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Subject: {ASSM} Canid - Hominid Wars (alternate reality, k9-pov, nosex) TBD
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Date: Sun, 15 Apr 2012 15:10:02 -0400
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This was going to be an alternate reality that explored the idea of
the canids, due to their shorter generations, having evolved a
sophisticated civilization long before humans came on the scene.
---

    The Canid-Hominid Wars
    Before the Wars - Chapter One
    Hunter's Luck
    ---


    After eating his fill, Dreams-With-His-Eyes-Open settled in some
shade to lick his wound clean. He growled softly as he remembered what
had happened earlier. He'd misjudged his lunge for the
fleet-thing-with-spikes-on-its-head and the beast had tuned sharply
away from him. One of its feet had hit his side and left a long gash
in his fur. Fortunately the gash wasn't deep and it would heal quickly
as long as he remembered to keep it clean.

    As he cleaned his wound he had time to reflect on his pack's luck.
When the beast turned it had run directly into a tangle of the
hanging-things and while struggling to free itself had broken its
neck. The pack had eaten well in spite of his unusual mistake.

    He settled his head on his forelegs and sighed. They'd been lucky
and he knew it. If the hanging-things hadn't been there they would
have gone hungry until they could find other prey.

    He rolled to his back and twisted himself back and forth. It felt
good to be able to relax and not have to worry about hunting for the
next two days. The fleet-thing would provide enough meat so they could
settle and let themselves regain strength before they followed the
herd south.

    A sudden movement in the branches above him caught his attention
and he froze. A large stick-thing was hunting one of the small flying
creatures. It lunged--and missed! The flying creature screeched and
fell backwards as it escaped. He expected it to get away but it got
caught in a weaver-thing's trap. The stick-thing started to work it's
way to the weaver's trap but froze as the weaver-thing appeared.

    He laughed to himself. 'So, there is someone else who made a
mistake while hunting. If not for the weaver-thing he would have eaten
well, too. If only the pack had someone so careless in their hunting
that it chased its dinner into our waiting jaws...'

    He couldn't stop his yip of surprise. He kept his eyes on the
weaver-trap and rolled to his feet. The weaver-thing was patient. It
let the flying creature exhaust itself before it carefully wrapped it
so it could feed without getting hurt. When the weaver-thing settled
to eat he turned his head away and looked at the hanging-things
thoughtfully. 'Could we chase one of the fleet-things into the
hanging-things and then wait until it was tired before we kill it? If
it was tired enough it wouldn't be able to hurt any of us--just like
the weaver-thing doesn't get hurt when it eats things much bigger than
it is.'

    He settled on his haunches and called his pack to him. After they
settled he started speaking to them: "The next time we hunt one of the
fleet-things, here is what I want to do..."

    His idea worked. When they met the pack that lived in the
territory next to theirs Dreams-With-His-Eyes-Open spoke the
words-of-peace and shared his discovery with their hunt-master.

    By the time four-fours of cold seasons passed the wolves of Earth
had become highly skilled tool users. It would take many-many fours of
seasons before another wolf had the vision that made them cooperative
tool makers--and the undisputed masters of their world.
~~~

    The Canid-Hominid Wars
    Before the Wars - Chapter Two
    Puppy Play
    ---

    Dreamer laughed as she watched two of her cubs play tug-of-war
with a short piece of one of the hanging-things. 
~~~

    The Canid-Hominid Wars
    Discovery, and Battle Plans.
    ---

    Picture, if you will, a civilization so old, so skilled--that
their social ethics are genetic rather than learned. We, in our
ignorance, would say they are instinctive.

    They are, but they are so by conscious choice, not evolutionary
accident.

    This race matured early in their planet's history. Evolutionary
accident and chance put them on the path that led to civilization.
Their toolmaking skills are minimal, confined mostly to simple
modifications of natural materials. They are a race of philosophers
with an unmatched understanding of themselves and their world. With
short lifespans but a willingness to take a long term view, some of
their projects have taken thousands of years to reach completion.

    Their culture was stable and perfectly integrated with their
world.

    Chance, in one of her whimsical moments, decided to replace them.

    This is the story of the their discovery of the prehominids,
hands, their battle with chance--and their final victory.

    * * *

    The scouts, far from home and their usual hunting grounds, settled
on their haunches to study what lay on the ground before them.

    "Barely a way-snack. Look. Its forepaws are deformed. No wonder it
was so easy to catch when it tried to run." Treadslightly casually
flipped the small body over with his nose and indicated the forepaws.
"The toes are too long and the nails too short."

    Silkenfur laughed at him: "Treadslightly, anything smaller than
you would be nothing more than a 'way-snack'. Your appetite is
legendary. It's no wonder you were 'asked' to join the scouts."

    The other scouts laughed when his ears flattened in apology.
Silkenfur took pity on him. "Your nose is keen my friend. If not for
that, and your speed, this creature would have escaped, just as its
companions did."

    She moved to place one of her forepaws next to one of the body's.
She was thoughtful as she studied the differences. "No good for
running, true. But quite good for helping it escape from our nets and
then climbing trees. All of them had forepaws like his. I don't think
it's a deformity."

    She sighed and looked around at her small pack. "I'm afraid we
must find other game for our dinner. This creature needs to be taken
before the council. Prepare the litter."

    Several of the wolves, especially the youngest ones, sighed. None
of them enjoyed the idea of having to spend the next several days
fending off scavengers while they made their way home.

    All of them were thoughtful as the body was carefully placed on
the litter and secured for travel. The poles of the litter were
secured to travel harnesses. Once they were ready the pack formed into
its travel grouping and they headed for home.
~~~

    Working thoughts:
    ----

There's a lot of backgound still in my head that hasn't been written
down. The descriptive names they use are a deliberate attempt on my
part to emphasize their world view. I'm still working of that but I
figure it is an extremely pragmatic one that uses simple naming
conventions with modifiers to describe an object's relationship to the
wolves.

The culture as I visualize it is actually quite old and established by
the time they 'discover' the method of driving their prey into a net.
I was going to have a bit about him wondering how often he could make
mistakes before he was replaced but I left that out because failing
during a hunt is not something that would lead to the alpha wolf being
replaced.

Another point that I haven't put down yet is that the wolves we know
today are actually the degenerate remnant of the originals. The social
structure they have now is not what it was thousands of years ago.

As I visualize things, the wolves we see lost most of their
civilization after they made the decision to allow the hominids to
'domesticate' them.

There's a lot more of course. One thing I also have tentatively
visualized is that the coyotes are descended from the 'scouts' and
'rugged indiviualists' that lived on the edges of the original
civilization. Since they were already genetically predisposed to be
exceptional survivors, the survival aspects of their 'jobs' added
pressures that let them evolve into the adapable survivors they are
today.
~~~

    Other notes:

    Wolfs and coyotes, all do the same thing - it would seem only to
be a matter of scale. That is the size of the canid, the game, and the
pack.

    What separates them, as a nature show about the Yellowstone wolf
packs plainly illustrated, is that wolves are quite content to
chow-down on their petite cousins if they so happen to oblige. 
~~~

End Canid-Hominid Wars

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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