Seperation Anxiety

[Raxxok]

OOC:  I was quite pleased with the discussions and RP that was sparked from our recent om'riggor that I decided to delve into Raxxok's (the cheeky bastard) hunt a bit more thoroughly in the form of a story. I've always tried to make Raxxok an orc that is somewhat of an outside in Orc culture, he was raised away from the norm and had little contact with anything but animals.  While the subject is controversial for some, Raxxok believes that anything must be done to survive, everything is permitted in his line of thought.  So enjoy!

IC:


The wind bit down hard on his skin, relentless and viciously it seemed to strike from every direction upon the mountains of Kun'lai.  Naked, far from home and without his hunting ally the Orc pressed forward up the snowy pathways winding up the mountain.  He knew what the plan was for his prey, he spent days prior scouting, watching and learning from it.  In his mind he believed the Chieftain deserved the largest and most fierce of beasts to be brought down in his name, new to Orcish society-- he believed an Om'riggor was a show of fealty to the Chieftain and not an experience personal to the Orc committing it.  The beast was given a name by the Orc, "Oshu'naak' which meant mountain horror in the native tongue of the Orcs.  He knew its routines and actions through days of surveying in the freezing temperatures, a willing sacrifice for such an upper-hand.  Everyday the beast would leave the hovel when the sun begins to set in order to retrieve food from a nearby crevice, leaving the young behind.

"Ghrm, this started a bit too late-- beast looks to already be gone."

Small carcasses of half eaten goats and what seemed to be humanoids were strewn out infront of the beasts hovel, a menace to those that dared dwell in these mountains.  The Orc tore into one of the goats and removed a large layer of fur and hide, he quickly rubbed the fur on his face for warmth and tucked it under his arm.  Cautiously he approached the hovel from his hiding spot by a tree, armed only with his bow and some half frozen furs.  The snow crunched under his feet loudly, he could no longer feel his toes, he wiggled them furiously after each step to avoid the need for amputation afterwards.  While entering the cave he felt a sudden gust of warm air, the beasts stench was still filling up the insides of the cavern.

"Ugh, death and shit..."

Creeping slowly the Orc approached the back end of the cave, small drawings could be seen throughout the interior that seemed to be drawn in blood (he hoped).  Quickly he approached the area with a small Yeti whelp within, it screamed loudly when he was spotted but was quickly silenced with a mouthful of fur.  He gripped the youngling tightly and wrestled briefly to make it stop wriggling in his arms, a firm smack stilled the young beast.  As the Orc made his way out of the hovel he was greeted by a familiar face.  Panting, tongue out and covered in snow was his ally in the great hunt.  A muscular Wolf that had a coat of deep silver, years upon years of evolution led to the creation of such a great beast, and here it stood at the foot of the cave.

"You come at the worst times.  Here, take this. "

The sun had set and the air grew even colder than before now, the moons dim glow made the snow sparkle like stars upon the ground.  The Orc bent over and explained to Krenta the plan, she was to bring the whelp to the top of a cliffside while he followed suit.  The wolf took off and the Orc followed at a slow pace, the cold was getting to him but his stubborn pride urged him forward.  He'd rub his neck and arms along trees and bushes to make his scent easier to follow, stopping to have a quick moment of urination relief in the snow as well, knowing this will surely coax the beast further.  The wind continued to rage and the Orc continued to push forward, it was only a matter of time.

"Give it here.  Keep a good look out inca--"

Krenta let out a ear shattering howl as the ground rumbled briefly beneath the Orcs feet. shaking snow off of a nearby tree.  With the infant in hand the Orc shuffled his way through knee-deep snow to the cliff edge, ready to spring his trap.  The moment the beast became visible from the curve of the mountain came a moment of joy for the Orc, this is what life was-- to put the great beasts against one another, Orc versus Mountain demon, Wolf, Bear or anything else.  To his core he was an animal, a beast, and he took pride in the fact that he could share that primal bond with the ones that he deemed worthy.

"Lok'tar Oshu'naak! I have come for you!"

The Orc bellowed loudly to the beast, seemingly taunting it to charge even faster than it was already.  It stopped briefly when it noticed the Orc was holding it's whelp, a moment of sentience perhaps?  Could this beast that fed off of the flesh of innocent climbers be capable of such feats?  These questions did not cross the Orcs mind as he heaved with all his weight the young Yeti into the air and over the side of the cliff.  The beast let out a roar that shook even the sturdy thighs of this Orc, causing him to quickly dash out of the rampaging beasts way.  Did the plan fail?  Will it really come after me?  These thoughts raced through the Orcs mind as he struggled through the deep snow to find cover.  With his bow in hand he turned back to find nothing but his friend peering over the edge.

"You can stay or go.  You've done well sister."

He ran his hand through the wolfs thick warm fur as he raced down the side of the mountain to  get a closer look at his catch.  The beast wheezed out a few breaths, its massive chest heaved up and down with each gasp of air.  Its body was mangled, arms broken and unable to move its head-- clearly a painful fall.  The Orc unsheathed his bow and cocked an arrow back, aimed towards the beasts large eye and released.  A quick squish was heard and the breathing stopped, the trap had worked and the Orc had killed a great beast in the name of his Chieftain.  He began pulling out the fangs with long heaves, a suitable trophy for his masterful kill-- when he heard the whimpering of something under the palm of the yeti.  The whelp had survived the fall and crawled out from under its mothers hand, the Orc straightened his back and cocked another arrow towards the face of the whelp. 

-Flashback-
A young Orc and his greatmother stood over a nest of raptor hatchlings, they shrieked and gnashed their small teeth in the air.

"What do we do with them greatma?"  The small Orc looked up to the elder quizzically.

"Their mother is gone and they will die slowly, such is the way of life.  The only thing we can offer is a kindness."  She handed him a blade and nodded to him.  "Be sure to make it quick, and do not let the other ones see."

The young Orc grabbed hold of the knife and stared at it closely.  "We could take it in-- you always told me that great Orcs used to have beasts as friends."

"And who will feed it?  I am too old to be hunting for you and twelve growing beasts.  It's a kindness, now go on."

The young Orc frowned as he approached the nest once more with knife in-hand.

-Flaskback over-

The Orc looked upon the whelp and drew down his bow, the night was growing ever faster and they needed to return to camp.  He quickly strung some foliage together and used it as a makeshift collar, tugging the small animal along behind him.  Krenta followed behind and brushed past the Orc once more, his hand brushed through her warm coat.

"I may not have been able to feed twelve, but I can feed you sister."