((For the sake of this log, I'm using his old Captain cert, as that is what he would have been at the time.))

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He supposed that he should be used to the weather around here. Lots of snow, making things cold and wet, and then more snow on top of all of that, with ice mixed in somewhere in there. Truly the pinnacle of living, this place.

Haddock grimaced as his feet sunk into said snow, nose twitching unhappily as he raised a foot back up to reveal the mud that had been hidden underneath. Ugh, that was going to be a pain to clean later. Maybe he'd just leave it. His fur was mud colored anyway. The hare sighed and continued with his walk, hoping to gain some more ground. He could almost pretend that he was out here on a leisurely stroll, if it weren't for the fact that he was actually returning to the site of, well...

He lowered himself down as he got closer to the top of the cliffside. He'd spotted the scuffle earlier today from way down the valley, and curiosity had gotten the better of him. Judging by the roars and yowls, he guessed that it was a fight between felines, and maybe, if he was lucky, he could harvest some hide or claws to craft with. So far, all he could see was broken branches and disturbed snow, but he couldn't have been too far.

It would figure though, he thought grumpily. He had such terrible luck.

Haddock had been tiptoeing his way around a large boulder, looking completely the wrong way, when the anguished roar went off beside him. Literally right beside him. Could he be faulted for the way he reacted to that?

Yeah, probably, because he bolted to the opposite side and smacked head first into a tree... whose trunk was lurching precariously already and began to topple to forward from the hit. He watched the chain reaction half in terror and half in shock -- the trunk slammed into the ground, narrowly avoiding crushing the lion in front of Haddock (though the screech he let out as it landed made him think that it hadcrushed him, oops) and then the next thing he knew, the snow around them was flowing downwards... right off the cliff.

Haddock yelled and latched onto what remained of the trunk, scrambling to pull himself up and out of the mini avalanche he'd caused. There was no helping the lion though; he was already being pulled down with the rest of it, and all the hare could do was watch with horrified fascination as the world in front of him dropped, crashed to the ground below, and then fell silent.

That... hadn't gone as planned, he thought with a groan. This was why he'd been thrown out of his old home; his burrow couldn't stand how accident prone he was.

Sliding off the trunk and hopping carefully closer, he peered over the edge to see the damage. The broken tree was still rolling away, chunks of snow making it lopsidedly roll, but what caught his attention more was the black form half buried at the base of the cliff. Nose twitching nervously, he braced himself before taking a leap off the cliff. It wasn't too high of a drop, and he was used to landing in snow. (it was surprisingly plush to land in) With an "oomph" as he landed, he pulled himself back out of the white hole he'd made, and walked closer.

It was a lion, he was fairly certain of that now, and he wasn't moving. Dead, probably? There was a lot of blood around them. His ears pulled back as he slowly leaned forward to sniff at the body. Well.. his pelt would make for good material, and he wasn't one to waste things.

"Alright, lion, you're going to make for a nice big pelt. As soon as I figure out a way to pull your fur off." A quick glance around him showed... not much, but he did spot a particularly sharp looking rock. It'd have to do for now. He snatched it up into his paws and turned back to his quarry. A little too confident now, Haddock hopped up onto the lion's side to start brushing off snow, and made the mistake of pulling on an ear to get a better look.

The next thing he knew, he was being thrown through the air and pinned to the ground, making him gasp and stare with wide green eyes.. right back into bright, furious ones. Teeth flashed above him and he cringed backwards (as much as he could in snow), the pit of his stomach lurching as he came to a sickening realization.

He was going to die.




For his part, Nott'Modr was having a bad day, and he wished that he could say he was surprised by the events that had happened earlier. His band had been particularly rowdy, and looking back, he'd seen the signs, he should have known that they were unhappy with how he was doing things, with how gruff and standoffish he was, with how much he pushed for them to continue despite their starvation and exhaustion. He had never bothered to make friends with any of them, was more of a strict leader than anything else, and perhaps if he had, he would have seen the treachery underfoot.

It was too late now though. In a moment of fury and frustration, they had ambushed him, overpowering him by numbers alone, and left him to die from his wounds and the cold. His leg felt all wrong, his mouth and gums bleeding profusely still, and his sides stung something fierce. His attempts at getting to his feet were proving useless, and he yowled at the pain.

His last attempt though... that had changed everything.

The foreign voice was unexpected, as was the tree that he had a split second to realize had crushed his tail upon falling, and the world was a blur as he tumbled down the side of the cliff.

After the world had settled and the ringing in his ears began to subside, he started to acknowledge that he would die here. This truly was the end for him. His eyes closed resignedly, ready to slip into death, and he ignored the footsteps crunching in the snow around him. What did it matter, anyway?

.... The stupid creature's words brought him back to life though. Who would dare? He was of the storm, and would not be debased like that.

Eyes snapping open, Nott'Modr swatted the tiny thing off of him and, using just one paw (it was the only one that didn't hurt), he slammed the hare into the ground and bared bloodied teeth at it. He should tear this insignificant little thing to shreds for daring to come at him with a weapon, rip his ears off and make him bleed.

But he paused instead, staring down into equally green eyes, eyes that showed the creature's acknowledgement of death, and he realized... was he not just believing himself dead as well? What was the point?

Eyes narrowing, he sneered down at the hare before leaning up and letting out an almighty roar. It echoed around them, showed his anger and fury all at once. Then he flipped the hare around and launched him away, tumbling through the snow until he landed in a heap a good few feet away.

Nott let out a snort, the blood clogging his nose spitting out across the snow, and then he turned himself around to flop with his back to the hare. He was done with this one.




Haddock wasn't sure if it was shock or dizziness from being thrown like that or maybe he was just going to die from terror -- all he did know was that he was alive and there were spots along the edges of his vision, and was the world always so twisty and nauseating?

A quick look back at the lion showed that he had no interest in him as a snack or otherwise, so, stumbling shakily to his feet, the hare took a deep breath before trying to walk away, managing a few steps... and then the world went black as he passed out.