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Welcome to Vagrant
We are a feral dog game set in Japan, based off the Ginga Nagareboshi Gin and Ginga Densetsu Weed manga/animes (though you do not need to be familiar with either in order to play here!). You can read more about the game here. If you already have an account, login - otherwise feel free to create an account and join us!

Mort

Mort

Member Since Dec 14 2009 03:00 PM
Offline Last Active Jul 24 2015 01:31 AM

In Topic: Holding Hands With the Devil

Jul 24 2015 12:46 AM


Why should it matter, your dreams of a child?

Innocence is gone. Only fear to play with


{{OCC: }}



Faces are changing, but nothing is changing the pain

Too late




”If you are sure you can manage, sir. No, sir, you wouldn’t get in my way. I was only worried about you, but if you say you are strong enough… I’d love to learn from you.”



Mort could feel the reeling in of his prey. When he had first met with Rocco there had been a few obstacles in his way; the first, and most noticeable, being the German Shepherd named Star who had been conversing with the younger dog as he, the good ol' Jack, came across them and introduced himself like a proper gentleman. He could not help but wonder if she had felt something amiss - something she couldn't quite put her finger on - as he had appeared, a stranger to most of Ohu, usually known to others through vague whispers in the night and never by his true name. A mere concept riding on the wings of hushed tales told to unruly pups. But Mort had managed to hook the fish, and now all that remained was to land it and gut it till all that remained was the bones representing the new and reborn Rocco. "I'm glad to hear it," Jack said with a warm smile. "It makes me happy to know that there are still those who care for their fellow dogs - if only there were more of you..." His voice trailed off and he gazed across the river. Perhaps if there had been more of them, Mort as he was would never have been born.



”Well, I don’t hunt like most dogs. I don’t use my fangs or my claws, I use rocks. I’ve learned how to kill birds, rabbits, fish…but larger animals, like deer and boar are too hard. I’m not even to the shoulder of most boar! To think I could even pierce its hide… Do you have any experience with those, Mister?”



Indeed, the technique that Rocco described was unlike anything Mort had ever seen or heard of before - a good-natured chuckle escaped his throat, and he nodded. "Good. That resourcefulness must have served you well - and hopefully it'll continue to serve you well for many years to come," Jack turned to his young disciple, watching as Rocco picked up a rock with his mouth in demonstration. "It doesn't much matter how you do it, as long as the end result remains the same - in this case, a meal to silence your stomach. However, while using rocks as your weapon of choice might be fine for smaller prey, it would hardly work for bigger game..." Mort raised his head and sniffed the air, moving slowly along the riverbank. A little further down the river the water began to flow with increased strength, eventually crashing into some large and sharp boulders just before a smaller waterfall - he peered down the edge and saw how the flow soon returned to its former, leisurely pace. Again, Mort began to sniff the air and followed the scent he had previously caught a whiff of.



"If you wish to catch anything larger than a rabbit or a pheasant, you'd do well in observing your surroundings and use anything you can find to your advantage," Jack continued, glancing towards Rocco. "Can you smell that? A lone deer, not far away. If we surround it, we can herd it towards the river, and then I'll show you what I mean." As they came closer to the source of the scent the deer came into view and Mort crouched low, advancing to the one side of the animal with movements more akin to that of a feline than a canine, as the blades of grass softly brushed against his dark, glossy fur. He kept his eyes peeled on the cervine grazing unawares a few feet away, making sure that his and Rocco's positions were in perfect harmony before he leapt, snarling with saliva dripping from his jaws. The black German Shepherd was not intimidating by traditional means, yet his thin, eerie body managed to frighten foes and prey alike. With some skill, and a little bit of luck, they would lure the deer into the river without much difficulty.



Word Count: 701

Table picture by: dyet