scary lizard he does not want to get into an argument with out in the woods. And yet, on the the forth hand Vannon really needs to bring something good to the table after shooting John. "Er...why don't we show the otter to boss first. You know, giving tribute to your chief and all that. Alive. And not eaten?"
Ferilla chooses to ignore her leader for now, working her way up the bank into the grass, straightening up enough to see Vannon and Coaxoch. "What're you two boneheads.." she sees the wriggling dibbun and lots around frantically for some sort of otter rescue party bearing down on them. "Well don't jus' stand there, git down here!" she hisses, motioning them over. "And shut her up!" She indicates the dibbun with her knife. Any otters still around could clearly see the three of them on the bank with the otter girl, and probably heard John Wesley as well.
You know what? That works. That works just fine, since the otters don’t seem to have continued firing. Just that one lone arrow... odd. Jaksor can see the lizard pick up the dibbun, and
Ferilla's gesturing. "Back t' camp," he calls, loud enough for them to hear but vague enough not to broadcast where 'camp' is. They can discuss this turn of events and plot their next move. John Wesley has finally quieted down, but he's still sniveling on the bank, tugging at the arrow.
The otter manages to land a bite or two on Coaxoch's arm, but it fails to do too much damage to his tough scales. He hisses at Mint and gives the otter a rough shake by her tail, looking as though he's seriously considering just stabbing her with the poisoned dart right then and there. He stares at Vannon, confused, as if he's wondering what possible reason the fox would have for not letting him butcher the dibbun. Bringing up the boss makes Coaxoch narrow his eyes. "Coaxoch would ssshare ribsss with bossss... but fine." Giving in, he folds his cloak over the dibbun like it's a makeshift gunney sack, then hears the call to return to camp. With the dibbun muffled in his cloak, Coaxoch starts to walk back to the Guosim camp, leaving Vannon to follow along if he pleases.
Vannon follows the lizard and in turn the ermine, laughing nervously at the lizards remark. A small part of him wonders what Otter's taste like, but the rest of him knows that they have just screwed up most royally. Otters are like shrews when it came to protecting their own. They will come at them in force if they ever find out they kid napped one of their own. Heaven knows what they would do if they found out they ATE one of them. A small voice inside the fox's head also told him that he wasn't a complete and horrible no good rotton monster for stopping the lizard from eating an otter welp. So...maybe there was something actually redeamable about the fox. Not enough to risk a fight in telling the lizard to drop the otter and let her go of course. "H-hey guys? I'm going to stay back a while, make sure we are not being followed..." And give himself a reason to let the whole 'shooting John in the rump' blow over for a few days before heading back. "Carry on without me. I'll...be back when I can be." The fox takes a step backward and dashes into the bushes, vanishing like a beast with experience to do so.
Ferilla slides down the bank again, grabbing up her things and slinging them over one shoulder, making after the lizard to get out of there. She couldn't much care less what Vannon was up to, as long as it didn't involve ratting on them. Which was a distinct possibility, really.
The fox steps lightly away from the party, putting as much distance between himself and the wrath of his employer. Little did the vermin know that he walks right by the hiding place of a small river beast. This part of hte river had always been a good spot to hide and avoid all those troublesome chores back at the village and snack on some shrimp from the local fishing cages, even when the otter started to grow out of the age where it could still be considered cute to do so.
A season away from adult hood, the brown furred otter slinked away from his hiding place. Slowly at first, then gaining speed as he ran all the way back to the village. Maybe he wouldn't be scolded this time with the story he was going to be telling them...
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