It's cold, and the snow flecks across your pelts like a dash of fine sand, only sand is warm, not cold, and it doesn't sting your muzzles with an aftereffect.
Twofeathers wraps his blanket around him tight again. "I don't know -why- I have to be on this trip. It's not like I can hunt to save my life, and both of you have accused me of scaring all the game away."
An exquisitely beautiful snowflake flutters down to land on the nose of the panthress next to Twofeathers. Mackerel smacks at her nose as if stung by a bug. "Yeah. I agree."
Twofeathers shivers again. "By the Maker, it's too cold." The young wolf perks up, the frozen feathers hanging off his left ear banging him in the side of his head. "You agree? Can we go home then?"
Mackerel scowls at the cub, "'Course not! You gotta suffer more first. It's the rules!"
Twofeathers bites his lower lip, teeth chattering. "Mackerel, -your- winter coat works f-fine. Mine still feels f-frozen from th-that trip in the river."
"Builds character," the feline says, as if that justified everything. "Gotta have lots of character to do.. whatever it is you're supposed to do later in life. If you survive, that is. Surviving's important. Ruins your score if you die, right?"
Twofeathers grits his teeth. "Sides, this is a hunting ritual, n-not a test on whether the Spirit of the P-polar Bear is with you. Already know m-my guardian totem is R-raven."
A quiet rustle and Pathwalker is back, looking concerned. "Can you two keep quiet? There is a camp of soldiers over the hill."
The hunter bends over to examine some tracks in the snow.
Twofeathers ahrs. "I'm gonna just m-make your sc-score worse."
The soldiers number no more than perhaps four to ten; Twofeathers managed to walk over the trail -and- drag his blanket across part of it. A wagon?
Mackerel hides her frown. "Soldiers'll scare game away worse than you, Twofeathers." To Pathwalker she asks, "How many?"
Pathwalker hmms, "I only saw three."
"Sober?" the hunter asks.
Twofeathers blows on his hands. "So, now what? Do I get to chronicle a brave tale of daring three-on-three odds, spears against flintlocks?"
Twofeathers sneezes. Loudly. Snow falls off the nearby tree.
Twofeathers covers the end of his muzzle.
"No," Mackerel says, "You get to catch rabbits with a special trick that only you are capable of performing."
Pathwalker sighs, "No scent of alcohol on the wind. They are huddling for warmth. Much like someone we know."
Twofeathers looks dubious. "We're running away? Did I 'see' them?' The young wolf is the team's 'chronicler', supposedly impartial, but he's responsible for your score...
Caring little for the chronicle of things, Mackerel goes back to examining the rabbit tracks.
Pathwalker hmmfs, "They have afire to keep them warm, very much like the one we don't have." He's in a grumpy mood, seeing the easterners more comfortable than his own group.
Mackerel's tail lashing three times, "Heh. Melt the snow, then you'll be cold and wet too, and scare off everything to boot." She starts rummaging around in a pouch.
Twofeathers shivers. "A fire. Ah, I'm freezing just thinking of it!"
"We gotta go on further anyway," the hunter says. "Walking will warm you up, you'll see."
Twofeathers mms. "Which way are we...
Click.
Pathwalker shakes his head, "I've built fires in the snow before Mackerel, but yes, we need to move on. What shall we do about the visitors....?"
Mackerel crouches down in the snow, looking back the way Pathwalker came. "Shh!"
The ominous sound of a rifle. On the side opposite the Indians, two Union soldiers have the trio covered.
Twofeathers grits his teeth, and moves his hand under the blanket, slowly.
Pathwalker, annoyed as he is worried, pulls his knife from his boot and looks for cover. At this distance, the easterners rifles are not very accurate.
"Nhar ah moof verom eiffar othu!", the one says, in what's probably English. "Ai!"
The soldier proves otherwise, putting a shot in the ground at Pathwalker's feet.
Mackerel looks to Pathwalker. "Got medicine to get us out of here?" she hisses, "I don't think we can run."
Twofeathers grins toothily. "She's right. They'll gun us down before we've got ten paces. Not a way t-to end a tale!"
"Maybe we should talk at them, eh?" the hunter suggests.
Pathwalker growls, "My mother goes more for healing wounds than preventing them. So what do you suggest? I'd rather die than be taken prisoner by them. I can't understand them, can you?"
Twofeathers shakes his head. "Not me."
Mackerel shrugs, "What's to unnerstand? Soldiers is all stupid anyway." She leaves her weapons on the snow and stands up slowly to face the Union soldiers.
One of the soldiers starts slogging slowly down the snowy hill towards the trio, the other keeping you covered. "Tar din yhar wrrrplans."
Twofeathers sighs and pulls his hands out of his blanket, showing his hands, empty, and shivering for a brief moment.
Pathwalker scowls, but stabs his knife in the snow in front of him, and drops his bow on the ground and also stands.
The nearer soldier motions the three of you to back up, slowly.
"Yeah, whatever Mr. Rifle Guy," Mackerel says in a friendly tone, and starts backing the others up.. and a little to the side. Might as well get the nearer one between them and the other.
Twofeathers slips in behind Mackerel, stumbling to do so.
Pathwalker licks his fangs nervously, then backs up. Futilely he says, "We're out hunting game. Why bother us?" He notes what Mackerel has in mind, and nods.
The soldier taps one ear briefly with a hand before returning it to the rifle. Apparently he doesn't understand.
Twofeathers trips and sits down hard in the snow. "My feet are f-frozen."
The soldier higher up snickers.
Pathwalker shakes his head, "Wonderful, we can both gibber at each other. Only difference is easterners usually shoot what they don't understand."
Mackerel thinks this means the soldier is deaf from using his rifle too close to his head, so she says louder, "YEAH! HEY, WHAT DO YOU WANT? I GIVE YOU LITTLE CUB FOR RIFLE, OKAY?"
"Ya fool engun kahn nor eef setay on feirt, is scart."
The sudden volume startles the closer of the two soldiers.
Twofeathers says, "Hey, I'm not -that- little..", Twofeathers protests, being a scant year younger."
At least, not like that brat, Longtail, at four years younger than Mackerel.
Pathwalker sighs, "Shouting louder won't help him understand you Mackerel."
Mackerel turns enough to say to Twofeathers, "Little until you hunt, right? Then you can grow up."
Twofeathers grins toothily. "Well, you going to help me up, big kitty?"
The huntress hmms at Pathwalker's wisdom, and tries talking slower instead as she helps up Twofeathers. "So, what you soldier-guys want out here in snow?"
The one soldier seems to interpret Mackerel's body language and attitude, and grins, showing yellowed fangs.
Shots ring out from over the hill, in the direction Pathwalker came.
Pathwalker's ears flinch at the sound, and his eyes look towards the hill.
Mackerel smiles to Twofeathers and palms his little gift. She keeps her hands behind her back as she turns to the soldier. "Oh, you with those other guys with the fire?"
The soldiers startle, the farther one lowering the gun and going into a defensive crouch, the nearer one whipping his rifle neatly in the wrong direction as he turns towards the sound.
A wolf howl splits the air, followed by more shots.
The pantheress hmms. "We're going to go now, okay?" She gestures with her tail in a direction away from both groups.
Pathwalker watches Mackerel, and guesses the loss of a knife and a bow isn't as bad as being a captive.
Spooked, the near one brings his rifle to bear..
The hunter starts sidestepping off to the left. "Nice to meet you. Take care. Don't shoot self in the head and all."
Twofeathers launches himself at the shepherd, aiming for the legs.
Mackerel yipes, and dives to grab the rifle barrel. Don't want it pointing at anyone.. or going off and getting those other yoyos another check on their location.
Twofeathers misjudges the leap, and crashes into the ground at the soldier's feet, kicking up a spray of snow. The rifle goes off as Mackerel grabs it, the shot blowing a tiny bit of wood off the nearby tree.
Pathwalker rolls and dives to grab his knife, then flips into a crouch to face the soldier.
The wolf howl is joined by another, and the shots over the hill grow more sporadic and seemingly desperate. Someone's shouting.
Mackerel growls and tries to get the soldier back between them and the other one, even if it means pulling him around by his gun barrel.
Pathwalker looks up just in time to see the soldier up on the hill retraining his rifle on the struggling trio. Twofeathers has a hold of the soldier by the leg, and is getting a couple of kicks in the face and chest for his trouble. Mackerel wrestles with him for the rifle, and right now it's a dead even match.
Pathwalker moves in while Mackerel distracts the solder and presses his knife against the soldier's belly, a clear warning while keeping the soldier as a shield. He purrs, "I have a feeling our chief is going to have a talk with us."
"Draw him off!" Mackeral yelps.
Twofeathers yelps as he gets kicked squarely in the nose, rolling away to his left and colliding with Pathwalker.
That's all the clear shot the beagle needs. He takes a quick sighting, raising the rifle to his shoulder level, and...
Mackerel shifts her weight. Instead of trying to pull the rifle away, she yanks down in an attempt to stick the muzzle into the ground.
..promptly falls over.
Pathwalker nearly tumbles himself, and then blinks as the other soldier drops?
The shepherd pulls the trigger with an empty -click- and then shoves the rifle hard into Mackerel's chest.
"Ooff!" The panther goes down with the breath knocked out of her.
Pathwalker then turns back on the first soldier with his knife. He motions uphill or points at himself, as if giving a choice.
The shepherd looks at the knife, and at Twofeathers, getting to his feet as well, then back over at his fallen comrade. And bolts, running for it.
Rubbing her chest, Mackerel spits, "What's going on now? You shoot the other one, Pathwalker?"
A howl is Mackerel's answer. Four wolves appear at the crest of the hill above the fallen beagle.
Twofeathers hisses, his breath coming out white. "Apachii. Out of the frying pan.."
Mackerel recovers the knife that Twofeathers gave her earlier and passes it back to him, "Get your stuff, time to GO."
Pathwalker is looking around for the best way to leave and hmms, "So, you two ready to make a new running record?"
The other panther runs for the treeline instead of answering.
Twofeathers takes it, backing away. "Yeah... I'll say we subdued one..and..." The wolf has turned, and is pointing at six more Apachii coming up from the other side of the hill. Probably the source of the shots.
Pathwalker grabs at Twofeathers and moves to quickly catch up with Mackerel.
One of the wolves fires a rifle into the air. "We would have words, young ones!", he says cheerily. "Unless you don't wish to make your Long Journey.."
Mackerel sighs at the sound of the shot, and stops short.
Pathwalker stops at the shot, panting.
"It was a dozen Apachii wolves, each of them a mortal enemy for our tribe.", Twofeathers says. "But, they'd found the Union scout and the Confederate soldiers such easy pickings, they felt in a sporting mood."
'Didja get killed?', the turtle asks. "Stupid, of course not, he's here now, isn't he?" 'Oh.'
Twofeathers grins, tapping his cane on the ground. "Now, now, never ever call someone stupid, Jaysen."
"The Apachii told us that we'd done well to survive without our weapons. And that we had the right to finish off the last soldier, to prove our blood."
"And so they proposed a contest; we had one knife between the three of us. We'd have a half-hour head start while they cleaned out the wagon left by the soldiers, and when they caught up with us, if we'd found and killed the last soldier, we'd be free to go. Otherwise, it was us they'd be having sport with..."
Twofeathers grins. "But. That story will have to wait till tomorrow."
"Aaack!" 'Awww..'
Twofeathers shakes his head. "Sorry, children, but it's bedtime.. for me."