[ ᨒ ] The Aftermath of Genesis

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With the gang growin' to a temporary group of five, Callahan knew it was time to start stockpilin' for the comin' spring. He had been keepin' the camp stocked with smaller game and the occasional fish he'd catch when scountin' but he knew it was time to bring a real meal home.

Cal had wanted to bring along Miss Bunny to teach her to hunt, but weren't sure if it were the right time. While he didn't want to expose the woman to some of the brutality that hunting entailed, it were a survival skill everyone should know. He hoped Tobias and Boone knew how to hunt or at least gather edible berries. Cal weren't one to assume someone's skills, but God he hoped they'd be useful.

The man had taken to trailin' a lone pronghorn through the meadow, the sickly sweet scent of illness leadin' him on a leash. He was growin' familiar with the lay of the land, feet tracin' the paths he'd take through the meadow to the lake and up the mountains. It were gettin' easier as the days crept on, and he only hoped it were the same for the others.

The soft breeze tickled the fur on his ears, making them twitch and rustle the tall grass he was waitin' in. A scent carried by the breeze came to settle in the area, and Cal just hoped it wouldn't alert the buck drinkin' from the creek.

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skill ; stalker

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another aw for those wanting to join the gang ! and current members can hop in if they'd like <3

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strong language

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His body was failing. Rotting away from the inside out. Like his stomach had grown teeth and blindly ate and ripped at whatever was nearest. Flesh and muscle like paper mache on bone. Mouth and throat dry as dust. His brain rattled about in his skull, desperate to find a better body to survive in.

Darkness crept in around the edges of his vision and held him like the mother he wished he had. He thought of his sister, dead, dying, or worse. Or tried to. There was not an ounce of concentration left.

But he really meant to. Tried to. Think about her. One last thought.

His consciousness withered away like the husk his corpse had become.

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Remort blinked and found himself standing in the shade of a tree. Legs splayed like a foal that had finally found its feet. Shaky, too.

He was so fucking hungry.

The organ growled restlessly and the shadow was spurred onward. Feverishly, his freckled nose worked. There was the scent of wolves—off-putting, but he had bigger fish to fry (at least, he hoped he would)—and then, finally, venison. Spider-like, he crept quickly along after the scent.

Eventually, the strong, fresh scent of a wolf nearby hit him like a truck and he faltered. He bit his tongue; ears pinned to his skull before flicking up to listen around. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad thing. He was weak and hungry. A hunting partner was likely just what he needed.

That was how hungry he was—optimism slipped in like a mistress. Nearly every wolf Remort met was a fucking asshole.

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Callahan kept himself low to the earth, eyes studying the buck's slowed movements. It'd be a quick kill—a strong bite to the jugular and hopefully no fight. He watched the buck walk further into the brush, the tall grass barely swaying with his cautious steps. The rush of a hunt brought back memories of the past—the time he’d gone bison huntin’ in the plains, moose huntin’ up in Ambarino, and gator huntin’ down in the swamps. This may not be as dangerous, but the adrenaline still thrummed in his veins.

The breeze shifted some, bringing the familial scents of the gang to the man—along with an unfamiliar. It made him pause, brows furrowing. Either they were purposefully creepin’ in the valley or they got lost. The gang’s claim was settlin’ well these days, their collective scent covered the area like a thick cloud and Cal hoped it’d keep others at bay. He weren’t one for strangers posin’ a danger to his gang, his family, and he’d make sure they were safe.

With the knowledge of another in mind, the man crept along behind the creature as it pressed further into the treeline, its horns scraping against low hanging pine branches. Cal watched it lower its head to nibble at a berry bush and a grin appeared. It was almost time to bring home a fresh meal.

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hunter skill ; stalker
also dragging it out a little so you can hop in <3

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It was the pronghorn he laid eyes on before the other wolf. His heart sank. He had hoped for some crippled doe that would have been thankful to be hunted down and put out of its misery. Not a healthy buck. His hunting skills were mediocre at best thanks to his piss-poor parents. Alas, Remort hadn't the luxury to be picky.

His heart began to gallop in his chest, breath held captive in his lungs. Teeth barred in anticipation. Tunnel vision settled in, either out of concentration or malnourishment.

The other wolf was completely forgotten. Venison dominated his mind. The amateur hunter shot out from the undergrowth, across the distance between him and the buck. Frosted gold eyes were affixed to the pronghorn's soft underbelly. His jaws were parted, prepared to bite, but nerves got the better of him and he hesitated.

Soil was kicked up as the pronghorn turned and ran. Remort's teeth snapped on air. Determined—desperate, rather, the shadow sprinted after it.

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thnx :3 he needs the practice x3

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patience was a virtue. that's what his daddy always said when he grew impatient when they were fishin' or huntin'. but cal weren't expecting another to jump from the brush and miss. all that work for nothin'. cal could only watch the kid chase after the buck, a scowl worsenin' on his face. “damned fool!” he snarled as he ran after the idiot.

it weren't hard to find them, seein' as the kid were scarin' the entire forest with his chase. broken branches and ruined bushes led the man to the pursuing kid. “hol' up! ya can't be runnin' without purpose. you'll just waste your breath.” he grumbled as he moved in front of the boy, chest heaving from the chase. “y'gotta be smarter than that if y'wanna eat. sure, you'll tire 'im out, but then you'll be too tired to finish the job.” cal shook his head before looking at the path the buck left.

with a heavy sigh, he turned back to the kid. “you come with me and do everything i tell you. don't go tryin' to play a game. this is serious now.” lot of folk were waitin' on this. and he weren't no failure.

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