Stavanger Bay Ahoy! lets trouble the water!

While the rest of the group were busy working towards their legs, fighting over ranks and learning new rules, Foxglove lived in a world of her own. Yeah, she had nodded in agreement and acknowledged, when the frame and content of the business she had got herself into, had been explained. And after doing this and looking in her rather intelligent expression (that understands all, but can't say a word) the leaders probably patted themselves on the shoulder for the job well-done. But in reality they had recruited a swab, who had only selfish reasons to hang around and no real intentions of working herself too hard to pay off, whatever was expected of her. 

Nope. A steady upply of food had been the deal-breaker and the protection of the group had been a nice bonus. It was a lot more comfortable to scavenge on the coasts, without constantly looking over your shoulder, in case someone else had decided to scavenge you. So - unlike others - Foxglove went around her business, not making any effort to familiarize herself with the rest or join any activities they were up to.

She had been fine on her own, until today, when she met a pesky intruder on her hunting grounds. It was big, fat and ugly-looking (a seal for those, who did not understand) and was rudely staring back at Foxglove, who had earlier tried to shoo it away overwhleming it with her psychological presence only. Now that this had failed, she bared her teeth and growled at the thing menacingly, but the creature was either dumb or did not speak any language - it let the warning pass. The dappled she-wolf bristled and sat down, attempting to cook up another plan.

Now that she had decided to stick around - really and truly a monumental feat for the generally flighty woman - it was time for phase two.  Proving herself to be the best damn pirate this side of Teekon, and hopefully in the process force Smokestep to eat some of the words he'd thrown last night.  Wishful thinking, but eh, goals were a good thing?

Rosalyn was combing the beach for some grub when she spotted a crewmate she hadn't seen yet, seemingly facing a creature of the waves.  Immediately it's size interested her, and she slowed down, approaching in as subtle a manner as she could manage.  She didn't want to scare the beast off, and she hoped the other caught her drift.  She was wondering if perhaps, between the two of them, this wasn't a prize they could take.

Unlike her crewmate, who entered the scene just at the time, when Foxglove was grinding her teeth in frustration and burning holes in the fat sausage's forehead with her eyes, the dappled wolfess had no intentions of team-work and hunting together in any way. Creatures, who were the same size as you, were off the menu and besides - there were more pressing matters here. That beast was trespassing and needed to be moved. 

She shot an angry and annoyed look in the brown she-wolf's direction, then got to her feet and charged the seal with bared teeth and a nasty screech. Her teeth met it's flank and she gave a hefty bite, only to be swept away by the blow of the other's head. There was a yelp, there was a somersault and there was a heap of dappled fur, flesh and bones, that quickly rearranged itself and sprang to her feet again. Now she was really, truly angry! That bugger!

Just as Rosalyn was making to move around, the woman shot her a look that made her stop short, and then rushed the creature alone.  What the fuck?  First off.... what was her deal? And second of, didn't she have any sort of notion about group hunting? The fact that she might not be interested in taking the thing for food hadn't even crossed Roz's mind, and she was annoyed by the premature and completely uncalculated rush.

"Hey, what...." she trailed off as the other wolf was sent spinning, and she growled.  "¡Mierda!"  Hissing the curse, she leapt in, snarling and snapping at the seal's other side.  It barked back, but she tried to keep out of reach, looking for an opening.  Foxglove might have been looking to chase it off, but she wanted to kill the damn thing.  It looked to have a good amount of taste to it.  She darted at it's side, aiming to take a chunk out, and managed a solid bite before being cuffed aside by a large clawed limb.

Foxglove's posture changed to a more confident one, when the other wolf got the notion of how to things her the right way and watched the packmate give a heft bite on the fat flank before being shoved aside by one of the clawed paws.

That was, where the dappled scrawn of the wolf kicked back in action, she attacked from the other side, not really calculating before, which body part to assault, and ending up grabbing the one that was closest to her - the tail. She gave a hefty tug.

If someone fumbling by your back-side, you definitely take notice. So did seal - it turned around quite quickly for such an awkward and obese animal, screeched (or whatever are the sounds they address others in aggressive and offensive manner) at Foxglove, who now let go.

Then to avoid being disturbed any further, it began to move towards the water.

Set aside, she didn't get the chance to strike again until the creature was already sliding towards the waves once more, about to get away.  Rosalyn's blood was up; she wanted it.  And the fact that the other didnt want to take the prey wasn't computing well, surprisingly, since in more than a few instances she had held that same philosophy towards group hunts.  Difference was, she liked this group.

She took a few jogging steps at the seal, the corner of her eye keeping watch on her companion.  If she got the hint and attacked, they might have a (slim) chance of taking the seal down.  If not, there was no way in hell Roz could do it solo.

Let's make it short - Foxglove did not get the hint.

She did not even try to get it, because she had achieved her goal - the fattie was returning to the ice cold waters, their rightful place, and she did not care to watch, how it made it's way, nor to assist the other wolf in any way. What concerned her was sniffing around the exact spot, where the seal had been lying. And after a thorough examination, she began to dig at one particular place, working her way quickly through the sand and approaching a hidden treasure that was close, but not yet visible from the underground.

Her steps forward were unaccompanied, and she faltered, turning to look back at the other wolf with confusion and a tidge of annoyance.  The seal, on the other hand, slid into the water, away from the wolves and on to smoother encounters.

"We could have had that," She said, her tone questioning.  The other wolf was already rotting around and didn't seem to be paying her much mind, but that had never stopped her before.  What was her problem?

When Foxglove felt like it, she could work very quickly, and by the time Rosalyn had returned and was accusing her for the lack of cooperation, the dappled she-wolf had dug a reasonably big hole (soft sand is handy). There at the bottom sending up a fume of rotten/mumified flesh was someone's lower part of the leg.

And judging by the claws it did not belong to an ungulate. Foxglove had no moral compass, ethical qualms or curiousity of, how that foot had come to the shores and who had used it before, she snatched it up and backpedaled herself out of the hole, holding it firmly in her jaws. 

She shot the chocolate colored she-wolf a half-victorious/half-boastful look, and pranced some distance off to have her fun with the foot.

Instead of going after the very real and likely delicious seal, this distinctly odd crewmate instead chose to dig up some sort of old bit and hold it to look boastfully back, as if Rosalyn would in a million years want something like that.  She simply watched, too taken aback to even snark further, as the other wolf departed.  Had that nasty old thing been her objective the entire time?

"I need a walk," she muttered to herself, shaking her head and setting off at a jog in the opposite direction.  She enjoyed the oddities of the crew, but times like these were a bit much even for her.

i love her so much <333! Thanks for the thread!!

Good riddance. Foxglove thought, watching, how the chocolate furred female left the scene, and then returned to her clawed foot. What was one man's treasure, was other man's trash - she chewed and gnawed diligently until bit by bit the mumified remnants of someone's limb had disappeared in her belly. With this task finished (no pesky seals would go looking for that thing, where it was now) - she dug herself a nice pit in the sand and took a nap.