Cabin in the Woods

Managed to get yourself into a spot of trouble, have you? Well, I suppose you'd better come in. Better than standing out in the rain. Duck your head. Elder Scrolls rp blog. Writer is 18+, may be NSFW. No crossovers, please.Sidebar image base by Luiza...

[grizzledwolf]

Dogs are easy to please on Saturnalia.  Elk bones for everyone.

[sacredtrials-deactivated2021041]

“So do you,” she noted, looking him over.

“And ma’am?” Ylva scoffed, almost in disbelief, “I really look like a ma’am?” she made a face and crossed her arms.

[grizzledwolf]

“Trying to be polite.  Didn’t mean anything by it.”  His voice was low and rough, but not necessarily gruff.  He scratched at his chin.  “Something else I can call you instead?”

[grizzledwolf]

sacredtrials started following you

“You’ve got the wolf smell on you, ma’am.”

[reachvanguard-blog]

A Night of Hunters

[reachvanguard-blog]

Did it want something? Rori couldn’t risk lowering the spear, but it seemed the wolf was trying to get a message across to her, draw an answer from her about the howl in the distance. She couldn’t tell what it asked, let alone what answer it wanted.

“Your pack? Then go.” She tried, making a gesture with the spear.

[grizzledwolf]

This was frustrating.  His hackles raised and he snarled in reaction.  He didn’t dare ease back from his form, even if he could figure out how to do so at will.  He didn’t spend nearly enough time in this form to know the ins and outs;  The wolf was a tool, but not one he liked to use very often.

And  besides.  It might have been hard to plan and think, but even in this form Bjarne knew that standing stark naked in the middle of the Reach wasn’t a good idea.

His nose twitched.  He could smell wolf coming closer, but not with any immediacy.  Probably wandering, trying to smell him out even as Bjarne did the same.  He dropped down onto his four, nose pointed in the direction the smell was coming from.  If this Reachman was skilled enough to kill a werewolf, she might be a useful ally.  And they had a shared purpose.  These members of his pack were too fargone;  If they would not be reasoned with and controlled, they would have to be put down.  And it was his responsibility.

He looked back at her, pointedly, and started off in the correct direction, keeping his gait slow to allow her to keep up.

[reachvanguard-blog]

A Night of Hunters

[reachvanguard-blog]

Her spear was out and ready before the beast was upon her, held out in front of her to take the brunt of a wild pounce and drive the point into its chest. But such a pounce halted, skidded, circled about her, and she found herself moving counter to it, spear between them.

That the man-wolf hadn’t simply dove upon her was a good sign that there was still some sanity left there, perhaps a pack member of the one she’d slain. Not yet feral, but older and not subject to a young-beast’s frenzy. That bode well.

It could also go poorly. Rori was half the creature’s height, or close to it. She was solid and stocky, and she could fight well. But against a creature blessed by Hircine? She would be lucky to escape at all.

The wolf seemed undecided on what to do. Let it. She backed away, spear at the ready. No sudden movements. No dash of fear. If it would attack her, it would do so of its own accord, and not because she looked like game.

[grizzledwolf]

He watched the way she backed off away from him, and he followed in slow steps.  Reachmen were notorious for ambushes, and if there was one of them, there were likely to be more.  Bjarne was not a cold-blooded killer, however, and though the beast in him urged him to dive upon her, to bite her throat and tear into her, he knew better.  The self-control was difficult, and he snarled even as he held his ground.

The forlorn howl of another beast diverted his attention, and he spun at once to locate the sound.  Faint, but not so terribly far away that he could not make it there quickly.  Another form his pack.  Perhaps this one he could salvage.  He didn’t dare return the call for fear of giving up his location.  He turned his head back to look at the Reachwoman;  Was she hunting the weres, too?  He turned his head in the direction of the howl, and then looked sharply back at her, as if to ask her the quesiton.

[bardofthewest]

An Encounter (Bjarne/Camille)

[bardofthewest]

“That’s a very Nordic name!” He smiled, beaming, “Ah! No, no, I don’t want you to go! That’d be rude, I think. You were just trying to be friendly!” When he mentioned that he was a hunter, Camille had to wonder, “I didn’t scare any of your quarry away, did I?”

[grizzledwolf]

“Of course it’s a Nordic name,”  Bjarne commented, torn between amusement and incredulity.  “What did you think I’d be called?”  He was willing to let that matter go, however, and shook his head in answer to Camille’s question.

“Was just out checking snares.  Doesn’t matter if you scared ‘em or not;  Caught is caught.  I could use the company, though,”  He offered,  “If you want to make up for it.  The noise, that is.”

[reachvanguard-blog]

A Night of Hunters

A sick, wet schlucking sound accompanied the pull of Rori’s spear, freeing it from the back of the man-wolf’s corpse. She’d tracked him a few days, waiting to see a change, a reversion to human or mer. But the beast was clearly tormented, stuck in its pitiful, violent shape. She had left Anluan behind tonight, and prepared for a mercy kill.

The slaying had been as clean as she could make it. She attacked suddenly, from downwind and behind. She couldn’t risk a bite or grievous wound. Luckily, she knew these lands better than most. It wasn’t too difficult to sneak up on the miserably feral creature.

The night was only still a moment before another howl cut the air. It had the tone and timbre of an animal much larger than a normal wolf. Another, so close? She didn’t pause to worry or wonder. She took off, looking for a higher vantage point to address this new threat. She could bury the corpse come morning’s light. For now, it was about survival.

[grizzledwolf]

He usually didn’t travel this far West.  His pack, growing though it was, had always been successfully contained within the forests around Whiterun and Falkreath.  Never before had one of his own traveled so far, and though he had been uneasy with the thought of leaving the rest of the ferals unattended, he’d ensured that they had all had a meal before he’d left.  Wolves were less dangerous when they were fed, and with any luck, they’d sleep for the next couple days and not cause any trouble.

He could feel the hunger himself now, however.  He’d eaten a little before he had left and had stolen from a hunter’s snare the day before, but there hadn’t been anything since.  He tried to ignore it.  It was easier if he focused on the feeling of the earth beneath his paws, or the sound of his own breaths.  Keeping his calm while using this form was a difficulty, but staying on scent and on task helped him keep his mind. 

And he was close, now.  He could smell the wolf’s matted fur, touched with blood.  His mouth salivated, and it should have disgusted him that he might relish the thought of feasting on his own mind, but the wolf inside of him was an opportunist.  He threw back his head and howled a single warning before he extended his gait from a lope to full on run.

He crashed recklessly through a gnarled tangle of safe and bramble, and he didn’t even pause for the thorns which nicked his skin.  He leapt from cover, jaws gaping, lips curled, and then skidded across rock and dirt when he realized his mistake.  He’d been so caught up in the scent of wolf, so dedicated to the chase, that he hadn’t even scented a human nearby.  And now, at the sight of her, he jumped to the side, yellow eyes fixed on her weapon. 

His enormous body was pressed low to the ground, and he slowly raised himself up on his hind legs to get a better look at her.  Larger than the withered ferals who stalked his woods, Bjarne was a mass of muscle and black fur, peppered with silver.  A touch of grey had started on his chin.  His shoulders and haunches were too bulky to be built from running and leaping, however, and there was a certain clumsiness to his actions which suggested he was not completely familiar with his skin.

A couple of yards still separated them, and he might have attacked if he had not again scented blood.  Wolf blood.  Far too much wolf blood.  The scent was too strong.  He gave a flick of his tail as he leveled his gaze on hers. It was hard to think of words in this form.  He meant to ask something, but the sound which came from his throat was a low, rumbling growl.

[bardofthewest]

An Encounter (Bjarne/Camille)

[bardofthewest]

“And you still didn’t give me your name!” Luca barked, punctuating her master’s point, “Really? You scrape people off the road? With a chisel or a shovel? That’s awful work!

But I digress, if you’re offering a place to stay, it’s awfully kind of you. But wouldn’t it be suspicious? I mean, I already told you I’m noble, how do I know you’re not just being nice because you won’t sell me to your bandit friends later?”

[grizzledwolf]

"If I wanted to kidnap you and sell your ransom, I could have already done it,”  He points out.  “Not like you were trying to be discreet.  How do you think I heard you in the first place?”  Still, he can understand being suspicious.  That was the kind of attitude that kept you alive.    He shifted his weight and crossed his arms.

“Name’s Bjarne.  Hunter.  Smith.  In a manner of speaking, anyway.  Don’t mean you any harm.  I’ll leave you be if that’s what you want.”

[bardofthewest]

An Encounter (Bjarne/Camille)

[bardofthewest]

“Solitude.” He answered with a smile, entirely too cheerful for his own good, a clever lie for the woodsman to buy, “And anyway, if I get robbed, that’s the least of my problems. I know I don’t look like it, but I can take care of myself.”

He looked the fellow up and down though, “You’re awfully concerned with my well-being, messere. I haven’t even gotten your name yet! I’m Camille!”

[grizzledwolf]

“Solitude,”  He repeated, voice flat.  “Sure.”  He didn’t believe him, but that didn’t matter.  It wasn’t his place to try and uncover other peoples’ secrets.

“I’m concerned because I’m tired of scraping people like you out of the road.  Bandits aren’t the problem here.  You still didn’t answer my question, though.”  He stepped closer.  “If you’re in trouble, there are answers other than running away.”  He paused for a beat.

“You need a place to stay?”

[bardofthewest]

An Encounter (Bjarne/Camille)

[bardofthewest]

“A lot of people like the idea of hounds but haven’t got the patience to train them, nor the money to hire a proper trainer. Lots of stories about poor frightened hounds mauling someone,” a sigh, “You’d think people would be more responsible.”

He shrugged, “I’m noble. Well, not an important one, my brother is. Someone would try and get to him through me.” The way Camille had said it, it was as if it was nothing to be worried about, a small hinderance, “Animals don’t care for titles or whatever bit of fluff the courts try to sell you, they’re a lot easier to predict that people, I find.”

[grizzledwolf]

“Or else they don’t give a shit who your brother is and would be happy to pick you up just for the clothes off your back and the money at your waist.”  Maybe he shouldn’t have been so dramatic, but something about this boy’s manner was careless.  Well-- Maybe not careless.  Naive.  He scrubbed a hand down his face and sighed.

“Where are you traveling to?”

[bardofthewest]

An Encounter (Bjarne/Camille)

[bardofthewest]

“Visiting for weeks, though I will admit, I’m not here every day, just whenever fancy takes me!” He smiles, “I know I don’t look it, but I can take care of myself, I’m quick!”

He pets Luca affectionately in return, “Our hounds can be a little unruly at first, they’re usually hard to train, and mostly because of their size! Luca here used to love running into and jumping on people when she got too excited, you can imagine why that was a problem,” Luca barked in response, “Now she knows how to control herself a little better. We’ve trained smaller dogs too! I’m surprised you managed to get yours so good!”

At his question though, Camille paused to think, “Not that I’ve seen. I’m more worried about soldiers snatching me up than angry wolves, to be honest. Why, have you heard something?”

[grizzledwolf]

“Why’d it be surprising that my hounds are well behaved?  Not many bretons who know how to train dogs where you’re from?”  He figured that the boy’s comment shouldn’t have rankled him, but it did.  At his command, both of his hounds lied down on the ground so he could hear what the lad was saying a bit more easily.  And, unfortunately, he didn’t have much of what Bjarne wanted to hear.

“Wolves are a bigger problem out here than soldiers,”  He admitted.  “The woods here are a bit wild.  Why would you need to worry about a soldier coming after you?”  He asked, and lowered his gaze to stare at Camille long and hard.  His voice remained soft and even.

“You in some sort of trouble?”

[bardofthewest]

An Encounter (Bjarne/Camille)

[bardofthewest]

“I can take care of myself, Luca’s just here for company,” well, it was partly true. Luca was technically there to guard him, especially since she had much better senses than Camille would ever possess.

“I always come to this little spot here, it’s relaxing, quiet, I mean, really you’re the only soul I’ve seen here in weeks!” In retrospect, Camille wondered if that was a good thing.

“Your hounds, are they yours? I’ve seen a lot of the Nords here have dogs like yours, but never so well trained!”

[grizzledwolf]

“Weeks?  You’ve been here for weeks, or you’ve been visiting for weeks?”  The news was starting either way.  Bjarne prided himself on keeping a close eye on his home, and he did tend to know the comings and going of everyone within it very well.  The fact that this boy had been visiting so long unnoticed was-- Well, not worrying.  He looked harmless enough.  Annoying, then.

He watched his hounds try to engage the mastiff and couldn’t help but grin at the boy’s praise.  If there was any quick way to Bjarne’s good graces, it was to compliment his dogs.  “They do their best,”  He mumbled, gruffly affectionate as he reached out to stroke one of the hound’s ears as she pressed against his leg. “And I need them well-trained if they’re going to work the woods with me.  Lots of things in the woods that’d like to take a bite out of either of us.  You seen anything?”  He glances sidelong.  “Anything out of the ordinary?”

[bardofthewest]

An Encounter (Bjarne/Camille)

[grizzledwolf]

@bardofthewest:

“C’mon Luca, let’s be nice now, yes?” And just like that, she calmed herself, it was clear the man and his own hounds weren’t a threat to her master, she’d behave.

“You’re right, my family breeds war hounds, they’re prized! You like dogs then?” Camille is grinning wide, friendly, “They can say hello, of course, Luca won’t do anything unless I tell her.”

“Good.”  He released his hold on the girls and they bounded forward, leaping around the larger mastiff like deer.  Bjarne watched them happily, and then turned his attention back to the Bard. “Breeding mastiffs isn't cheap.  You must be well off,”  He commented.  “And that means you’re doubly stupid for walking around here with just your dog.  Might as well be waving a money sack around by parading her around.”  He nodded to Luca.  “You with anyone?”

[bardofthewest]

An Encounter (Bjarne/Camille)

[bardofthewest]

Camille held his own hound back by the harness around her body. Luca was disciplined, she knew not to charge or attack unless ordered to, but she was tense and her teeth were bared, warning these intruders not to come any closer.

The young noble, however, was excited to see such friendly creatures for once, “It’s quite alright, ser!” He motioned for Luca to stand down, “Sorry, she’s just a little tense– guard dog, you know? Are you hunter? I was sitting here playing my lute, I hope I didn’t scare off your quarry!”

[grizzledwolf]

“Hunting,”  He confirmed,  “But we’ve bagged enough for the day.  We were just heading home.”  He rubbed his thumbs over the top of his dogs’ heads.  “Daggerfall Mastiff, am I right?”  He jerked his chin in the direction of Camille’s own dog.  “She friendly?  We might let them say hello, if you don’t mind.”

[bardofthewest]

An Encounter (Bjarne/Camille)

Camille always found solace in the woods. As cold as it was getting, the thick embroidered cloak kept him sufficiently warm. He strummed his lute along a quiet stream. Though the large red hound he brought with him relaxed, anyone with a trained eye could see she was keeping careful watch over her young master.

The lad stopped, frustrated, “Augh, not even my songs are coming to me,” he turned to the hound, “That’s really frustrating, Luca. Coming out all this way here, in this pretty little spot, and… nothing. I really shouldn’t call myself a bard anymore.” The hound blinked back, and Camille frowned, “Well, I’m glad you’re not complaining.”

He didn’t register the hulking figure approaching him until Luca starting making noise.

[grizzledwolf]

“Sage!”  He called out for what felt like the hundredth time in the span of five minutes.  “Chicory!” 

He often brought the dogs with him when he went to hunt.  Some of the other foresters preferred wolf crosses for this sort of work, but Bjarne had always felt there was no better companion than a hound.  They were far less likely to run off, and, perhaps selfishly, he liked the utter devotion and constant companionship.  Wolves were aloof.  Loners.

And so were his dogs, at the moment. He could hear where they’d run off to, and he was alerted to their location as they burst through the underbush, baying and wagging their tails.  The girls bounded around the enormous Bretic hound with overflowing enthusiasm, ears flapping, drool flying as they sniffed at the dog and her master.  They only came to heel as a Nord made his way through the trees.  He gestured sharply, and whistled for his dogs.  At once, they left the bard alone.

“Sorry they bothered you,”  He apologized.  “They don’t bite.”  He eyed the other hound with an appraising eye.  Not his type.  With his hounds in hand (quite literally, he was grasping their collars as tightly as he could), the woodsman studied the young man before him with some small measure of curiosity.

“You’re a bit young to be wandering out here alone.”

[grizzledwolf]

bonecrusherqueens

Chase me out, or deal with it.

Excuse me. Chase us out.

Not afraid of more than one of you.  Doesn’t have to come to fighting, is all.  

But if it does, I’ve got more than me, too.  It’d be a bloodbath.  Just move along.  I’ve nothin’ to prove to you.

[grizzledwolf]

He lurks beneath the trees, footfalls heavy.  You can hear him before you see him, snarled breaths, saliva dripping onto his paws.  He wanders madly, pacing back and forth as if rabid, ears laid back, teeth bared.  He’s worn a small furrow of a path into the undergrowth of the forest.

Control.  Control.  Control, control, control.