Post by rice on Jul 28, 2008 15:06:04 GMT -5
Evening falls over the island. A lone creature pads along out of the desert, his tail hanging low and his head near the ground. He is an Iranian, a desert wolf, but he appears to have been in the sand a little too long even for one of his species.
The night breezes are beginning to pick up, enough to interest the wolf..he appears to smell something. Yes, he does. Water. The Iranian picks up his pace, trotting quickly to cover ground and pricking his ears. Although he still carries his tail low and seems very subordinate, he definitely shows some interest in what is going on around him now.
Still, even he can't keep the pace for long. The wolf flops down in the dirt, sniffing at the short grass that is beginning to grow up. He stares up at the darkening sky, panting slightly, then drags himself upright and moves on.
He is called Rice, a loner, and obviously he has no idea where he is. The Iranian has been traveling for days in the hot desert, and was hoping that if he went far enough north he'd find water. Well, he could smell it up ahead. Lots of it, probably a river..that would mean fish and things to eat, as well as liquid.
Rice pauses, smelling something odd. It appears to be an old, stale scent marker from a wolf..female, Alpha. The Iranian frowns thoughtfully. Evidently these had been pack lands at one point, although no wolves had been around for a while. He probably wouldn't have any problems with them, if there was anyone around.
Nevertheless, the wolf decides to err on the side of caution. He raises his head and howls a short message, about all he can do without a drink.
"Rice is here!"
The sand-colored wolf continues on.
He kicks up the red dust that is on the ground as he comes to the river, his ears pricked. It is running low, due to it being midsummer and very hot. Rice barks once, pleased, and trots down to the riverbank.
He can almost cross it at this time of year, walking on baked mud and then wet mud. The Iranian finds a small pool of muddy water, although it's empty and even he isn't thirsty enough to lick the grit out of the bottom of it. Still, that means he's getting closer to where the water is.
Night has fallen completely by the time Rice comes to where the water is flowing. He approaches the water carefully, casting nervous glances around to look for predators and other wolves. Rice knows that all the animals will be coming here to drink..deer, camels, maybe even the wolves he heard before.
He tenses, hearing a series of barks ahead, and crouches down in the rough grass. It is only a few foxes, though, as he finds after listening for a moment. The barks have no words he recognizes in them..the foxes speak a bizarre dialect of their own. Rice pads over to the water, growling slightly at the small desert canines as he comes. They scatter.
Rice drinks, careful not to have too much, and pads away again. Time to get some rest, away from the river. He doesn't want to be snuck up on while he sleeps.
Strolling through the grass, Rice comes upon another scent marker. He pauses, smells it, and find that it's as old as the last one. The Iranian continues on, then freezes.
There, in the moonlight, is another wolf. He can't tell what kind or even whether it's a pack wolf or not, but there it is. Also, there, is himself, and if he can see this wolf than the other one can definitely see him.
Rice immediately cowers on the ground, attempting to look appeasing, and starts glancing around for an escape route.
"Hello."
Maybe he can run if he tries..although, having just drunk, it's probably a bad idea..
The night breezes are beginning to pick up, enough to interest the wolf..he appears to smell something. Yes, he does. Water. The Iranian picks up his pace, trotting quickly to cover ground and pricking his ears. Although he still carries his tail low and seems very subordinate, he definitely shows some interest in what is going on around him now.
Still, even he can't keep the pace for long. The wolf flops down in the dirt, sniffing at the short grass that is beginning to grow up. He stares up at the darkening sky, panting slightly, then drags himself upright and moves on.
He is called Rice, a loner, and obviously he has no idea where he is. The Iranian has been traveling for days in the hot desert, and was hoping that if he went far enough north he'd find water. Well, he could smell it up ahead. Lots of it, probably a river..that would mean fish and things to eat, as well as liquid.
Rice pauses, smelling something odd. It appears to be an old, stale scent marker from a wolf..female, Alpha. The Iranian frowns thoughtfully. Evidently these had been pack lands at one point, although no wolves had been around for a while. He probably wouldn't have any problems with them, if there was anyone around.
Nevertheless, the wolf decides to err on the side of caution. He raises his head and howls a short message, about all he can do without a drink.
"Rice is here!"
The sand-colored wolf continues on.
He kicks up the red dust that is on the ground as he comes to the river, his ears pricked. It is running low, due to it being midsummer and very hot. Rice barks once, pleased, and trots down to the riverbank.
He can almost cross it at this time of year, walking on baked mud and then wet mud. The Iranian finds a small pool of muddy water, although it's empty and even he isn't thirsty enough to lick the grit out of the bottom of it. Still, that means he's getting closer to where the water is.
Night has fallen completely by the time Rice comes to where the water is flowing. He approaches the water carefully, casting nervous glances around to look for predators and other wolves. Rice knows that all the animals will be coming here to drink..deer, camels, maybe even the wolves he heard before.
He tenses, hearing a series of barks ahead, and crouches down in the rough grass. It is only a few foxes, though, as he finds after listening for a moment. The barks have no words he recognizes in them..the foxes speak a bizarre dialect of their own. Rice pads over to the water, growling slightly at the small desert canines as he comes. They scatter.
Rice drinks, careful not to have too much, and pads away again. Time to get some rest, away from the river. He doesn't want to be snuck up on while he sleeps.
Strolling through the grass, Rice comes upon another scent marker. He pauses, smells it, and find that it's as old as the last one. The Iranian continues on, then freezes.
There, in the moonlight, is another wolf. He can't tell what kind or even whether it's a pack wolf or not, but there it is. Also, there, is himself, and if he can see this wolf than the other one can definitely see him.
Rice immediately cowers on the ground, attempting to look appeasing, and starts glancing around for an escape route.
"Hello."
Maybe he can run if he tries..although, having just drunk, it's probably a bad idea..
