Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » The Golden Kitsune

There is a legend that once in a million years that a kitsune is born with golden ears and a tale. They say if you see one you will have good luck forever, others say if you capture one, it will grant your every wish. A golden kitsune is a very strange thing to see, if you see one you will see a night full of shooting stars for three nights.
A woman with long golden hair, ears, and tail was running form a yet another group of people trying to capture her. As soon as she found a high tree she climbed it and got as high up as she could until she was out of sight. She covered her mouth as she heaved. She was thirsty and her mouth was dry. She watched the group of people to see if they would give up the chase and go home. She sat motionless, waiting.

Without modern conveniences, there was rare reason to hit the town--short of when the nymphs and dryads were in some sort of mood. A man with a red lion's mane of hair emerged from a stream when, finally tired of him, a school of fish blew by. He had seemed to hold his breath for hours, but that of all things seemed to make him stumble out, gagging. His body steamed off the water, and after some residual dry heaves he found the offending minnow pieced over his spiked shoulder. The opposite was feathered, and both evolved into snakeskin interrupted by fur and feathers, and eventually rougher scaling on his talons for hands. The chest had a natural blac, dragonscale breastplate, around and between the abdominals of which rusty fur plumed out. Oxen legs with cloven hoof were thicker than the goatish satyrs he was often compared to, and the bullish, jewel decorated horns certainly individualized him. He grumbled and cursed at the riverbed, holding back a few more riled coughs and cursing at the riverbed in (c)

--some forgotten tongue. He went quiet at the discontent rustling of the trees, all murmering to alert of nearby unrest. A hunt was one thing. A mob was another. The region of woods he inhabited he knew well, as by the vault over tilted log, a leap from opposing trees like springboards, and still a mostly silent landing in a tactically placed path of bare soil, which only let out a -whump.- Listening to the murmer in tree leaves, his one eye--the other covered in a patch--sought her out in the trees, and then followed to the nearby pursuers. Not one to expose himself needlessly, he waited to see if conflict arose. He was ready enough for that.

The kitsune noticed someone else that was not one of the people that were trying to capture her. She examined its unhuman like features. "Who is that?" she asked herself as she tilted her head in confusion. Her ears twiched as she heard the group of people talking amogest themselves and looked down at them, praying that they would leave her alone. This was the fifth chase this week and she just wanted people to leave her alone for one day so she could get a decent amount of water.

It became apparent they weren't going to leave on their own. He opted to draw attention to himself with heavy hoofsteps ruffling the forest. He might fall under attack, but that was nothing new by his gristled features. swelling his posture, he erupted from the foliage in four legged, hunched stance. His face was warped with false fury. His eyepatch, raised, displayed a void filled, tooth rimmed eye and the man's face stretched to let out the most beastial, borderline demonic roar that shook leaves from the trees, sent what birds the men had not scared flying and elsewise silenced the woods. Through his warcry, he shouted, distorted and infernal while attempting to even aurically radiate through his vibrations the fundamental idea of panic. "SHE WILL NOT BE YOURS, NOW LEAVE BEFORE YOU ARE MINE!" it was subtext to the lionesque trumpeting and draconic screeching which endured.

The features that came from the beast were startling but when he raised his voice it shook the tree. She tryed to hold on to one of the branches but it was no use. Before she knew it, she was plumiting towards the ground below her, closing her eyes to keep herself from seeing the ground below her getting larger by the second. This is it, I'm going to die! She thought to herself as ahe felt the blood rushing to her head. Everything was happening so fast she could not keep teack of it all.

He hadn't intended to make -her- fall, just her predators. He left a final snarl at the men who... Apparently hadn't attacked. Anyone within range of his tail, which distended to nearly five feet as he turned and spun, would be struck with a scorpion stinger as he swept to her side in a leap, catching her if so allowed and bounding off. Hopefully the men would panic over poison and be distracted. It did initially burn as if stung, but instead evolved into disturbing, lust-driven impulse; have fun with your suddenly sexual hunter hitting on you guys, because he was going to take the moment to return to springside, and squat in the waters to let her down. "If they have hounds, we will need to move. I did not intend to scare you, only them."

Ember was shooken from the fall. She finaly looked up to see the mand face to face. She noddod to what her said, holding her breath. "W-who are you?" She studered as she examined his features more closly. "T-thank you for saving me."

He set her down. "Just an old devil. Call me whatever you like. Even I am often unsure of who I am these days. ...and it's no trouble." he lifted his head, glancing about to ensure the forest wasn't being rustled by pursuers. "That should never be the method of hunting a woman of any creed." his voice was deep and gravelled, aged even past his late 30something features. He wasn't quite wearied yet, in this cycle. "I've a grove, if you need somewhere to stay." plop. a fish swept up against his hoof, and he suddenly backpedaled and damn near jumped out of the stream. He scolded the river in some ancient tongue, concise and gutteral.

Ember looked down into the water. "A place to stay, yes." Ember looked up and smiled at the man. "My name is Ember, what name do you go by?" Ember asked while sticking out her hand.

He nodded over his shoulder, preparing to turn and walk. When he held her, he had exhuded supernatural heat. The brief time in the water left him steaming. He stood there, turning to stare at her hand and assess the gesture. That intent varied culturally, but he took it as introduction. He extended his own hand, fingers tipped in dangerous talon, skin pleated with birdish scale, and fingers lined to the brim in varying rings. "That depends on where you might be from. I am oft called Pan, or Hors. I accept any name you feel may fit me." his hand in hers again radiated the surreal heat. His touch was surprisingly gentle, barely taking hold before slipping it back away. "This way." he resumed trodding off, stopping long enough to pluck a giant leaf. "Drag this behind you to cover your tracks. I'll obscure the scent." he did smell odd, like a powerful blend of herbs stifling out something else.

Ember took the leaf and dragged it, looking back to make shure her trackes had disappered. She looked in the direction she came, only getting a glance of the confusion of the men that were chasing here befor they disappered. "So where are we going?" She asked turning back to him.

"...one of my local haunts." he lept the same log he had rushed past before. "I prefer anywhere to sit and think in peace." he offered his hand to help her clear the log, giving a good pull. Thicker overgrowth had to be brushed aside, revealing a close knit grotto full of bottles, glass and clay both.

Ember looked around, examining the grotto. "One of them? Where are the rest?"

"Some are in towns, others in other forests. I am particularly fond of mountaintops." he informed, slumping into a nest full of leaves like a beanbag, and reaching blindly for the nearest bottle. "Drink?" he offered concisely. If she did, she'd find it was fire-water, not just drawn from a river. A staunch alcohol, which he seemed to indulge in effortlessly.

"Ah, what is it?" Ember asked when she took the bottle and sniffed it.

"Burnt wine, or Brandywine." he informed gruffly. "He and I made it." he gestured to an oddly leaning tree over the 'nest'. "...mm. Not used to company here." not like her, at least. He stood from the leaves, offering it to her with a gesture and sitting on the hard tree stump opposite it. Not quite as comfortable, obviously. He was a quiet type by nature, it seems--mostly answering questions and elsewise voicing little else, though not seeming disgruntled to speak.

Ember gave it one more sniff and dicided to try it. She had never tryed something like this but she figured that it could not be too bad. "You made this yourself?"

To a tongue virgin to alcohol, it was thick, burning, with strong vapor looming in the mouth even after swallowing. "Yes. The burnt wine was my idea. Some of the others come from a brother of mine. He still sleeps off the residual headache. It's strong, but it does its job." he shifted in place on his stump, crossing his oddly jointed legs and hooves. "Any particular reason they were after you?"

"Well," She said still satring at the bottle. "They always end up calling me the 'golden kitsune' but I do not even know what that is."