Any Beast Care to Bandy Blades?

* The scarlet sun dipped low on the horizon as the ringtail made his way towards the sparring pits. Too many nights in the tavern and not enough on training made the Admiral feel the need for a good workout. A cool breeze off the sea ruffled his sleek headfur as Red made a turn inland to where soft sand had been separated into different areas for sparring.

The rays of the dying sun harelded the final call of many a sea bird as they winged their way to the ocean cliffs and a nights rest from fishing. Shadows lengthened, his own drawing out in front of him like some black spectre. As he walked Raps drew his rapier from its sheath at his side. The blade gleamed crimson as it reflected the quickly fading sunset. A flash glinted in Red's good eye, he hoped there would be a beast wanting to cross weapons with him at the pits.
As he walked the ringtail ran a paw over the cold tempered steal of his blade, habitually checking for its icey edge.

Coming to the pits at last and sheathing his blade, Red allowed his eyes to adjust to the lighting. This was a night when the sparring pits were light for those wishing to practice late. He watched a sentry mouse trot about the place with a flaming torch. He set the tall tourches near each pit to light, casting a dancing deep orange and red glow about the place. The Admiral stood by, his short cape fluttering lightly in the calm breeze. He waited, wondering who else would be wanting a spar this night. *

OOC:Why not?

BIC:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Sparring Pits
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kalahund was not usually a beast to stay around at the sparring pits late, but sometimes he made exceptions. A mug of warm grog, a speciality of Port Crimson lay in his right paw, imported from the said area for him and him alone. It was rare to see Kalahund drinking again, but it was one of the few pastimes that he had, besides hanging around the Sparring Pits, chatting with beasts who were both unknown and more fit to/than him. He enjoyed these talks, for he knew much more than them, and often taught them tricks which he had learned in the past.

The wolf enjoyed being superior, and he knew it. It was pure arrogance that kept him here, as the last rays of sun vanished behind the hills, sipping at his grog with a lazy eye to his surroundings. He was here for the enjoyment of, not only being alone, a luxury that had been his for the last...however long since the Keelhaul had sailed, and also for the simple fact that any who saw him here would look upon him with awe, assuming that he was some champion fighter, who ruled this ring with an iron fist. At the thought, the wolf almost laughed.

But then, he did rule it like a king, like one who was used to and knew power like an old friend, an unforgotten lover. Grinning, the wolf sighted Raps, standing like a spectre from a prosaic and utterly generic play. "Eh, Jo'?" A young ferret, in awe of the wolf, rushed up, his body shaking with the want to serve. "Why don't you ask 'im what he wants here?" The ferret nodded and rushed to do Kalahunds bidding.

The wolf watched the hare as the shadows lengthened over the calm and beautiful ocean.

* The colors of the sky and earth changed slowly from blood red to the black of night. The last hints of warmth vanished from the air, being replaced by a chill breeze. The ringtail had long since noticed the wolf standing on the other side of the pits, his frame sillouetted in shadows. Red marked this beast out as Kalahund, a frequent at the pits.

Rapsydeo's good eye sparkled as he watched the wolf exchange a few words with a hare. He did not know what they were speaking about, which made no difference one way or the other to him. Thinking that perhaps the wolf or hare might be interested in a match, Red decided to make his way over to where they stood. Placing a paw on the hilt of the blade at his side, the ringtail moved easily in the direction of the pair.

As he walked, the hare seemed to be making his way towards Red. The Admiral stopped short, waiting to see what he would say. *

OOC:Sorry, Raps, I might not be active all the time. Also, I sent a ferret and thought you were a hare. Now I see you are a ringtail. Sowwy. Oh, and sorry for how short the post is; I don't have much time right now.

BIC:

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Sparring Pits
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kalahund's fur ruffled as he felt a soft breeze coming through. He smiled, feeling sweat fly off his headfur and land farther away. Kalahund was content letting the breeze blow, a zephyr of change, heralding something new. Kalahund, of course, didn't care. Whether new or old, he was happy lazing his days away in eternal indolence.

Striding up to Rapsydeo Taung, the ferret said in a bold and clear voice, "Kalahund would like a fight, sir."

"Kalahund would like a fight, sir."

* The ringtail watched the ferret approach, and listened with half attention as he spoke. The gaze of the Captain was fixed on the shadowed figure of the wolf. The way the beast stood afar, sending a lacky to speak with the Admiral, caused an instant dislike to arise in Rapsydeo. He was never one to enjoy beasts who thought more of themselves than they ought. Red turned his good eye towards the ferret, raising one eyebrow in a questioning manner. *

Is that true eh? Perhaps Kalahund thinks himself to busy to come and ask me to duel with him? You can tell your wolf matie that if he wishes to fight, he can come speak with me himself...or perhaps he does not lower himself to speak with others before he crosses blades with them?

* The ringtail himself was a bit surprised at his response to the ferret's question. His voice granted from deep in his throat, a cold expression lacing his features. He kept his eye averted from the ferret after speaking, his vision locked on the figure of the wolf. *


OOC: No worries about slow responses...I don't mind waiting, especially since I can't respond that often either.

OOC:Apologies for not posting; my comp was being irritating. Expect a post later this week, and a good, full-sized one. ~Kala'~

OOC:Merry Christmas, Raps. My gift to you - a post. If you've read Uncle Tom's Cabin, you'll recognize a referance. It isn't a great post, but it's good enough to get things started. ~Kala's player~

BIC:

The wolf's eyes sparkled with delight He could hear the anger and vehemence in Rapsydeo Taung's voice, even where he was, away, almost out of the conversation. Kalahund could tell that the other, the ringtail, had a stronge sense of justice, a commitment to the higher arts (or, to one of Kalahund's temperment, the lower arts) and would stop at nothing to achieve those higher - or lower - goals.

The wolf could have almost admired him. He was an idealist, one who would not stop. Kalahund's very problems lay in the other extreme - he thought, and yet did nothing. He was the Augustine Saint Clair of beasts, one who considered what he was doing was wrong, and yet continued to act with an apathy which did no justice to his mind or his intentions, but to his bodily and physical control.

"Aye, ringtail, com'ere, You were talking to me, I believe? Ah, yah." Kalahund shifted in his seat, ignoring the young ferret who looked startled at the wolf's hearing capabilities. It was the ringtail who mattered.