A Yak, An Ox, and a Bear. Oh My! (Belgar)

[Krivak]

Timestamp: Winter 55, AV Time: Midday Location: The White Elk Stables Who: Belgar Krivak was just outside the stables, looking through the penned area that housed the local muskox herd. He'd been watching them for a few bells now, ever since he'd heard some strange bellowing earlier in the morning. The males had been arguing all morning but being a yak he couldn't fully understand their bellows. But it sounded like there was going to be some duels today. He wanted to watch and see how the males here fared, watch them fight. He knew he could beat them all, but he could always learn a trick or two from the young bulls. Krivak wondered why they didn't have an older bull as the dominant. Is it because they are kept by the people instead of being wild? Two of the young bulls began to pair off, at a twice charge's length away. The two charged at each other, heads lowered, galloping slower than Krivak would've thought. The two collided with a thick crack, and separated once more. Krivak saw that one of the bulls looked a good bit more stunned than the other. The victor had already been decided, it just wasn't over yet. As the two charged once more, a young Frostfawn mistakenly opened the gate to the pen. So when the injured yak shamefully turned tail to run, he had a lot more room to go. The young bull, scared, injured, and shamed, was charging out of the pen, just missing the young Frostfawn, who yelped in surprise. His charge carried him into the large White Elk Stables where Krivak was housed. The young bull was going to be a problem, and was now in his grazing ground. Krivak bellowed, and charged after the young bull, who sounded like he was kicking up a ruckus inside. Krivak arrived inside and all of the animals were bellowing in fear or excitement, it was quite deafening. He saw the young bull over by the far end, where the door was open, but not enough for him to squeeze through. The scared animal had butted several stall doors, which now hung open, the animals inside fearful and looking to flee when they could. Krivak bellowed a challenge at the bull, and stamped his feet and snorted. A few horses and deer managed to escape their pins and littered the path between them, one slipping by and charging out the door. This was chaos, a handful of Frostfawns were struggling to try and keep the peace, but it was just too much for them.

[Belgar]

And then an earth-shaking roar arrested the chaos, hung on the air and stung the ears.

Not all of the beasts stopped at the interruption; many that did proceeded to stir up a greater frenzy out of terror. All directed their eyes to the source of the terrible noise: at the head of the stables, between the animals and their only real escape, stood a giant white predator with his teeth bared. The door lingered in shock to one side, where he had knocked it open in the passion of duty. In the next second, his flaring fur settled again and his black eyes were scanning the scene.

Belgar knew how sensitive these animals were. He had seen young ungulates die for fear, hearts stopped by simple minds trying to fathom the threat of a dire bear. He knew he had to be gentle. Some of the Frostfawn sighed relief where they could close swinging doors in front of stunned animals; others glared contempt where they were forced to try and calm the hysterical ones. The bear could offer to help later, he decided, after he had neutralized the source of the problem.

It was not difficult to find. He leered at the muskox before him, which instantly cowered and bowed its head, kneading the ground with its hooves, fidgeting with shame and distress and dread. Its ears twitched as the last of Belgar’s roar tickled at its senses, but soon enough a kind and cooing stable girl had put her hand on its shoulder and was leading it back to its pen.

It had left a trail of fleeing hoof prints in the dirt and dust of the stable floor. Belgar followed the tracks backward, feeling the discomfort of the building’s closeness at the front of his mind as he padded carefully into the stables. At their end stood a yak. The air stank of its angry snorts, particles of blame between the pervading stench of adrenaline. There was no way to know this animal was a Kelvic, as the scent of shifting djed stays on a body for only so long. So Belgar snorted back at the creature in the primal language he knew it would understand. You are to blame, the short breath said, and his glaring eyes threatened, Go back.

[Krivak]

A deafening invaded the area, deep, booming. Krivak knew that sound, it belonged to one of the few threats to a yak in the wild. It was a bear. And he guessed it to be one of giant white ones in the city. Krivak could make out a shift in the animals' conditions. Several stopped raising cane, while several more started. Krivak shook his head in annoyance, this was going to be difficult. And then the bear appeared. It was massive. And then the bear seemed to be blaming him for this. This did not sit well at all with Krivak. Or his short fused temper. Krivak glared at the bear. He knew he wouldn't attack the bear, who after all, was an enforcer of peace for the city, but he wouldn't take this like a cow. Krivak summoned some fury from within him and let loose a warning bellow at the bear. Loud, from his core, usually strong enough to scare off any other predator. Then Krivak tried to convey through grunts that the bear should stick to his own kind and allow bulls to manage calves, and that he himself was trying to help. He was not backing down or taking such an idiotic accusation.

[Belgar]

The bear saw predictable stubbornness in the roars and mutterings of a frustrated animal. The yak was male, he could see as well as smell; it seemed Belgar had offended its standing in attempting to intimidate it back to its pen, and he knew there would be no renouncing the gesture. He could not know that this beast understood more than it could communicate, so he used what he remembered of faunal conversation. He stepped back and lifted a curling paw from the ground, conceding a fraction more of space between them, squinting annoyance at the noisy creature. Perhaps, it would think the display one of submission, and be satisfied enough to leave the rest.

There was no punishment here, at the stables. The animals could be forgiven because of what they were. It was the boy’s fault the young ox was loosed, the workers’ fault that the doors had not been secured enough to keep the livestock in. It was the Kelvic’s fault that half the place had risen in a terrified frenzy. The problem of the yak’s blame was not solved by punishment, because it was understood that he could no fathom it. Krivak needed only to leave, but it seemed his pride would not let him.

And so, carefully, Belgar moved his raised paw toward the yak. With the back of his massive wrist, he pushed lightly on its large shoulder blade. To some, it was the urging gesture it was intended to be. To others, it was an assault.

[Krivak]

Krivak watched with a faint curiosity as the bear attempted some sort of strange gesture. Krivak didn't know what it meant, but he found it mildly humorous. It looked like the bear was wanting to dance or something. Krivak grunted out a chuckle, his annoyance and temper abated. The bear tried to nudge him along, but Krivak had to check on the other. He pushed past the bear lightly, his necklace with Allana's bracer catching on some fur, and ripping out a few strands. If the bracer were inspected further, one might find the name Krivak or Allana engraved into it, words that Krivak himself couldn't even read. He gave it a few grunts, asking if it was alright, and scolding it for being so stupid. The grunts were returned with a sign of shame. Krivak, satisfied, turned and began going around Belgar to head back out to the paddock. The gate was now closed, the rest of the herd agitated. Krivak made his way over to the gate, and began finagling with the mechanism with his horn. He knew it would unlock and allow him to pass into the paddock. And a single chime later it was open. He hooked a horn into the gate and swung it open. Then he stepped inside, hooked a horn once more, and walked backwards until it was shut. The Frostfawns that were around had seen this strange event before, knowing what he was. But they all remembered that first mind boggling time. This yak was no yak.

[Warden]

-Belgar- Skill Points: Intimidate 2 Lore: Scaring Livestock into Submission Notes: What an animal house! We need an ox whisperer. And a bear one. And a yak one too I guess. Why are they called whisperers anyway? It's not like they actually whisper animals into obeying. So why not call them animal pushers? And another thing...