The Kingdom 2
That name rang in his ears as soon as it left the lion's lips... "Torgon" and general now no less. Memories from long ago started to creep into Dee's brain of his early days just when he started out on this lifetime long walkabout....
Being of high ambition and little wisdom, he started out in the fall with the delusion that he could travel as far as he could before the snows came and then endure the winter in a cabin. What a strong headed fool he was then (and some would argue he still is!). He hiked as far as his poor footpaws could take him before the first snowflake landed on his nose, then a storm's worth of others helped set in reality for the young yote. The cold indifference of winter left Dee under a foot of snow the first night. His fluffy winter coat and shelter under an evergreen tree got him through the night, but he could not survive that for the whole winter.
Having realized the graveness of his situation, he started at once to dig into a hillside using little more than a stick carved flat like a chisel. It took effort and energy, but the exertion kept him warm. At the very least he was a good hunter judging by the weight of dried deer and rabbit meat in his satchel. Little by little he dug out a hole in the side of the hill, having to cut through roots and shore up the opening with thick sticks he cut from surrounding trees. It took him all day to clear an opening large enough to resemble a doorway and then extend it a few feet inside. Like a fool he managed to work up a sweat with this task and spent most of the night shivering and chilled under the same tree as before.
Day after day of digging and shoring and hauling rocks out had resulted in a respectable den that extended from its opening into the hillside to a room that measured roughly 8ft deep by 12 long, and a ceiling not much higher than his head. Bows from an evergreen tree tied together with stalks of underbrush made a door that shed water and keep the wind from reaching in and touching a slumbering yote. His bed left much to be desired since it was little more than a ledge of dirt with leaves and underbrush piled on it, but it was good enough for now and already was better than the cold ground itself. The flat stones he found while digging the room out served as material to build a small fireplace stove with a chimney that protruded a little further up the hillside out of a rotted out log. After blistering his paws, countless splinters and coming a hair width away from lopping his thumb off with his knife, the young coyote had created a home for himself that would help with surviving the long cold winter of the northern lands.
He had gone through most all of his food in the couple weeks it took him to build his home and lately his stomach was reminding him of it constantly. With his knife he cut a straight thick branch and carved it down to a smooth club-like shape that would make little noise when it was hucked through the air, his tool of choice for the bounty of snowshoe hares that he'd seen around. Aided by his sensitive nose and keen eyesight, Dee carefully stalked next to the tracks left in the snow from a hare that passed by a short time ago. He followed them for an hour before he caught up to their owner, a white snowshoe hare that sat motionless amidst the similarly white snow. If it weren't for its black eyes and tuft at the tip of its ears he would have startled it before he'd actually seen it. Luck would have it that the wind drifted his scent away from the hare and it still did not show that it had seen him.
Excitement bubbled up over the hunger pangs in his gut as he drew back his throwing stick and sent it hurling sideways towards the hare, who in seeing this sudden movement perked up just before the wood met its skull and sent the animal reeling sideways in the snow. A hungry coyote was quick to follow just in case the club had made a bad hit, teeth bared and knife drawn he made short work of the squirming rabbit, ending its life with a sharp bite to the neck and shake. Blood from the hare contrasted the pristine snow as Dee gnawed and tore at the hare's carcass to liberate meat from bone and guts from belly; painting his muzzle and paws with the steaming sanguine stain of an act carried out by his ancestors for as long as the two species existed together. With a full belly and fresh hide, he made his way back home through the beautiful quiet woods where snow on the bows of the evergreens hushed every sound but the wafting hiss of wind touching the very tops of them.
---Indignation---
As Dee neared his den, his pace slowed and confusion crept in. He was sure he closed the door, but now it hung half off the doorway. With a furrowed brow and naive thought he walked in closer and froze in his tracks when he laid eyes on the paw prints of another. The coyote's hackles rose along with a sick feeling in his gut when he saw how big those other tracks were next to his own, but he didn't recognize the shape. The tracks were all around the entrance to his den as well as along the path he used to skirt the hillside to reach level ground. With as many prints around in the snow it was difficult to say if whatever beast made them was still here or how many there were.
Against his better judgment the coyote made his way up to the door with all of his senses attuned to what may be inside. The first indication of occupancy was a harsh scent that met his nose, one of beastly foulness combined with the earthen tones of the evergreen bow door cover and the dirt floor of his dug out home. At first whiff he scrunched his nose up and flattened his ears against his head, truly potent after smelling nothing but fresh clean winter air for so long. Some sort of adrenaline soaked boldness pushed him on to open the door further and make his way inside, albeit cautiously and with his heart in his throat. The scent that stung his nose moments before saturated his senses and made him dizzy, making memories flood back of how the older males in his tribe smelled when he was close enough to enjoy the scents of their bodies.
His half-lidded eyes snapped open when a gravely snore tore through the silence and his dirty memories, prompting the coyote to for once and for all determine what manner of beast was in his home. He pressed on further into the room. In the dim light that shone in from the doorway behind him, the body of a gnoll rest before Dee's eyes. He could not keep his hackles from raising and lips pulling up into a snarl; so many stories has he been told in his youth of the beasts that kill indiscriminately, steal from those who have nothing, and rape men and women alike with unfettered brutality for little more than their own amusement. Indoctrinated anger began to make his blood boil and his paw reach for the knife sheathed on his belt, looking to end this beast's reign of terror on the mythological cities that were the stage for such stories told to frighten young coyotes. Though still young he was not completely stupid and brash, for before he could make his strike the light also revealed the state of the beast's body... much larger and muscled than his own but showing signs of an ailment he himself has known, prolonged hunger.
He stood there quietly watching the gnoll rest on the bed he made for himself, not noticing that the rest of his den showed signs of being rifled through blindly by a hungry, strong animal. Cursed compassion cooled the anger and surprise that made his heart pound so loud in his chest and pulse in his ears, being replaced by a false sense of comfort from thinking just because the gnoll is stricken weak with hunger that he wouldn't be able to tear the yote in two and sate his belly's grumbles. With this new found boldness he stepped in closer and slowly reached out to run his fingertips over the gnoll's ribs that were showing through his pelt. He wore nothing more than a kilt adorned with some leather bags and pouch at the front, the fabric course wool on the outside with a softer weave on the inside. While Dee stood there admiring the thick build of the gnoll, he failed to notice the glint off eyes opening and drawing focus on the coyote standing above.
---Darkness---
The strong smell of dug earth filled Dee's nostrils as he slowly regained consciousness and realized the burning pain and intense dull ache on the side of his head. He reached a paw up to it and felt the flesh, but pulled his paw back at the sensation of pain. His paw felt sticky with partially dried blood. What the hell happened? In a few moments the memory of what transpired crept back into frame... him reaching out to touch the gnoll, and the last memory of a powerful clawed paw coming at him. The gnoll! Fuck! He thought, mind racing to figure if the beast was still here, and what he did to him. Dee tried to move a little and quickly became aware of a wet muddy spot on the ground, and his own wet thigh fur. It seems amidst the surprise and injury he had pissed himself there on the floor of his den. Not really the best impression to make. The smell of fresh earth (as well as coyote urine) was tainted with a scent he could only attribute to the beast. Fear gripped him, he urinated again. Fuck.
A gravely cackling laugh boiled up from the silence in the dark den when Dee's bladder failed him, answering his wonder if the beast was still close. All he had the stomach for was to curl up into a fetal position and flatten his ears against his head, opening his maw to say something, perhaps a plea, but was not given the chance. The gnoll quickly pinned Dee's muzzle against the ground half open, making his squirm a little and wince his eyes shut. He could smell the earth again, but just barely in comparison to the scent of the hyena beast's musky scent glands on his footpaw. He stayed like this for a few moments, not knowing what was to come next, unable to move and unable to close his maw under that heavy paw. Just as he had the guts to open his eye again, a hot splash of potent urine made him close it and whine helplessly. The gnoll above him bore a sick grin as he marked the coyote below him, soaking the canine's face and open muzzle with a strong bitter mark. Dee sputtered and choked as that strong fluid splashed and washed his muzzle, partly from the taste of it and from the mud that pooled up around his face. The gnoll didn't seem to care that he was pissing on his own footpaw in the process of marking the coyote, and was still deciding if he was going to eat the smaller creature or use him for something else. It seemed like an eternity for the gnoll to drain his bladder onto Dee, who struggled weakly against the gnoll's footpaw. Apparently a bellyful of jerky and some sleep was all the gnoll needed to regain his strength, if at least temporarily.
Dee was relieved when the salty stream of piss subsided, finally able to breath again even though his breath drew in the stank of gnoll urine. His relief was short lived when that footpaw that was pinning his muzzle down lifted up and then booted him over onto his back, making Dee curl his tail up between his legs and flatten his ears to the sides. He didn't have any time to react before the gnoll's footpaw stuffed itself halfway into his muzzle, making the coyote gag and thrash. His struggling was quelled with a sharp snarling growl from the gnoll above him, then he heard the beast speak for the first time in a wicked sounding voice typical to his species "Now you lick it, little bitch". Those words fell on Dee's ears with quite some weight as the position he was in was verified. He had no choice now but to do as he was told or face the wrath of a much stronger, morally defunct monster. Dee opened his sore muzzle a little more and started to run his tongue over the footpaw that was stuffed inside, licking off the piss and dirt with a great deal of reluctance. He could look up and just barely see the gnoll grinning down at him, teeth bared and eyes filled with lust. Liiiiiiick, liiiiiiiiiiick, he went, slurping away over sole and pawpads, lacing his tongue between toes to soak them with his saliva. Once the dirt was gone the act was not all that unpleasant. If it wasn't for his aching head and prospect of destruction Dee would have enjoyed this much more. He did his best to suckle and lick at that gnoll's footpaw, ending up sucking on those clawed toes like he was felating them. In a few minutes of this treatment, the coyote had slurped away all traces of piss and filth from the gnoll's footpaw and replaced it with fresh saliva. It was almost like he has done this before.
When the gnoll pulled his foot away Dee just lay there on his back, paws pulled in to his chest and knees in a similar pose, trying to cover up the squishier parts of him in fear of further abuse. He will never know how close he was to being the gnoll's meal. His attention was drawn to the beast above him as he spoke "Now... are you going to sneak up on me while I'm sleeping ever again?" Dee flattened his ears to the side of his head and looked away, thinking for a moment before stammering "N-No...". He wasn't dumb, this was his fucking den and his fucking food and the gnoll just waltzed in and took over..... but he didn't have the gut to say that. His answer elicited a grin and nod from the gnoll. "Gooood yote" he crooned, "Glad we understand each other.... after all its just you and me out here for a very long ways". That last comment sort of struck Dee oddly, he had traveled far to be alone on his own, but why was the gnoll out in this remote area as well? He laid there pondering this for a moment trying to work out and answer when he realized that because there was no one around, there would be no one to help him if he needed it. He thought quickly and said "You look like you could use a.... another meal". Perhaps it might be nice having company, maybe those old stories about gnolls were wrong, maybe he's an idiot and will end up a pile of bones outside the den he built. Either way he spent too much energy building this place to start over again somewhere else.
Adapt. Think. Overcome. Survive.
-end of part 1-