Post by Bhaskar on Oct 22, 2010 13:23:07 GMT -7
Cast:
Sri (Dhole)
Lakshmi (Golden jackal)
------
Winding Stream
The stream, which feeds in turn into Nishpaksha lake to its South, experiences extreme shifts in response to the seasons. During the dry season, this wending waterway dries up to a shadow of its wet season self, a trickle of muddy water. Small bushes and other scrubby things encroach down into it, blurring its edges. In contrast, the wet season turns this dessicated streambed into something that is almost a river, the water foaming chocolate brown with dirt and debris, sticks and larger things caught in the stream's sharp bends. Overlooking the stream to the west is the brow of the Guru boulder.
------
Sri has begun to feel a bit -- depressed. He's been travelling for some time -- he'd been quite certain the tigers would be in the area to the north of the pine forest, but he hadn't found any. He's looking rather disheveled, not at all his elegantly groomed self, and his head is low as he heads east from the Guru boulder towards the sound of the stream.
They've been around Nishpaksha since the attack, she and Bhaskar, but today Lakshmi has abandoned it to head up in a more northerly direction. She paces the stream, paying an idle sort of attention to its banks in case a fish or a frog should present itself as an easy meal. She was not involved in the battle, and so she's not looking particularly ruffled or bad, but Sri's not the only one to be feeling a little stressed. It's obvious in the position of her ears and tail, especially up close, but her ears rise somewhat when she sees movement out in the western plain. She halts, watching it. Too small and red to be a wolf. Dhole?
Scenting the water now, Sri quickens his pace, his stride going longer and more purposeful. He moves at a quick clip now, hoping for something dead to snack on, maybe. He doesn't usually go for carrion, but he's tired and hungry right now. He lifts his head to scan the area, and in so doing sees -- and then smells -- the jackal. Of course, this far away Lakshmi could be any jackal. But maybe /any/ jackal might be able ot point him her way. He calls out, a short, yappy call -- as generalized a greeting as he can make.
And Sri, from where she's standing, could be any dhole! But perhaps she's thinking along the same lines that he is: they could be part of the same clan. Does Sri even have a clan? She knows he's got pups, but not, she realizes, anything beyond that. She returns that wordless greeting with a cry of her own and starts to move again, drawing closer.
Well isn't this terribly personable! Still, Sri's hopeful. He comes to a halt a few yards away from the jackal, ears pricked. "Jackal! I know you?" he could certianly be a little more confident, couldn't he? "I've been looking for you. We need -- more information?"
Yes, it /is/ Sri. The jackal's tail wags, once or twice, and she retorts: "I believe I could say the same, dhole." Her response is friendly, almost playful; as ever so slightly on-edge as she's felt lately, she'll take a chance to set that aside if she can. Unfortunately, it seems that she won't be able to. "Information?" Lakshmi adds, her tail going still. That can only be one thing. Ah.
Sri can't fail to notice the shift in attitude. Even as anxious as he is, he feels a bit bad; his ears tip back and his tail droops. "It sounds as though you've had to do plenty of talking about that, haven't you?"
She flicks an ear dismissively, but that brief almost-lightness has gone from her face. Yes, she has. Sometimes it feels as if she does nothing but talk about the Ran Garjana, as if she and Bhaskar exist only for this new war now--and he may be content with that, with never breathing an unnecessary word to anyone, but Lakshmi is a more social animal and meeting other canines, even so fleetingly, has made her aware that she's missed quite a bit. /Will/ miss quite a bit, over the rest of her life. "What do you need to know?"
Sri eyes the jackal. "Well, if there's anything we should be doing to -- protect ourselves? Against -- well, knowing what against properly might be a start." Tired, he flops onto his haunches.
"Of course," Lakshmi agrees with a sigh. She's not old, not really, but neither is she young anymore and she quite looks her age just now. "I assume you've not heard about the attack down south, by the lake--three Ran Garjana tigers caught up with two very unlucky adolescents. They're growing more bold." She glances right, and down, watching the stream for a long moment. "I'll be blunt, Sri: if they were to assemble en masse and head for the mountain, there's not much that you or the wolves could do. But it holds little value to one big cat, let alone an entire clan of them, as a territory or a strategic position. Your best protection may be to just stay where you are." Of course, she can't say that definitively. She's approaching it from a logical point of view, and there may not be any logic to the Ran Garjana.
"No, I hadn't! I've been under a rock, frankly. What are you and your tiger going to do? What's /your/ role in this? It seems to me you are everywhere at once, and I don't really understand--" there's a growl at the edge of his voice; the dhole is growing frustrated. Does Chiti know any of this? Boy, he's feeling stupid.
Her ears sink back, at that. When Lakshmi glances up again her expression has closed itself off, disconnecting from his frustration before she can respond to it in kind. "My role," she says quietly, "is whatever it needs to be. They number at least half a dozen, likely more, and Bhaskar is one tiger, but I assure you that we are /working/ on it."
"Well I wasn't asking if you were working on it, I was just -- I don't quite understand how you got involved and what--" so he's frustrated -and- curious. Sri glances over his shoulder. He's - gotten /some/ information. But there's a good deal more he's wondering about now. "Are there other Do-Rakhanaa involvd in this?"
"There will be." Lakshmi is silent for a time, her ears still angled back. "As for how we got involved in this mess," she says eventually, wearily, "would you believe me if I said that a little bird told us about it?" Well, a not so little bird.
"Was it really accidental?" Sri glances over his shoulder again, tail flicking a few times, but doesn't make a move to go. "Well that's--" /swell/. "Regretting getting involved with a tiger a little?" despite his weariness, he's teasing. "Will you be in this area for long?"
"Accidental? No. There is--quite a bit of history between the three of us." Herself, Bhaskar, and the bird, that is. Lakshmi doesn't offer to recount it; it's hardly necessary information, unlike any movements the Ran Garjana might make, and she's recounted so many things already. "Nevertheless, I don't know how long we'll be here. Why?" She's on the verge of adding, if we learn anything, we'll contact you, but stays her hand. A statement like that could either sound sincere or bitter, and she quite thinks it would sound bitter right now, and, well, that would answer his previous question rather nicely, wouldn't it? Even if it's the Ran Garjana she's resenting, and not Bhaskar.
"Oh! I was just wondering. I don't imagine you have a great deal of free time, but I'm sure the pups would be interested in meeting a jackal." Sri shoots Lakshmi a grin, half-apologetic, but only /half/. He's friendly! Although-- "Since it's just the two of you, I imagine that you -don't- have time, though."
Honestly, they probably have more time on their hands than Sri is envisioning. The old adage about battle consisting of nine parts waiting and one part fighting is truer than one might think. "Your daughter seemed quite interested in me, the first time we met," she agrees, "but--" Either she has more tact than Bhaskar, or is less sure of herself, because Lakshmi trails off with a vague flick of her head rather than complete the thought: she'd be intruding.
Sri gives the jackal a doggy grin. "She's interested in /everyone/. And she's never met a tiger before. I told her they were as big as three dholes and she was terribly impressed." He's perking up a little, and whuffs a laugh. "If you're in the area, drop by."
She hasn't? Sri must have another daughter, since she remembers Sajala being eager to approach Bhaskar. In a way it's odd to think about all of these individuals she talks to as having their own lives, with their own families and outlying networks. They've all got mates, children, friends. She and Bhaskar are very much on the fringe of society. Does he ever feel this way? Probably not. He's a cat, and not even a lion. A more appropriate question may be whether or not Sakshama ever felt this way, but she'll never know the answer to that. "I'll leave my tiger at the arch," she promises, "unless you'd prefer I bring him in."
Sri considers. "I don't want to attract unwanted attention to us, and it might if you bring him in -- but on the other side of things, we might get it anyway, and Daya would be thrilled." He swishes his tail. "Leave him at the arch and we'll come meet him!" decisive and quite pleased.
She refrains from commenting on that unwanted attention--this is--it's something different. It sounds almost like a break. Lakshmi is unsure of how to treat it, but she doesn't want to dismiss it either. "Very well," she agrees, which is a rather serious-sounding declaration to his pleased one. But then she adds, "I think he's quite a bit larger than three dholes, though," and her ears have lost some of their tension.
"Just a touch," Sri agrees. "I'll tell her maybe /four/." He laughs and flicks his tail. "Well. I hope we'll be expecting you then." He's sounding -much- more energetic than he had at the start of the conversation. "I'll start heading back and let them know what you've told me. Thank you!" and off he goes, tail at a cocky angle, ears a-twitch.
Sri (Dhole)
Lakshmi (Golden jackal)
------
Winding Stream
The stream, which feeds in turn into Nishpaksha lake to its South, experiences extreme shifts in response to the seasons. During the dry season, this wending waterway dries up to a shadow of its wet season self, a trickle of muddy water. Small bushes and other scrubby things encroach down into it, blurring its edges. In contrast, the wet season turns this dessicated streambed into something that is almost a river, the water foaming chocolate brown with dirt and debris, sticks and larger things caught in the stream's sharp bends. Overlooking the stream to the west is the brow of the Guru boulder.
------
Sri has begun to feel a bit -- depressed. He's been travelling for some time -- he'd been quite certain the tigers would be in the area to the north of the pine forest, but he hadn't found any. He's looking rather disheveled, not at all his elegantly groomed self, and his head is low as he heads east from the Guru boulder towards the sound of the stream.
They've been around Nishpaksha since the attack, she and Bhaskar, but today Lakshmi has abandoned it to head up in a more northerly direction. She paces the stream, paying an idle sort of attention to its banks in case a fish or a frog should present itself as an easy meal. She was not involved in the battle, and so she's not looking particularly ruffled or bad, but Sri's not the only one to be feeling a little stressed. It's obvious in the position of her ears and tail, especially up close, but her ears rise somewhat when she sees movement out in the western plain. She halts, watching it. Too small and red to be a wolf. Dhole?
Scenting the water now, Sri quickens his pace, his stride going longer and more purposeful. He moves at a quick clip now, hoping for something dead to snack on, maybe. He doesn't usually go for carrion, but he's tired and hungry right now. He lifts his head to scan the area, and in so doing sees -- and then smells -- the jackal. Of course, this far away Lakshmi could be any jackal. But maybe /any/ jackal might be able ot point him her way. He calls out, a short, yappy call -- as generalized a greeting as he can make.
And Sri, from where she's standing, could be any dhole! But perhaps she's thinking along the same lines that he is: they could be part of the same clan. Does Sri even have a clan? She knows he's got pups, but not, she realizes, anything beyond that. She returns that wordless greeting with a cry of her own and starts to move again, drawing closer.
Well isn't this terribly personable! Still, Sri's hopeful. He comes to a halt a few yards away from the jackal, ears pricked. "Jackal! I know you?" he could certianly be a little more confident, couldn't he? "I've been looking for you. We need -- more information?"
Yes, it /is/ Sri. The jackal's tail wags, once or twice, and she retorts: "I believe I could say the same, dhole." Her response is friendly, almost playful; as ever so slightly on-edge as she's felt lately, she'll take a chance to set that aside if she can. Unfortunately, it seems that she won't be able to. "Information?" Lakshmi adds, her tail going still. That can only be one thing. Ah.
Sri can't fail to notice the shift in attitude. Even as anxious as he is, he feels a bit bad; his ears tip back and his tail droops. "It sounds as though you've had to do plenty of talking about that, haven't you?"
She flicks an ear dismissively, but that brief almost-lightness has gone from her face. Yes, she has. Sometimes it feels as if she does nothing but talk about the Ran Garjana, as if she and Bhaskar exist only for this new war now--and he may be content with that, with never breathing an unnecessary word to anyone, but Lakshmi is a more social animal and meeting other canines, even so fleetingly, has made her aware that she's missed quite a bit. /Will/ miss quite a bit, over the rest of her life. "What do you need to know?"
Sri eyes the jackal. "Well, if there's anything we should be doing to -- protect ourselves? Against -- well, knowing what against properly might be a start." Tired, he flops onto his haunches.
"Of course," Lakshmi agrees with a sigh. She's not old, not really, but neither is she young anymore and she quite looks her age just now. "I assume you've not heard about the attack down south, by the lake--three Ran Garjana tigers caught up with two very unlucky adolescents. They're growing more bold." She glances right, and down, watching the stream for a long moment. "I'll be blunt, Sri: if they were to assemble en masse and head for the mountain, there's not much that you or the wolves could do. But it holds little value to one big cat, let alone an entire clan of them, as a territory or a strategic position. Your best protection may be to just stay where you are." Of course, she can't say that definitively. She's approaching it from a logical point of view, and there may not be any logic to the Ran Garjana.
"No, I hadn't! I've been under a rock, frankly. What are you and your tiger going to do? What's /your/ role in this? It seems to me you are everywhere at once, and I don't really understand--" there's a growl at the edge of his voice; the dhole is growing frustrated. Does Chiti know any of this? Boy, he's feeling stupid.
Her ears sink back, at that. When Lakshmi glances up again her expression has closed itself off, disconnecting from his frustration before she can respond to it in kind. "My role," she says quietly, "is whatever it needs to be. They number at least half a dozen, likely more, and Bhaskar is one tiger, but I assure you that we are /working/ on it."
"Well I wasn't asking if you were working on it, I was just -- I don't quite understand how you got involved and what--" so he's frustrated -and- curious. Sri glances over his shoulder. He's - gotten /some/ information. But there's a good deal more he's wondering about now. "Are there other Do-Rakhanaa involvd in this?"
"There will be." Lakshmi is silent for a time, her ears still angled back. "As for how we got involved in this mess," she says eventually, wearily, "would you believe me if I said that a little bird told us about it?" Well, a not so little bird.
"Was it really accidental?" Sri glances over his shoulder again, tail flicking a few times, but doesn't make a move to go. "Well that's--" /swell/. "Regretting getting involved with a tiger a little?" despite his weariness, he's teasing. "Will you be in this area for long?"
"Accidental? No. There is--quite a bit of history between the three of us." Herself, Bhaskar, and the bird, that is. Lakshmi doesn't offer to recount it; it's hardly necessary information, unlike any movements the Ran Garjana might make, and she's recounted so many things already. "Nevertheless, I don't know how long we'll be here. Why?" She's on the verge of adding, if we learn anything, we'll contact you, but stays her hand. A statement like that could either sound sincere or bitter, and she quite thinks it would sound bitter right now, and, well, that would answer his previous question rather nicely, wouldn't it? Even if it's the Ran Garjana she's resenting, and not Bhaskar.
"Oh! I was just wondering. I don't imagine you have a great deal of free time, but I'm sure the pups would be interested in meeting a jackal." Sri shoots Lakshmi a grin, half-apologetic, but only /half/. He's friendly! Although-- "Since it's just the two of you, I imagine that you -don't- have time, though."
Honestly, they probably have more time on their hands than Sri is envisioning. The old adage about battle consisting of nine parts waiting and one part fighting is truer than one might think. "Your daughter seemed quite interested in me, the first time we met," she agrees, "but--" Either she has more tact than Bhaskar, or is less sure of herself, because Lakshmi trails off with a vague flick of her head rather than complete the thought: she'd be intruding.
Sri gives the jackal a doggy grin. "She's interested in /everyone/. And she's never met a tiger before. I told her they were as big as three dholes and she was terribly impressed." He's perking up a little, and whuffs a laugh. "If you're in the area, drop by."
She hasn't? Sri must have another daughter, since she remembers Sajala being eager to approach Bhaskar. In a way it's odd to think about all of these individuals she talks to as having their own lives, with their own families and outlying networks. They've all got mates, children, friends. She and Bhaskar are very much on the fringe of society. Does he ever feel this way? Probably not. He's a cat, and not even a lion. A more appropriate question may be whether or not Sakshama ever felt this way, but she'll never know the answer to that. "I'll leave my tiger at the arch," she promises, "unless you'd prefer I bring him in."
Sri considers. "I don't want to attract unwanted attention to us, and it might if you bring him in -- but on the other side of things, we might get it anyway, and Daya would be thrilled." He swishes his tail. "Leave him at the arch and we'll come meet him!" decisive and quite pleased.
She refrains from commenting on that unwanted attention--this is--it's something different. It sounds almost like a break. Lakshmi is unsure of how to treat it, but she doesn't want to dismiss it either. "Very well," she agrees, which is a rather serious-sounding declaration to his pleased one. But then she adds, "I think he's quite a bit larger than three dholes, though," and her ears have lost some of their tension.
"Just a touch," Sri agrees. "I'll tell her maybe /four/." He laughs and flicks his tail. "Well. I hope we'll be expecting you then." He's sounding -much- more energetic than he had at the start of the conversation. "I'll start heading back and let them know what you've told me. Thank you!" and off he goes, tail at a cocky angle, ears a-twitch.