Fable - Ask Cripple Creek

[Coyote Kilduff]

Coyote breathes in deeply, appreciating the scent of the mountain air, and the tiny little wildflowers wafting up to him as Yorel steps over them. This was the farthest North he'd been, and likely the highest up the Spine he's been as well, given the look of the landscape, and the way the few trees grew, twisted and thin.

He wasn't quite sure why he'd come up this long way, besides some innate pull the land gave him. If nothing else, he'd have some breathtaking sketches to show his sister when he passed back through home. Or for that matter, for the Day of Hearts. He certainly wouldn't be opposed to making doubles of everything, to send some home.

What's the point of paper if you ain't gonna use it?

"Hup hup, this way, Yorel."

Yorel snorts softly and turns in the direction indicated, surmounting a ridge. Ahead and somewhat below them is a little dished area in the mountainside, with a copse of trees and the gentle puttering of a creek. Coyote smiles to himself and directs his horse carefully down the edge and into the basin.

"Blow away ye gentle breezes."

Coming to a stop by the little creek, Coyote dismounts and surveys the immediate area, looking for any dangers, and for anything he can scrounge up to add to a quick meal.

---

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

Walking sucked. Even after decades of marching, Vulpesen hated travelling places on foot. Of course, it was also possible that his time as an officer made him more accustomed to a saddle. Unfortunately, being a sailor and a travelling warlock meant that travelling by horse was often impractical if not impossible.

Having decided to take a break from his foot killing journeys, the warlock now knelt by a creek, filling his canteen with the fresh running water that poured out from it. With any luck, following the stream would follow him to his destination so he wouldn't need to worry about what he was going to drink in the days to come.

One of his ears flicked as the crunch stone beneath hooves caught his attention. Whispering a quick prayer, he glamoured his body, hiding his ears from sight while his tail wrapped around his waist beneath his cloak. "Hello, there." He chirped, turning to meet the fellow traveler.

Coyote Kilduff

 

[Coyote Kilduff]

"Hello, there."

Coyote's head whips over to the other figure. One hand instinctively hovering over his hip in case of danger.

"... How'do. Didn't think I'd find anyone else out here."

He looks the man up and down intently, contemplative. Based on the dust, he'd walked a good ways up the mountain, an impressive feat itself, let alone where else he might've come from.

"Come a long way?"

Coyote gives a cursory glance around the area, noting a bramble thicket, as Yorel takes his own initiative to drink.

---

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen's eyes followed the horseman's hand and for a tense moment, each stood in a standoff, hands hovering over what was presumably some sort of weapon. Still, Vulpesen's training did allow him to see the difference between a threat and a defense. "Doin' alright. I ain't dead yet." He relaxed and stood a bit straighter. Accompanying his smile now was a matching gaze rather than the previously hard calculating stare.

"Come a long way?"

"You could say that," he retorted, slapping some dust off of his trousers. "Hard to come a long way when you ain't got a place to come from." He lifted his canteen to his lips, taking a long swig while he stood by the easiest source to refill it. "You?"

Coyote Kilduff

 

[Coyote Kilduff]

"You could say that,"

Coyote nods, a slight incline to his head, and his shoulders relax as the stranger seems to find no threat between them. He lowers his weapon-hand and gives it a slight shake.

"-hard to come a long way when you ain't got a place to come from."

He hums, acknowledging, and unhooks his own canteen from one of the jutting horns on Yorel's saddle, uncorking it slowly to take a drink.

"You?"

Coyote gives a slight shrug as he swills some water around in his mouth, and almost immediately spits it out in distaste.

"Ugh," he wipes his mouth with the back of his dirty glove, lip curled slightly, "Mm, 'spose I've come a ways too. Somethin' about the mountains called ta me, this go-round."

He dumps his stale canteen and make to approach the creek, giving the stranger another curious look.

"Ya come for the view, or somethin' else?"

---

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

"Just passin' through." He passed the band of his canteen over his head. letting the container rest easily against his hip to then be hidden beneath his cloak. "Beautiful sight though. Easier on the eyes than endless sands or plains." He'd been through it all. Craggy cliffs, open seas, and barren sands. He'd marched them on the soldier's road, and now he marched it as a wandering warlock. Even now, some places were easier to survive than others, and thankfully, the peaks of the world could be quite hospitable so long as you took them easy.

"I feel like you're the sort to have the luxury of travelling for the pretty sights. I simply keep an eye out for them while I'm on business. Hope I get lucky and my business brings me places like this." A good natured smile spread across his elven face as he stood to lean against a nearby tree, giving the other man access to the clean water should he desire it.

Coyote Kilduff

 

[Coyote Kilduff]

Coyote nods his head slightly, walking over and crouching to fill his canteen at the creek as he listens to the stranger and his appreciation of the land.

"You ain't wrong. The desert always glares at ya, more than the plains, I'd say."

He stands back up and takes a couple of swallows from his overfull canteen as the mild silence washes in, before corking it and slinging it over his own shoulder, half mirroring seeming Elf across from him. Behind Coyote, Yorel busies himself with some leaves from a bush.

"I feel like you're the sort to have the luxury of travelling for the pretty sights. I simply keep an eye out for them while I'm on business. Hope I get lucky and my business brings me places like this."

Coyote chuckles, and walks over to his horse to find something to chew on.

"Guess you could call it luxury. I'm just the movin' sort. Go out far as I can, findin' work along my way, then loop around. Happen across somethin' nice, I might stick around a little while. Ain't exactly easy, though."

He takes a couple of steps closer to the stranger again and proffers him hardbaked cracker and a slice of dried fruit.

"Y'got a name, Carrai? Everyone jus' calls me Coyote."

---

Vulpesen ("Carrai," is from a dialectal or semi-dialectal form of Elvish, from/around Coyote's hometown, meaning "friend," or "pal," depending on the inflection and tone. In this case, it'd be "friend.")

 

[Vulpesen]

The corner of his lip twitched as he thought of the glares from his surroundings. Such was the difference between them. The desert was empty. There were no eyes save your company and the oens within your own skull. The forest's had eyes in every tree and fern. The plains were the eyes of prowlers who stalked up silently, ready to pounce from the invisibility of tall grass. For him, it was the fact that the desert didn't glare at him that was the problem. It was too dead. Too barren.

"And yet you keep trottin' on. May not be easy, but whats livin' for rarely is." The elf's hand rose up to the tree beside him, chipping lightly at the wood with a nail. "Vulpesen. Friends call me Vulps." His lips turned into a lopsided grin as his eyes locked onto Coyote. "And you ain't tried to kill me yet, so thats about as close a friend as I can expect these days." He gratefully took the offered snacks, stacking them idly within his hands as he spoke. "how long you been on the road, Coyote?"

Coyote Kilduff

 

[Coyote Kilduff]

Coyote nods slowly, appreciating a piece of dried fruit as Vulps speaks, "And yet you keep trottin' on. May not be easy, but whats livin' for rarely is."

"Mm, dead right about that."

He gives his own, far more literal crooked grin, and his unibrow raises in the middle as the man introduces himself, watching him flake off bits of tree bark.

"a'Say similar for you for not killin' me either, Vulps. Seems a'lotta folks get a little antsy the more outta their way they are when ya lock eyes. Can't exactly blame em' though."

He bumps his hat up with his thumb about an inch, and loosens the cloth around his neck a bit, rolling his head around, joints grinding.

"How long you been on the road, Coyote?"

He takes a slow inhale, ponderously flipping another cracker around in his fingers. How long had it been, exactly? He'd been young, definitely. Perhaps a little stupid, seeing the messes he'd made for himself. It hadn't been long after his pre-prototype... His gaze drift downwards and skitter across the ground as he counts back, catching on stones, before flicking back up to look at Vulps.

"A good while. If I had ta guess, I've been driftin' around for over fifteen years, bless my poor mother." He bites a corner from the cracker with a wry tilt to his lips, and chews it into his jaw to speak, "How about you, Vulps, been on the road a while?"

---

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

"A little over ten," he said after taking a moment to think. "Had a run of bad luck and had to get away from it all." He crunched into the snack in his hands, resisting the urge to wag his hidden tail as he did so. He preferred to travel light, so food was usually whatever game he could find and plants he could harvest.

"I plan on goin' back though," he continued after swallowing. "Just not ready yet. Got a bit more learning to do." Admittedly he had done more than a little understating in his case. Losing an entire battalion to betrayal wasn't the same as accruing debts from one too many gambling houses.

Coyote Kilduff

 

[Coyote Kilduff]

Coyote listens intently, brow dipped in the middle, and nods.

Musta been rough, carrai.

"Just not ready yet. Got a bit more learning to do."

"Ain't we all."

He takes another bite, grumbling softly to himself, and glances up at the sky. Sun was getting high, and Yorel sounded a little bushed. He sticks the rest of the cracker into his pocket, and eats the dried fruit in one well-savoured bite before speaking.

"y'Opposed to makin' a camp with me? My horse needs a break anyway, and my aft too," he steps around to Yorel's offside, and after a moment, holds up a dinged up old pot, "I got a good middlin' Charrbush, and one of us might be able ta scare up a hare, if you're interested."

Coyote comes back around and sets the pot down lazily, and without waiting for a response, he begins untacking his horse, humming a tune.

---

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

A brow rose at the offer, and he popped the rest of the food into his mouth, pushing off the tree as he did so. "Least your horse has got four feet to tire out," he mentioned upon swallowing the rest, "I've only got two to bear the load." He eyed the pot, a small smile on his lips as he recalled his old life. Brewed drinks were rarely an officer's job. But hunting was something innate to all of his kind.

"I was thinkin' of setting up camp here anyways. Havin' some company doesn't sound too bad." Vulpesens eyes started to scan the area around them, already searching for signs of game. "You get that drink goin', and I'll get the hare or whatever else is hoppin' around here."

He may not have known Coyote that well, but he felt that should the man abscond with his pack. He'd have ample skill to rearrange their meeting, though so far he felt no cause for concern. Thus, rather than let it burden him, he left the large traveling bag where it lay as he prowled into the bush, leaving the rider to his unpacking.

Coyote Kilduff

 

[Coyote Kilduff]

Coyote lets loose a soft snort of amusement at the man's complaints, a well-meaning, apologetic smile coming to his face. Coyote pulls the saddle from his horse's back and lays it on top of a rock, untangling and laying the girths, crupper, and collar flat.

"I s'ppose you're right about that."

"I was thinkin' of setting up camp here anyways. Havin' some company doesn't sound too bad." he says, eyeing around, before remarking about checking for game.

Coyote gives a high sign as he digs around in the pack, pulling out a couple of rough little bags, one empty, one full, and gives them a toss at the pot.

Vulps leaves his bag as he slinks off, and Coyote smirks again, going about to gather up a little kindling and fire wood.

"Knock em' dead, Vulps."

---

Vulpesen