A Matter of Fur and Fangs
[07:11:58] Crow eturned to his tent with Hecate at his side, the sleen moving with the quiet confidence of an animal that had little interest in wasting energy. He had slept remarkably well at the inn with Neeve, which had done much to improve his disposition. Now, however, he stood before the entrance to his tent with a familiar suspicion settling over his features. The last time he had left his quarters, he had returned to find a bosk comfortably installed in his bed, apparently convinced that an Assassin’s furs were perfectly acceptable lodging. Crow regarded Hecate. “I trust you have better manners than the last guest.” He lifted the flap and gestured for her to enter first, hoping that the sight, scent, or mere presence of a trained sleen might persuade the beast to reconsider its choice of accommodation. He had no particular desire to damage his tent, his belongings, or the intruder, though he was beginning to suspect that the latter might be the most difficult of the three to achieve.
[07:15:57] Hecate followed along after crow, her steps slow and practiced, and her tail slowly swaying behidn herself in a serpentine manner. Fangs bared oh so slightly in warning to all that may get close she was’t a cuddly animal to all but one. And even he she only tolerated for the most part. Well maybe a little more than tolerate. She bumped him lightly with her muzzle as she heard him talk before she herself sniffed the air. Catching the scent of the bosk in the tent she lowered herself down, in a clear predator approach and slunk forwards, foot step after footstep soft and quit as she made her presence known with a singular growling hiss. A warning that the sleen was there and not tolerating intruders. Instead of lunging she held there, waiting, watching.
[07:18:50] zCS # [Roll] AmouraVale Resident rolled 7 (100).
[07:20:42] Crow glanced down at Hecate as her muzzle brushed him, and his hand briefly settled against the side of her neck. The gesture was familiar, almost absent-minded, before his attention returned to the unfolding confrontation. He watched the sleen lower herself and advance, her hiss carrying a warning that would have been unmistakable to anything with sufficient sense to heed it. Crow remained just inside the tent entrance, arms folding across his chest as he waited to see whether the bosk possessed that particular virtue. The bosk had slept even through his warning and seemed to catch up on more when it didn’t seem to be aware of the danger that was lurking.
[07:25:03] Hecate followed along, watching the creature that had gotten into the tent. But alas the bosk had no interest in waking up from her warning. So….closer she got, slinking like a cat hunting a mouse she ranged closer. Then closer. Until her snout nearly touched the bed and then she gave a feral hiss once more. Her tongue flicking as the creature that had invaded her owners hut now continued to rest oh so peacefully despite the stink she created in the air just by being there. Fangs lifted and she stayed there, poised as to try and awaken the creature to a very ill looked fate! No one wanted to wake up to a sleen in their face.
[07:25:07] zCS # [Roll] AmouraVale Resident rolled 97 (100).
[07:28:39] Crow had barely enough time to straighten from his relaxed stance before the bosk awoke to find a very displeased sleen practically breathing down its nose. He took one look at the sudden commotion, the fangs, and Hecate’s decidedly predatory posture, and closed his eyes for a brief moment as though silently asking the Priest-Kings for patience. “Ah. There it is. The intelligence I had hoped our guest possessed.” He stepped sideways, putting himself clear of the most obvious escape route while keeping a watchful eye on the bed. “Hecate, my girl, I believe you have made your point.” His hand lifted “Good morning. I trust you slept well. You have, unfortunately, overstayed your welcome. Now, I strongly recommend that you leave by the entrance. That is the opening through which you came.”
[07:32:57] Hecate saw the creature awaken itself and growled once again, going to move, much like a herding sleen to which she was not she stalked across to the other side of the bed, and then gave a deep hissing noise that threatened an attack. Should the creature listen she would not chase it, but should it stay put she would make sure it moved. Fangs gnashed just once and paws slammed to each of her sides in a clear threat. Before she waited, seeing what path the bosk would take, her muscles rippling under furred flesh as golden eyes stared to her quarry. A obvious threat to the other. But none of that hostility was turned to her handler.
[07:33:01] zCS # [Roll] AmouraVale Resident rolled 84 (100).
[07:38:15] Crow watched Hecate reposition herself on the opposite side of the bed, his expression settling into one of quiet appreciation. The sleen had understood the assignment perfectly. No unnecessary attack, no wasted movement; merely a clear demonstration that the bosk’s continued occupation of his sleeping quarters had become a matter of some considerable danger. Crow moved towards the tent entrance and drew the flap wider, offering the animal a clear route to freedom should it possess the good sense to take it. “Excellent work, Hecate,” he stated, his tone carrying genuine approval. “Intimidation without the expense of replacing a perfectly good tent. You are proving yourself considerably more reasonable than our guest.” He would indicate her to come out of the tent also. The corner of his mouth twitched. “I should have charged you rent. At least then your presence might have served some purpose.” He shouted towards the bosk that tried to find its way to a more safer place.
[07:41:36] Hecate reached a paw out to swat at the bosk as it ran loose, barely missing its hind quarters with a paw before she herself followed along as she noticed the flap opening and the bosk running free. She saw the motion of Crow and giving a rumbling noise moved out, her side brushing against him for a mere second as she slunk along the path. Each step slow and cautious before she gave a rumbling growl. And looked to see if the other did make a mess of other tents. Not that they were much concern to a sleen but still she rumbled. Her tail flicking back and forth slightly before she stalked further outwards. Raising her fangs towards the running creature.
[07:41:39] zCS # [Roll] AmouraVale Resident rolled 23 (100).
[07:50:31] Crow watched the bosk bolt from the tent, his expression remaining remarkably composed for a man whose bed had recently been occupied by livestock. He reached down to run a hand briefly along her flank, acknowledging her with a quiet, approving rumble of his own. “Well done, girl.” He stepped out after her, fastening the tent flap back to keep it from catching in the commotion, then surveyed the camp for any immediate signs of disaster. His gaze tracked the fleeing bosk, then returned to Hecate as she stalked after it, fangs bared and tail flicking. “Leave the other tents intact if you please,” he called after her, amusement threading his voice. “I have quite enough trouble explaining why one bosk considers my bed hers. I would rather not explain why my sleen has declared war on the entire camp.” He began walking after them at an unhurried pace, already resigned to the possibility that his morning would involve considerably more livestock management than assassination. “And here I thought the difficult part of my day would be getting out of bed.” He was pleased to see that Hecate was doing her task wonderfully. The bosk moved towards the gate where the guards opened the gate swiftly to have the animal run into the forest. “What would I have done without you, Hecate.” he murmurs. “Now I need to find some campslaves that can clean my furs and tent. It smells like a stable.”
[07:56:41] Hecate turned her massive head to view Crow, watching him as she stalked after the bosk, running it out before returning back to the side of her handler. Her sides rumbling with discontent at someone or something ruining the peace of what she once knew. Her eyes flitted along as she went to lay down next to his side. The stinky sleen, which was normal state of her brushing the side of her shoulder against his thigh for a moment in a grumpy manner and letting him know she was less than pleased over the bosk situation. However it was what it was and she left it be, the bosk gone left the irritated female settling herself. As Crow talked to her however her head turned to look at him. She could tell he was happy, wither or not that mattered to a sleen was in the air but normally happy meant food later so she accepted it. Her tongue reaching out to run against her paws. Cleaning any dirt off of them.
[08:02:39] Crow looked down as Hecate settled beside him, her shoulder brushing his thigh in a final, grumbling complaint about the morning’s disturbance. He regarded her for a moment, then crouched beside the great sleen, scratching behind one ear with the familiarity of long practice. “Yes, yes. An outrage. An unforgivable invasion of your territory, and all before breakfast.” There was a rare smile. “I shall ensure the slaves are informed that you have successfully defended the honor of my furs.” He would look down upon her. “I think that will be a good meal today. Some grooming too if you feel for it.” he promised. “And perhaps you can ensure that animals don’t get footing in my tent.” he chuckles.
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