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Swamp Thing he/him
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#1





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     After spending some days in Tortuga, he had decided to move on once again. Swamp Thing went along the beach mostly this time. Usually he stuck to more of the swamp lands and streams, but he felt like more of an adventure could come from this. He had gotten a good amount of enjoyment from interacting with one pack, so he figured why not try befriending another? As long as he didn’t get into their politics, he figured there wouldn’t be much of a problem. They could entertain one another for some time, and then move on with whatever else happened in life. As well, Swamp Thing wasn’t ready to settle down yet. It would be a good idea to go around, see if he had options. Maybe if he was friendly enough and didn’t get in anyone’s way then he could go almost to any water. Plus, most of these groups were canines or cats or the sorts. They didn’t live in the water where Swamp Thing did.


     After swimming for what he could guess was days, he found himself resting on a dark sandbar. The closer to he got to the mainland, the stronger the scent of a pack got. Maybe they would be friendly as well, or at least give the hellagator some entertainment for some while. Even if he was received with negative response, it would still be more fun than nothing happening. It would suck, yes, but then he could learn and grow. But he had a feeling that he wouldn’t be chased off - it didn’t cross his mind that he would actually be hard to be chased off. Swamp Thing slunk down the sandbar, towards the beach, claws digging into the sand with each step. Usually the sand under the water was dark, but not when it touched land. It interested the hellion, as he tried to scoop some up with each step.

     Although he felt some hunger, he decided to refrain from fishing. Even if no one could probably put a stop, or even cared about, to his fishing, he didn’t want to come off as rude. Instead, he would lay with the water to one side of him, and the packlands to the other. The water still brushed up on his side, as with how close he stayed to the water. Even if he could stop himself from hunting, he couldn’t stop the drooping of his eyes, as he started to doze off. If anyone came across him, maybe they would leave him be, or gently wake. Then he would put out more energy, but for now, he found it was a chance to relax and getting a small break in.








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(This post was last modified: March 13, 2018, 02:22:44 AM by 000.)

Over the months Ahote had grown rather fond of the coast.
The ocean, for him, held a sort of nostalgia to it, as well as mystique.
The vast expanse of saltwater gave him something else to strive for, now that he'd reached the end of the world.
What might lie beyond that horizon?

He'd found how to take fish from the sea using altered techniques that he'd learned back in his subtropical homeland.
He had always quite enjoyed the taste of fish, and although the fish off these shores had a starkly different taste to the river fish he was used to, he still found it a much better alternative to the mammals he'd been hunting previously.

Much as he liked red meat, now that he knew wolves could talk, so to speak, could even communicate with them somewhat, he had begun to wonder whether it was the same for other beasts.
Did the bison he ate, the deer he hunted have just as much intellect?
He didn't want to entertain such an idea, but he couldn't help it.
If one was possible, then why not the other?

Perhaps the birds did as well, perhaps even the spiders in the summertime?

He didn't want to kill, much less consume, anything that held just as much thought as he.
At the same time, however, what else was he going to eat?
It wasn't as though a man could live off leaves and twigs.

Fish had always been seen as something separate, something primitive.
Maybe he'd remain fortunate enough to stave off such thoughts of speaking fish for a while longer.
Their meat always tasted so differently to the animals of the land, just as one could separate the taste of sea and sky.
Surely there had to be a reason for that?

Ahote wasn't fishing now.
No, he wasn't hungry; ever since settling into a territory, he was able to sustain himself much more than before.
The first truly full belly had even come as a shock, driving him to take ill for a few days.

Today he was enjoying the warming weather.

He was skipping rocks off the water, watching them fly across the surface before the waves consumed them.
He sighed, but smiled.
This was so much easier on a lake, a body far stiller than the riled sea.

He walked while he tossed the rocks, his gaze eventually settling on something resting in the ashen sand.
What was that--driftwood?
He drew closer at a casual pace, soon stopping when he recognized the form.

An alligator...no way--this far north?
And beside the ocean, too?
Not only that, but it was enormous!

He stared curiously at it, noting the subtle rising and falling of its sides.
He wondered...keeping a careful distance from the massive beast, the human called out a cautious, gentle greeting to it in the tongue of the Gemini wolves.
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    In all honesty, the weirdest thing Swamp Thing thought he would see in these lands were hellhounds or hellcats, or something as odd as him. He didn’t catch whatever the human had said, but he rolled over, kicking sand up as he moved to peer at the creature that had awakened him from his sleep. How long had he been out? From the looks of it, not too long, but enough to rest his muscles after swimming for hours. There was still a soreness and stiffness in his legs, but he could rest some more before working the issues out. Swamp Thing looked at the human, somewhat confused. Humans were cautious, he thought, and didn’t approach wildlife. Well, that’s what he had been told. Don’t fuck with humans, they all said. Their bodies are weak and unprotected but they make it up with their tools and smarts, and sometimes with their canine allies. Was this entire pack his canine allies?

    Swamp Thing rolled over move, then pushed the front of his body up, sitting like a dog.  “I woulda never thought I’d run into a human.” He scratched at the scales by his neck. “Can ya understand me, human?” He would get to his feet, slowly moving closer. “If ya can, I ain’t gonna hurt ya, ya follow me?” Even if there was a mutual understanding, Swamp Thing would move slowly towards the human, and stopping about ten feet in front of him. He had questions, but most of it was because he never got a chance to get close to a human. They usually attacked, or he left  before they got the chance. He thought maybe his leaving fast had been the issue, and maybe he would have had a human friend before if he had waited to see their intentions. He mentally shrugged, deciding it didn’t matter. Nothing he could do to change the past.

    “Is this yer home? I thought this was a pack. Are ya living with a pack?” Words slipped out before he could even think of the fact that maybe the human didn’t understand him. Should he be alone with this human, anyways? He knew that a human was probably useful in many ways, and what if this was their precious, useful human? Swamp Thing swallowed hard, and started to shimmy backwards, putting a few more feet of space between them, without speaking aloud his reasoning. The last thing he wanted was to get in trouble just because he had to say hello to a creature he had never met before.




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(This post was last modified: April 09, 2018, 12:57:13 AM by 000.)

Ahote stood tensely as he awaited a reaction from the massive reptile, and took an instinctive step back upon the moment it first rolled over, only to thereafter quirk a brow at its curiously canine posture when it took a seat.
A response did arrive, and the human got to work mentally picking out the words he knew and stringing them together for meaning.

Even with the assurance that it meant no harm, still he stepped back again when the animal began to move once more, slowly dragging itself towards him, and he had to steel himself until it was close enough so that conversation could be had at an easy volume.

The man nodded at the first few questions.
"Sí; I understand," he answered (at first in Spanish, having to correct himself quickly), pausing and listening to the second set.
"Wolf here," he confirmed, visibly relaxing when the animal released the proximity it had been holding, allowing more distance between the two.
"I live here."

Tentatively he rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture someone familiar with him might recognize as a sign that he might be holding something back.
/'Is this yer home?'/
That was the one he hesitated on answering.
He'd been living here for a while, so it only seemed natural to call it a home, but that almost suggested the wolves were in part his family...what a strange idea.
He hadn't truly gotten close to anyone here, not even the other human, so that alone put the concept out of the question.
In the end he decided to skip over it, instead redirecting the conversation to the stranger.

He pointed at the gator.
"You live here?"
It spoke wolf, so why not?
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