cooking birds.

[missed a few posts...]


Starling Morningmist

Mon 10:29PM EST
Slowly crossing her legs beneath her to lower to a seat across from Santiago. Her features pure American Indian. Dusky bronzed skin, dark eyes and hair, high cheekbones.

"I have not seen you in this area before. It does not mean you haven't been here, just that you are new to my eyes."

If Nathaniel had spotted him, he sure hadn't told her.

"And yes, I know how to clean a bird. May I offer you a drink?"


Santiago

Mon 10:33PM EST
"If you please," and he tosses a bird at her. Hard to tell if he meant he'd like a drink, or if he'd like her to clean the bird, or both. On his side of the fire, feathers fly. A click of a folding knife before he starts to gut the first bird.

"I moved in recently. A month? Not long. I live in the Coggie village, in one of Kimber's cabins." Black eyes, reflective as obsidian, flicker around the camp. "Looks like you've been set up for a while." A nod toward Nathaniel's spears, or whatever else he might have left around - subtle marks of his presence. Subtle, but Santiago's desertbred nighthawk eyes miss nothing. "Your mate's?"


[missed a few more posts...]


Starling Morningmist

Mon 10:49PM EST
A few moments later a basket lowers from the dark to dangle just above the ground near the trunk of the tree. Then the rustling of branches again and she drops down to land, knees bending to take the impact.

"How do you like living in the cabins?"

Making small talk while retrieving the drinks from the basket. Turning to approach him, extending one hand to offer him the can.


Santiago

Mon 10:52PM EST
"Thanks," accepting, bloody hands and all. Pophiss goes the tab. He takes a pull from the can, sitting back down. Beneath straight black eyebrows, eyes just as black might seem to dance with amusement, but it's just a trick of the light when it comes down to it. Santiago earned his deedname.

Shrugging, he chuckles. "I like it. It's quiet." A nod at her incredible amazing tree(house). "How do you like living in a tree?"


Starling Morningmist

Mon 10:54PM EST
Laughing softly with a glance at the tree.

"Well, it takes a little getting use to, but it's quiet out here and as long as it's not real windy, it's kinda nice. Though when a storm blows in I swear it's like being at sea."

Holding her stomach and puffing her cheeks out like trying to hold in vomit.

"Ya know what I mean?"


Santiago

Mon 10:59PM EST
He watches her for a moment, blank incomprehension at the idea of being off the ground. Or being at sea, for that matter. Then, slowly, a grin parts his lips. His teeth are a white flash in his face, the skin sun-swarthy, the hair black and trimmed neatly short on scalp and chin both.

"I don't have a clue." He laughs, and drinks, easygoing - blood on his hands, blackness in his eye. "I've never been to sea, either. But I'm beginning to imagine. So what's Nathaniel like? Wendigo? Uktena?" The usual guesses, one supposes, when someone insists on living in a tree with his native american mate.


Starling Morningmist

Mon 11:03PM EST
"Wendigo."

Rising again to head off a short distance into the underbrush. Coming back with a metal pail, setting it down near him.

"In case you want it."

Nodding to the pail and the water within.

"Do you mind if I ask what you are?"

It was obvious with his words of mate and tribes, he was one of them or big trouble. Big trouble came in many forms, and sometimes those forms smiled before they killed you.


Santiago

Mon 11:10PM EST
"Strong tribe," his only comment to that. "Thank you." Whatever he is, someone taught him his manners. The third bird is plucked and gutted, and he stands up to find a suitable spit.

At her question he turns. A beat. Then a smile that does not show teeth. "I'm a Forseti of Great Fenris." - and waits for the inevitable surprise to pass through her eyes. The image of a Get varied, but certain things remained constant. Chief among them, the Nordic features. The pale eyes, blond hair, hard-angled face.

Santiago had black eyes. Black hair. Wide, high, smooth cheekbones, and a rounded, open brow. His ancestors did not come from Scandinavia and Germania. They came from Spain, settled in the deserts, bred with the natives, believed fervently in the One True God who died on the cross.

Santiago spits the birds on a stick, sets it up over the fire, and waits for his dinner to cook. Only then does he wash his hands in the pail of water, red running to pinken the water.


Starling Morningmist

Mon 11:14PM EST
"I was born Uktena. Though to most whites, we all look alike. No matter which tribe you speak of. Wendigo, Uktena, Sioux, Miami, on and on. Indian is what they see."


Santiago

Mon 11:17PM EST
Santiago thinks a moment. Gives the birds a turn. Nods. "True enough. Does that bother you?"


Starling Morningmist

Mon 11:19PM EST
"Nah, I find it amusing for the most part. And in most cases we have it better than other races that aren't white."

Glad he had finished with the guts. Her stomach calming down now.

Not making any comments on his coloring compaired to his trible.

"What brings you not only out here, but to this part of the world?"


Santiago

Mon 11:25PM EST
Quirk of an eyebrow. "That's an odd thing to say. Most people would argue the other way around."

Another turn of the birds. Another sip of coke. His black eyes flicker down to the fire, and he shrugs his shoulders. "Would you believe sightseeing?" His mouth curves.

"I grew up in the Chihuahua desert, and then I lived in New Mexico. I've been landlocked all my life, and I've only ever lived in the wild." He's older than the average Cliath, Santiago - mid-20s at least. Twenty years in the desert. "This place, though," a nod over his shoulder at the world at large, "it's close to the sea. And close to New York City." A grin. "But not too close."


Kennedy

Mon 11:28PM EST
The path was long and dark, small in comparison to some of the bigger deer trails, that cut its way through the dense line of trees. One would have to wonder what she was doing out here.. again. Late in the wee hours of night with no moon to shed light upon her way. A small turn of her head, as it tilts upward, casts a spray of pale blond hair from her dark-skinned featured. Skin, tanned and weathered by the sun's rays. Leaves and twigs sweep along course fabric in a soft hiss. Black nylon BDU's cling to the girl's narrow hips, tucked into the tops of her scuffed combat boots. A black t-shirt stretches across her chest, only adds to the nightime camoflauge as Kennedy made her way, as stealthly, as she could. Keen eyes, like twin pools of obsidian, scoped out the terrain, spying the dim light casted by a cooking fire. She made her way towards the light, drawn to it, out of curiosity.


Starling Morningmist

Mon 11:28PM EST
Smiles slowly, wondering why he was really here.

"Sightseeing. Me too."

Crossing her legs at the ankles and reaching for a stick to toss in the fire.

Santiago

Mon 11:35PM EST
His eyes meet hers for a moment. The smile remains, but he doesn't say anything more. They all had their reasons.

"Birds should be done in a little while." She hadn't plucked or gutted the fourth bird, but three fair-sized waterfowl should be enough. Nightblinded by the fire, Santiago doesn't notice Kennedy creeping up until the girl's almost into the clearing. The classic twig snapping, or perhaps just the movement at the corner of his eye, brings Santiago swinging about. The rifle is in his hand as though it had leapt there of its own accord, and leveling to his shoulder in the same liquid motion with which he turns.

Recognition. Relaxation. He lowers the rifle almost as soon as he's raised it. The moment of swift motion passes before it truly culminates. The gun returns to its place by the tree, blending with the shadows, and he offers the palehaired girl a smile.

"Evening, Kennedy. Just in time for dinner. This is Starling, Nathaniel's mate. Starling, Kennedy." He reaches forward to give the birds a turn. Fat drips into the fire and hisses. "Kennedy is kin to my tribe."


Billy Bedlam

Mon 11:37PM EST
another run through the Wendigo territory and he finishes up as is the nightly ritual at Nathaniel and starling's Camp. coming in through the back way, Hearing someone unfamiliar t the barrens in the camp, he unslings a bow and knocks an arrow before becoming visible...on edge lately...even his teeth on edge.


Matthew Burk

Mon 11:39PM EST
There's always something to find in the forests. He'd slept, he'd woken up, and now he'd gone off wandering again. Trying to get used to everything and everyone around the place he's going to be staying. Of course, he had to get past all the defences that Billy had set up... but he'd gotten in, and he went out the exact same way. Of course, since it is him, Matthew is humming softly to himself as he wanders, until once again cooking meat attracts his attention.


Kennedy

Mon 11:59PM EST
(Ode to Billy Bedlam.. *just cuz he smells funny*)

The crack of twig was possible, or the rumbling of hunger pains deep in her gullet from the smell of meat frying on the pan, could have given away her presence. Who knows? The wiry girl slips up on the edge of the clearing, dark eyes widening as big as the full moon, when Santiago swings around in a quick, fluid movement to train the rifle on her.

"AIEEEEPPP!!! DON'T.SHOOT.I.DIDN'T.DO.IT.I.SWEAR!!!" the words rush out in a hiss as slim arms shoot straight up, above her head. She remains unblinking, her heart leaping into her throat. Lungs expand to hold a sharp intake of breath.

She doesn't relax until Santiago resumes his place by the fire, still her arms remain in the air. Her heart pounding in her chest. "Duuuude, don't you know you shouldn't point those things at people. Ya might blow somebody's head of.. Like MINE!!" her arms drops now to flop limbly at her sides. She approaches the fire, turning to stare at the cook fowl. Brows rising up and down a few times quizzically. "Man, I didn't know Colonel Sanders delivered all the way out here in but fuck egypt."


Santiago

Tue 12:04AM EST
...evidently the rifle-brandishing scared Starling up the tree as well. Santiago's ears are ringing from Kennedy's screech. "Sorry," a wry grin as he gestures at the birds. "Help yourself. Save half for me."

He remembers the other morning. Six greasy jumbo sausages downed like chips.

As Matthew and Billy show up as well, Santiago rises to his feet - alert, but not aggressive. The gun is within easy reach, though it stays where it is, leaned against the tree. He nods first to Matthew and then looks at Billy. Billy's bow and arrow, more specifically. "Nathaniel?" he guesses, incorrectly, but not without reason.


Matthew Burk

Tue 12:07AM EST
Well that helped find the camp.. not just the smell of cooking food, but the screech. He appears into view in just a few moments. Not silent, but not loud either. Of course, as it is who it is, Matthew has a smile on his face. He didn't get a gun pointed at him... that's a victory in his book. He's certainly had more than a few first meetings that went worse than this.
"Hello."


Billy Bedlam

Tue 12:11AM EST
He shakes his head, Santiago now sits staring at an obsidian arrowhead that looks like it can do a LOT of damage. "Guess again...and while you're at it...tll me where Starling is."


Santiago

Tue 12:13AM EST
"Upstairs." Utter cool, or the appearance thereof. The lean, swarthy man nods up. "Kennedy must've scared her away with the screech."

Starling's gone. But Kennedy, Matthew and Billy showed up. There's three birds on the fire, and the fourth is yet to be plucked. Santiago gets to it. That'll be his dinner. This isn't his camp, but those were his birds, and the laws of hospitality still applied.

Sitting down as he plucks the final bird, "Caught me a few birds," a nod at the three staked over the fire. "Saw the fire and thought I'd meet the neighbors."

To Matthew, a nod. "Hi. Santiago Eyes-Like-Flint. Cliath Forseti."


Billy Bedlam

Tue 12:19AM EST
He grunts and moves towards the fire. kneeling down, he he unslings a satchel from his shoulder and sets it down


Matthew Burk

Tue 12:19AM EST
"Hi. Matthew Burk, Wide Eyes. Cliath Angalkuq."
What was a Forseti? It was Fenrir, that he knows.. but the rest, no clue. So, he gives Santiago the same in return. But since there seems to be so many natives around, well, Santiago'll probably figure his out first. No matter. It's not like he wants to hide it.
A glance over at the birds, and Matthew furrows his brow a little, thinking.
"I take it hunting's allowed in these parts?"


Kennedy

Tue 12:22AM EST
She looks around at the new people that emerge from the woods. Dark brows raising upward for a brief moment as introductions are placed. She bites her tongue, humming under her breath. Furballs.. All of'em. Or maybe just two of'em. She walks half-way, stopping just beyond the edge of the fire. Black eyes, fathomless in their depths, sweep over the cook fowl once more. She ignores the rumble in her gullet, dropping down to a crouch. Content for now to listen to the introductions.


Santiago

Tue 12:23AM EST
Santiago grins as an equally incomprehensible answer comes back. "Sorry. Old habit. Cliath Half-Moon of Great Fenris."

It might be noted that Santiago looks nothing like a Fenrir of stereotype and lore. Mexico, and before that Spain, runs thick in his blood. His skin is sunbrowned and his features rounded, cheekbones wide and high, eyes and hair dark.

He shrugs. "I wouldn't know." Another smile. "I'll find out sooner or later if it's not, I suppose." A nod to the birds and stands up, slinging the rifle easily over his shoulder. "Help yourself. I think the hostess disappearing is a hint that I've overstayed my welcome. You can find me in the Coggie cabins if you need me."