A Chill Bro
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- #49
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- February 24, 2012
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 Name: O'ltzfut Phonetic: ults-foot. (like colt's foot only without the C)
Personality: Trying to talk to O'ltzfut is like trying to talk to a sleeping infant. He is known to answer questions with questions, or reply to questions with irrelevant observations, or not answer at all. He has an aloof air that also makes those who question him feel like they are wasting his time and their own. He is whimsical and entertained easily by things others would find boring or bizarre, like staring at a leaf for hours on end.
That's not to say he's cold. In fact, he will welcome almost anyone into their man-made territory, not fearing death or takeover. He seems jolly- always prancing and smiling, twirling with the wind and getting far too close for comfort. He shares food willingly and speaks about how easy his pack's life is, under the protection of man's guard and the man.
His life of luxury has made him fat and soft. When things turn nasty, he will talk big but refuse to fight in the end. He values living more than anything else. Conversations of death and violence are ignored and even ridiculed. He does not believe in gods, only in the man and luck. Of course, the pack members know the truth.
He is a snivelling coward, willing to put his life above others. He never warns new members of his pack about the dangers of man's den and when the inevitable happens, those victims never existed. Their names are forbidden from being spoken so the rest can continue to live in luxury, ignoring the death all around them.
Backstory:
Man's Guard came to them when their pack had fallen. O'ltzfut was only a puppy when their home was overrun by Stones and his father was killed. The sundering had driven off much of the food and the stones would not compromise over the remaining herds.
Tired, injured...his tummy empty and his hind leg swelling, the stranger had come to his pack. All were weary but too weak to resist hearing him out. Man's Guard spoke to them of a haven, prepared especially for them. A place where there would be plenty to eat and drink, a safe shelter from the rain. A place where they would never have to worry about anything again and could instead focus on things like art and poetry. A place to lick their wounds and let them heal...no more endless marching, no more territory fights. No more fear.
The pack, desperate for what help they could get, followed Man's Guard. It was as he'd described. A big cave, fresh meat strewn on the grass, a clear and clean stream flowing nearby. Furs, soft and tempered, lined the cave floor and the pack slept so soundly that night.
When the man came the first time, the pack scattered. Man had caused the sundering, they believed, man was evil! But the man carried no weapon and Man's Guard stood at his heel as the dumped more food out onto the grass. O'ltzfut was the first to eat, fearless of poison in his youth, and soon the rest joined it. It took a few weeks, but soon they grew indifferent to the man. He never spoke and left them food daily, retiring beyond the trees. Man's guard protected them from harm and Man himself was never far, killing more than one groburr that came to their camp.
New aershaa arrived one day. They were feared, but welcomed by Man's guard and allowed to stay. The pack told them of how this paradise worked. The man was not to be harmed or feared.
And then aershaa started to vanish. It was slow at first, one old codger vanished. It was assumed he had wandered off somewhere to die alone- he was the type that hated a fuss. But then a youth vanished. It was assumed that this place was too boring for him and he'd decided to leave. He was old enough to care for himself...
And then O'ltzfut was wandering with his mother, heading down the stream to see if there were any fish. They had grown a hair bored of the same meat over and over, but the stream had no signs of any life in it, not even moss. O'ltzfut stopped to scratch himself and he heard his mother's sharp cry of pain. He ran to see what had happened- a sharp razor-lined wire was cinched about her neck. She gasped, eyes bulging, pulling back on the wire with all her might. Blood erupted from her maw and her paws scrabbled at the drey, until she fell still and rasped her last.
O'ltzfut, a moonling, stared at his mother. He watched as Man's Guard walked from the bushes and the man followed behind. The man undid the snare and began to hack his mother apart. The man who had fed them well, protected them, given them everything...
O'ltzfut smiled, licked the man's hand, and turned to trot back to the safe haven paradise. His head was high and there was a skip in his step. When questioned where his mother was, he only said one thing.
"What mother?"
Voice actor: Cowslip Theme song: Fly With the Black Swan
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When the trio- NO! THE PAIR! - when the pair had asked him where all the food came from, he merely chuckled.
"Aren't the stars beautiful tonight." It wasn't a question, but a rhetoric. He was so proud to know such a word as rhetoric. And then he showed off by counting them. He counted higher than any newcomers could count and he flourished in a circle as he did so. "Thirty-seven. Thirty-eight! Thirty-nine! Thirty-ten!" He puffed his chest with pride and then dismissed them all to the caves for the night.
Everyone in this pack wore smiles as they entered the cave, offering to get the newcomers anything they wanted: food, a skin, a spot by the entrance, a story? The smiles were very offputting, like someone had put too much sugar on an over-ripe berry and hurt their teeth from the sweetness. There was an odd smell about too. And all the aershaa here had shiny coats and filled-out skeletons. In fact a few could be called fat, O'ltzfut most of all. But they had no muscles, no tone, no torque in their legs. Several had sleepy looking eyes, like even lifting their lids was too much of a bother.
O'ltzfut was the friendliest of the group. His eyes were so far away but he never left the side of the two newcomers. He gave them a tour of the cave- and even it seemed off. The rocks were too smooth and perfectly placed, held together with mortar and clay. Caves had an unpredictable nature to them but this one had no zigs or zags, no outcroppings, no stalagmites. It was also blocked off at the back. It was like their river and the rest of the clearing- man made. Despite that, it was very large with enough room for ten extra aershaa on its floor.
"So, O'ltzfut was it?" One of the newcomers asked. "Yes, dear boy?" "Why exactly-" O'ltzfut cut him off with a mighty yawn. "Oh terribly sorry. Busy, busy day you know. Its nice to have newcomers." There was a fog next. Had someone said something? O'ltzfut didn't remember anything being said so he dismissed them with his paw and laid down betwixt them.
The morning came and went and only the newcomers stirred, amazed at how much this pack slept. The afternoon came shortly after and a sound seemed to rouse the pack at last. It was a noise that would alarm any other aershaa but O'ltzfut and his pack seemed used to it and even excited for it. A crunching from two legs on grass and something hitting the ground outside. The man had arrived.
He whistled while he walked to the middle of the pack site. The newcomers snarled in aggression at first but O'ltzfut calmed them with his belly-filled laugh. "But there is a man!" The fog again. O'ltzfut was sure some dust was whispering in his ear or the cave was extra echoing this morning. "No no, friends. The man is good. He is leaving us a kindness as he does every day. Must not harm the man or he won't bring us any tomorrow." He said this sharply though his face remained in that toothy smile.
He was the first to walk out and sit just where the man could see them. He was tall and bald with a sprinkle of hair on his jaw. His kindness that O'ltzfut spoke of was a mighty wooden crate filled to the brim with meat- some of it red and sloppy, some of it white with streamers of fat, some of it bones, some of it hairy...there were even a few heads of birds and the large cow beasts. "The man is a butcher and shares what he killed. A kindness indeed."
The balding elder tipped the crate over onto the dirt and the aershaa swarmed, digging in like ravenous hogs at a trough. O'ltzfut shouldered through two others and for only then he had a light of aggression in his eyes. He growled and snapped up the best for himself but it was clear there was plenty to go around.
"You see?" He told the outsiders a time later, who refused to eat any of man's food. O'ltzfut was ripping into some sort of organ, chewing it with gross sloshes, blood leaking off his chin. He was slow and lazy in his chewing. "He is a kind man. Oh, I beg you eat. The food is not poison- not once have any of us fell ill to a kindness. So please, eat all you like." When they refused, his face fell slightly. "It was good enough for you all last night." They mumbled to eachother and two ate but the third- NO! THE TWO OF THEM ATE AND THAT WAS THAT. THEY WERE THANKFUL FOR MAN'S KINDNESS.
That night, the pack gathered together tightly and looked to eachother. None was leader here and they were all equal. O'ltzfut, being the sociable type, was the first to speak and he stood in the middle of the circle to do so. "What shall we do tonight, friends? We have had much time for thinking since our last entertainment. Has anyone made any art they wish to show? If not, I have a poem I'd like to recite. And then perhaps a song!" As if on cue, another aershaa perked up and then the pair insisted the other go first. It took a moment but finally the artist spoke while O'ltzfut backed into the crowd.
The two newcomers watched with a nervous curiosity as the artist produced a slab of wood and showed off art that no wild aershaa had made before- at least none of them had. It was a painting, like what man hung in his house. It was just a swirl of whatever colors the artist could get his paws on; mostly mud. But since the river was made of smooth stones the mud had to be mixed by paw. And the leaves he used stuck fast and were a nice touch. "I see, it is me!" O'ltzfut piped up. "No, its the sun set!" Another guessed. This went on for a while. The artist remained mum, walking about and showing it off. It was on display until finally O'ltzfut pulled out a guess. "It is the great serpent the man's guard killed the other day when it was chasing Filani about." There was a great cheer at the artist nodded. The discouragement on his face was clear.
"A great serpent? Man's guard?" The female visitor asked. "Yes, it chased me round and round." A small pup with distant eyes spoke softly. "The man's guard killed it." She said nothing more about the Man's guard for a round of congratulations and praise for the fine job came up for the artist, lead by O'ltzfut. He said they should lean it on a tree so the man could see it in the morning.
And then it was his turn to speak. He moved to the middle of them, and cleared his throat, waiting for silence.
"The dark. The sun. The drey. The lies." He bowed his head as his pack congratulated him and praised him for a fine job. Another amazing poem. So deep. It even had all matching syllables. He held his head high. There was nothing to do in this pack except expand one's mind and become even more clever. Let man do the hunting and the Man's guard protect them.
"That wasn't a poem!" One of the newcomers said. No...no-one had said that. Just more fog. They had all loved the poem, he was certain. It was a poem of truth! S'feena and Khan and Draiah had turned tail on all of them. There were no gods and there never had been.
Finally, the group began to sing. It was not howling as packs usually did. It was a somber song that they sung in the common tongue, trying to not sing over each other, making a mess. It started in jibberish and then moved on to lyrics that seemed bland and not great for a round. The pitch was all over the place and the words were like fire- hard to catch with so many flames moving around at once. It made O'ltzfut swell up with pride again but the newcomers felt sick and turned in early.
P̴̕iņ̛e̶̷̛we͜ll̛̀͠ ̨Śh̡r͢ų̡bì͠ ͏̀Ļ̢͞a͘͢͝ş̸́tr̨á͘҉n̵̡a͏ ̸̨́D͠͝iv͠͏͟e̷͝r̀͠e͟l̵͘ ̸̡M̷͡o͞x̶̧͜s̢o̴̸o͜͡n͟ ҉We̵̢ ̧͘s̡͡a̢͟͡y ͝f͞a͜͡r͘͞e͘͡ ͞w͡҉ȩ́́l͟͡l ̴̧ ̷͜O̶n̢͞ć̵̴e̸͟ ̡m͢҉̧o͝r͡ę̴́ ̴̨f̨͞ar͝e̕ w̧̡̛é̢͝l̕ĺ͟͝ ̸͏T̸̸̛o̷̶̵ ͠t̡̢͜h͠e̶ ̷d̵e͘҉̀ar̷ ̕o̸ņe̕s̡ ̵f͘͟à̶ŗ͘e̶͝ ͘we̶l̀̕͞l̀ ̨A̧̨n͢d̕ th͢e͏͝i̴r͝ ͞n͏a͢m̡͞e̛s̵͟ ͜͞sp̡o͟k̵e̢n͡ l̸͏a̢̕s̴͟t͠͠
The next morning came and again, the pack did not wake before the afternoon. But with the sun hardly up, O'ltzfut was startled by something- voices. Two voices talking about something in a hushed way. Had the newcomers decided to leave already? A pity. Some didn't like the cushy life. But two laid back down while the sound of pawprints became faint. A great mess of black birds burst from the bushes a moment later and O'ltzfut smiled to himself, curling back up for sleep. Better someone else than him, eh?
The man had always been there. The man was good. The man was kind. The man was not to be harmed. Think of art and music and poetry, always. These were the sacred laws of the small packlands. On top of those rules, a new one had been added just this morning. It was an unspoken rule but it was enforced.
There never was an Aershaa named Wisp.
It was a lovely day. Lovely day indeed and the the air smelt so wonderful and the soil was soft underfoot and the water was clean and there was no aershaa named Wisp. There never had been.
As O'ltzfut swallowed mouthful after mouthful of water from the fake stream, he could think of nothing more than how fanciful the two newcomers beside him spoke. "Wisp's trail ended over there, O'ltzfut." One said coldly. "He got up this morning and the trail just...stops." "We found this there. It smells of your man." From the female's mouth dropped a strand of thin iron string tied to an uprooted peg of metal. So, it had drawn so tight that the man had to cut the poor sod out- ER! LALALALA. EVERYTHING IS LOVELY TODAY. THINK OF A NEW POEM. A SONG. ANYTHING.
"Pretty." O'ltzfut said, admiring the wire. And he was sure he had no idea where it had come from. He smiled with all his teeth showing and looked to the pair. "The trees are lovely today." He chimed happily, looking up at them.
He felt weight on his shoulder and took a sharp breath as he stumbled and clumsily fell to the ground. "Oh! The man and Man's guard will be cross if you hurt me!" He tried to get up but the two snarled at his face. "Where is Wisp!?" "There was never a Wisp. Its been you two alone this whole time." He waited. "They will be cross if they sees you bullying." "I don't care about man! You lot are sick! No better than pets!" "A good opening line for my next poem." O'ltzfut yelped and felt his throat in the other's jaws. He howled madly and squirmed, not the fighting type. The other friends just watched, not really interested in helping. Wasn't their job. O'ltzfut was all fat and hair with no muscles to fight. The other aershaa latched onto his leg and he was a squealing mess as he struggled to get the beasts off. "Nope! No Wisp here!" he insisted.
But just then, something flashed from the bushes. Man's guard was always watching to make sure trouble wasn't about when man couldn't be there. The beast was huge and hard to see with how fast it moved, especially compared to these fat wild pets. It was upon the aershaa on O'ltzfut's neck in a moment and there was a cracking noise. A great loud baying came after it missed the female. "Could have had a nice life with us, you could have." O'ltzfut mumbled as he felt his neck fall free. The female was off like a shot.
And like magic, the man appeared with another kindness in his arms. The guard barked and pointed with its nose and the man dropped the crate with anger in his eyes. He drew something from his side and back. There was a 'thhhenk' noise and an arrow sailed through the air and caught the fleeing female in the spine, downing her on the edge of the meadow, close to his main snare trap. They were only thin skinned waters. O'ltzfut chuckled, but his face had a horrified wince to it and his smile deflated.
The human was not fond of newcomers and it was his duty to protect his prospects. He called the guard back to its post. When he was sure the troublemakers wouldn't be getting up, he dumped the meat crate. Putting his bow away, he was relieved when O'ltzfut hurried over for his share, unhurt. The man stepped past them to the bodies and roped their feet, retrieving his arrow and ready to drag them home. What was to become of them? Blades, claws and teeth would be sold for weapons, wing leather and skin for clothes or armour, meat for pet food, eyes and bones to the mages. Nothing went to waste and this was easier than keeping them in a cage.
O'ltzfut finished his share and gave a small burp through his nose. He looked to the sun above and felt that smile return to his face. It had been so long since they'd had newcomers. He wondered if any would show up this moon. "A pity it didn't work out with them." One of his friends spoke softly. "What didn't work out with who now?" O'ltzfut cocked his eyebrow. The fog was thick today.
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