[PRP] Ensnare [Cross, Never]

[Scaramouche Fandango]

Crossed Call was looking for something, but if you'd pressed him, he wouldn't have been able to tell you the object of his search. It was that compulsion within him, that nameless need that drove him to search for things like his father was rumored to be. Perhaps what he was seeking was redemption, or vindication, or justification; but right now, he was just searching, roaming the swamps and not paying attention to territorial boundaries.

He let the sights and scents of the swamp overtake his mind, blocking all introspection. He knew that something, somewhere in the mire was watching him, but he didn't think that it posed any personal danger to him. No, what was challenging here was something in the environment itself. There was an electricity to the air that made him feel both frightened and alive, all at once. No, not frightened, he thought. Awed. He didn't believe in destiny, but it was clear to him that he was meant to be here. Something about this place felt dangerous.

He liked it.

Treading cautiously and quietly, he stopped for a moment near the blackened husk of a long-dead tree, intending to listen and look and scent, all the things a good tracker did. But the tripline was well-hidden, well-enough to snatch him off his hooves and give him an unusually upside-down vantage point. He let out a yelp of confusion and momentary panic, then forced himself to be quiet so that he could think his way out of the trap as he wondered who or what could have set it.  

[theCorniest]

It was only natural for the place to have developed an air of danger and tension - this was, after all, the home of a very dangerous doe, whose presence left all but the most innocent of foals tense and worn down. The doe who reigned here, who spent her days fine-tuning traps and adjusting the terrain to unsettle the foot, cultivated that atmosphere like some cultivated plants.

The master of this garden of unease was actually relaxing with her beloved eaglehound, laying somnolent in a rare patch of sunlight. She had not long to enjoy this luxury, however, before there came a sound in the middle distance. Lazily, the doe and the eaglehound cocked an ear to it. After a brief pause, the doe hauled herself upright with a sigh. "Kin, my dear," she said, as though the hound needed telling. "Let's after them."

The doe and her hound split not far from their quarry, hiding in the brush on opposing sides. They crept forward stealthily, to see what it might be. What a sight it was - a buck strung up in a tree by all four hooves, a body-long shock of brown hair suspended by gravity in a comical expression of surprise. Indicating her hound to remain still and unseen, the doe slipped out of cover and into easy sight. She looked casually up at the buck though her bangs. "You appear to have hit a snag, sir," she said with sardonic amusement, overlarge canine teeth making her smirk all the more unsettling.  

[Scaramouche Fandango]

"Indeed I have, miss," Crossed Call said after wildly casting about for the source of the voice. "I knew I had a bad feeling about this place, and I can certainly see why." He craned his head around to get an upright image of her, more than just white teeth displayed in a darkened muzzle. While the mare's eyes were obscured beneath a flopped-forward black mane, he could see from her posturing she wasn't too concerned by his predicament. Was she amused by his flailing? It seemed that way. Was this her trap? He wouldn't be surprised. This was no natural occurrence, after all, and something about the doe's eyeteeth made him wonder. While he mentally castigated himself for making presumptions based upon appearance- not all darkness was sinister, after all, and while a lynx or hound had ferocious teeth, their nature was often more akin to tortoise than crocodile- he justified his suspicion with his situational location. Being suspended upside down, after all, was not a position he was used to! "I regret the admission, but you do have me at quite the disadvantage. If you'd be so kind as to get me down, I'd be more inclined to properly introduce myself.".  

[theCorniest]

She tilted her head and considered the depended buck's request. Well, more like his demand, really- he didn't even say please, did he? Perhaps it was forgivable - he seemed to be fairly eloquent, maybe a gentleman who was simply taken out of his element? Most of the kin she'd caught in her snares had certainly been far less articulate. Maybe this buck wasn't one of the bad ones, which meant she might not need to kill him.

With rather less conviction than she needed to really convince him, as she had with several others, that she knew all of their secrets, she asked him the usual question anyways; "Don't you think you deserve to be up there?"  

[Scaramouche Fandango]

It certainly wasn't the answer he had expected, but it wasn't an unwelcome answer entirely. Taken aback for a moment, all the buck could do was think and blink. But after a moment's reflection, he had to admit that it was through his own fault he was momentarily inverted.

"Yes, I suppose I do," he said at length, pursing his lips. "As I hunted the hunter, I failed to fully consider the hunter's own hunt, leading myself down a primrose path which ended in me being the hunted. A juvenile mistake, I assure you, Miss, and one that I shan't soon repeat. I suppose this unfortunate situation simply serves to entrench me in the lesson my father never bothered to teach- that is, to never assume the darkness won't affect you, too. In this case, it clouded my mind to the point where I could not recognize- oh gracious. I'm sorry; I did not mean to be so terribly pedantic about it, Miss." His words, as sibilant and smooth as he'd hoped they'd sound, came out choppy and breathless, interspersed with grunts as he strained to free himself. The snare was a good one, set by one with much practice, and his struggles were largely for naught. A tendril snapped here and there, but as he could not get his teeth 'round the bulk of the vine, he couldn't break free.
 

[theCorniest]

In response, the dark doe let out a surprisingly bright laugh. Oh, goodness, but this one was amusing - how he did talk! Still chuckling, she said to her captive, "Alright, then - lesson learned well enough, I think. Judgement," she called to her hound, "it's time to set this one loose. And gently," she added, casting a look that was part growing smoulder and part cold assessment up at her prey - for prey he still was. This was simply a different game, now.

The hound and its master crossed under the suspended buck to the place the trap's main vines were tied, which was a surprising distance behind him. There was a bit of a pause, and then the bundled buck began a slow, jerky descent to the ground. He would be laying in a shallow pool when he touched down, but the inconvenience would be relatively brief.  

[Scaramouche Fandango]

The buck rose to his feat, shaking himself carefully as so not to spray either the doe or her eaglehound companion with the fetid water. Smiling slightly, he declined his head to her as a sign of respect.

"And now, I must introduce myself. I confess that being upended did distract me from my manners. My appellation is Crossed Call, son of Signal, who I must confess never informed me of his own father's name. I must apologize for finding myself in your snare, and equally, thank you for releasing me so graciously, Miss." He appraised the doe carefully. Dark pelt, sleek mane, fangs of a predator- was she what cast such a long shadow on this land?

If so, she was a doe worth knowing.

Kitty Sprightt

OH HAI CORN

 

[theCorniest]

Standing clear of Cross' shake-off zone, the dark doe met his appraisal head-on, unblinking and unflinching. He seemed to be impressed with what he saw, and that suited her just fine. With a smirk, she set to pacing slowly around her buck, subjecting him to her own intense, but silent, scrutiny. Her steps were completely silent, and her dark eyes just barely visible through the fall of her hair. Her hound kept pace with her on the opposite side of Cross, boxing him in.

"You were much better mannered than most," she said after walking half a circle around him. "Most kin caught in such snares lose themselves entirely to panic." It could be inferred that she did this often, then. "You've done exceptionally well, thusfar."

Seeming satisfied after completing two circuits, she came to a halt, and her hound came to sit by her side. She decided that a little gentle teasing was in order. "I shall tell you my name... Never," she said with a smirk.  

[Scaramouche Fandango]

Cross spoke again with a quirked eyebrow as the doe and her hound circled him. He watched her carefully, not moving- he stood in place, darting his glance between the slatey female and her pale-colored companion and subjecting them to the same intense investigation as they were him. He clearly wasn't meant to leave yet- but then, he had no interest in leaving. Not yet.

As she stopped, withholding her name, he felt somewhat awash in disappointment. This, though, he kept off his face, instead smiling ever-so-slightly and dipping his head in deference. "Panic, sweet lady, is something that only a lower creature would fall prey to. Furthermore, I would hate to do any clever hunter the discourtesy of providing them a reason to disapprove of me; as I stated, I was at your mercy. Appalling manners would not have gotten me down quickly, would they have?" He stared at her carefully, judging his next move. She seemed amused by something; perhaps this was a game to her. If so, he'd have to plan his play carefully. "It is, of course, your prerogative to share or withhold your name, and I do respect that. Though, I must confess, I would be much obliged to have an appellation which I could use in reference to yourself. It would be deplorable to think of you as merely "the clever doe" or "the trapper," wouldn't you agree?" he said as politely as he could.

Kitty Sprightt

he is the king of the purple prose

 

[theCorniest]

i accidentally an edit

Never's up to 917 now, give or take. SO CLOSE

The night-dark doe nodded solemnly in agreement. "If you had been rude, I would have been very reluctant to let you down. A day, at the most, would soften even the most stubborn kin enough to say please, I've found," she added, her smile growing wider, but not much friendlier at all. With a toss of her head to resettle her hair, she added, "I did tell you my name, though. I'm surprised you didn't catch it -" Suddenly, she bent her head down to the mud and came back up laden with dark mud, daubing it in a shape, the sign for 'kimeti', onto Cross' fur. when she finished, she wiped the excess mud her nose onto her knee, then tittered, "- It is, after all, written on your shoulder."

"Well, almost," she amended after a beat. "It's more or less my name. I sign without the circle, generally." She stepped closer to Crossed Call. "But it is a remarkable coincidence, don't you think?" she asked sweetly, leaning her head in closer, too, the glittering green of her eyes visible only now that their noses were inches away from touching. "My name is usually only written on things that are mine," she intoned solemnly. After a short pause, her tail flicking gently in an even, hypnotizing rhythm behind her, she then asked, "Are you?"  

[Scaramouche Fandango]

Cross found his face growing almost uncomfortably warm as he stared down at the mark above his shoulder scale. To be so marked as possessed, a thing to be owned, was not a feeling he'd ever experienced. He felt as though a second snare was entangling him, but unlike the one that had left him stranded in the tree, this one wasn't a thing to be fought. Perhaps it was inevitable, fate bringing the two of them together, or perhaps fate had nothing to do with it and this was just a wonderful set of circumstances. Those green eyes belonged to a doe who was impossible to singly describe. She was a puzzle, as sharp of mind as she was of tooth. She was absolutely beguiling, bewitching, enchanting, and all kinds of other adjectives ending in -ing– but the one that came to mind more than any other was challenging. She would lose interest in prey caught so easily, that was for certain. So, never blinking, he stared back into those glimmering eyes.

"I could be," he said, measuring his words carefully. "But what would be the fun in that? One little snare, one destined mark, and the chase is over, the quarry caught? Never, my Never, would that hold your attention- and so now, I must be off." He turned away from her, making as if to sprint away, then turned his head back at her, quirking up a dark eyebrow and smiling enticingly. "But- you have the scent of me, so to speak, and I have no doubt that when a huntress such as you is on the trail, there is little that eludes her. You have already caught me once How hard can it be to do so again?"

Something about this place was dangerous, and now that he knew what it was, he definitely liked it.

Kitty Sprightt

come on, Never, you can do it!

 

[theCorniest]

Never had to bite down on a sudden urge to laugh - oh, she did like this one! What fun they would have - in the chase, and the catching, and what came after. She wondered distantly if he'd be this talkative then, too - she rather thought he would.

For her response, she waited a moment and then sighed, for effect. "Oh, I suppose you're right. I'll give you until the sun sets before I give chase, but no longer." The smile she favored him with was something teetering on the edge of seduction and predatory hunger. "Do try to make this challenging."