Northstar Vale helena

This is for anyone :) please note lecter is not over the borders, he's just a few paces away from them. <3

With the recent cougar attack that had occurred within the confines of the Creek, Lecter had drawn himself from seclusion and organized his days around small forages for plants to stock his healing larder. While he chunnered to himself that this was Clarice's work, she was undoubtedly caught up by her Loa, and unable to tend the injured among the pack as he could.

And so he had stepped grudgingly into the role. Small puddles of water near his densite held sweet violet to soak; the cold tea from the roots and blooms would form a gentle pain reliever for those who had never taken a draught of poppy before.

For now, the witch had ranged past his homeland into the sunken maw of a verdant vale. It was inhabited, of course, and he paid careful heed to the marked borders, bloodstained hackles bristling.

A soft chuff of pleasure escaped him as his gaze behold that for which he had come: a dewy patch of fresh shade a few meters from the scented recesses of the Vale. Casting an appraising glance about himself, Lecter fell to plundering the sage almost joyously; it would be most beneficial to those at the Creek who needed it.

i just about glossed over this haha, u sneaky. hope u dont mind this, if its not cool just lemme know and i can change it!!

The intrusion by the Creek wolves was ebbing away in its recentness; days had passed since then, a week possibly; Raheerah was no expert at tracking time, only noting it in its current state. As it was, the day was at its peak. For a day among the early spring, Raheerah felt it was particularly hot, although that may have been attributed to the thick and dark coat the dragon sported. It was shaggy, but it was not dirty; he had received the aid of a packmate in cleaning it only the day before, and it had yet to accrue the vile stench that normally accompanied the greasy creature.

As per usual, the dragon was monitoring the edges of his home. He frequented these trails, and he could walk them with his single eye closed, or so he believed; he could maneuver the paths through scent alone, knowing where he had placed his markers in relation to others, and knowing when they needed to be renewed. Apparently, there was a particular few that were in need of revisiting, for within their vicinity he could detect another scent. A scent that, in its essence, was acrid and unwanted. It was the scent of the Creek and, almost immediately, it spurned an anger so primitive that Raheerah needn't wait for an explanation.

The ghost-like visitor had not crossed over the Vale's boundaries, but in the dragon's mind it was no reason to relent. Without warning nor hesitation he burst forward and lunged for the male, aiming to wrap his jaws around the back of his neck - hoping that he could catch the male off guard in his act of plucking herbs from the earth. If he was successful, it was his goal to toss the male aside and assault him further, but if he failed, Raheerah would spare no energy attempting to lock his jaws on some part of the Creek wolf.

hai bby no it was fine <33

Had Lecter been more involved in his plucking of the sage, perhaps he would have not seen the huge, brazen beast bearing down upon him with savage jaws stretched. As it was, only his peripheral vision saved him, initiating his painful spin away from his attacker. He was not spared; the wolf's teeth closed dangerously around his shoulder, fangs slashing in to strike bone.

Ironically, a mouthful of sage was still clutched in the old witch's jaws; he spat them out as a choked cry of agony broke from him. Lecter could not hope to engage the other in battle — he was outmatched, both in terms of age and strength — but the pale ears swept back against his skull and yellowed teeth darted toward his own shoulder; he craned with a snarl toward his attacker's face, intending to slash the muzzle, the jaw, any part of the other that would purchase him time to escape.

The beast felt satisfaction as his teeth felt bone. They sunk into the flesh of the white creature, spilling blood almost immediately, dashing across the grey hairs of his jaws. The agonized cry was music to his ears - it produced a low rumbling from his chest, indeterminately of pleasure or violent rage. He wanted to hurt this being and tear him away from his plundering. If Raheerah could get his way, he would slaughter the man and leave his severed parts along the borders of the Creek, but he had already witnessed the agility with which these wolves could flee and he doubted he would be able to catch the man, should he escape and choose a path through the trees.

Unexpectedly, the white witch retaliated, swinging his jaws towards Raheerah. The dragon snarled and felt fangs graze his cheek and muzzle on his blind side, enough to cause him to wrench away from the male, but not without attempting to take a chunk of flesh with him. Once the beast had released his hold, he maneuvered his body so that he would hold the Creek wolf in the vision of his right eye and lunged a second time at his face, intending to thoroughly punish the man for striking him on his blind side.

As soon as he was released, Lecter stumbled backwards, away from the lunging jaws of the savage male. As it was, he again did not escape unscathed; the flashing teeth of the Vale wolf cut deeply into his cheek. Instinctively, as agony flared in his face, the shaman tucked his chin against his chest, to protect his bloodstained neck, and snarled a warning.

Continuing to move backwards in a quick motion, the pale madman awaited wildly an opening to whirl, to dash away without leaving his hindquarters too long unguarded. Age and speed were not his allies, but desperation had the odd advantage of tingeing opportunities.

His attack made purchase on the white wolf, who immediately backpedaled in an attempt to escape. Though fury would have driven him to continue to pursue this man, pain seared through the right side of his face, and again he was reminded of the swiftness of the Creek wolves - he had already placed an important distance between himself and Raheerah. There would be little chance that the beast would be able to catch him should the man choose to flee now. Raising his tail high above him, he watched the white witch slowly retreat and revealed rows of fangs stained crimson with his blood. "Let iiit seerve aas a waarrrninng." The dragon hissed.

It was far from mercy. Raheerah intended to emphasize just how dangerous it could be to cross the wolves of the Vale, and that included lingering around their borders like the vexatious flies that they were. Rumbles slipped from his lips with each exhale, and he sought to hold the man's gaze for a moment before quickly lunging and snapping his teeth a second time - a final warning to leave.

thanks for the thread u hottie

“”

The great beast did not pursue; he halted, breath unfurling in a growl toward Lecter. The shaman flashed his own yellowed fangs, but he whirled as the Vale wolf lunged in a last warning, teeth clicking on empty air with the promise of injury.

Far from ashamed, the pale wolf fled his would-be killer, fervent prayers rising to Sos in thanks that he should be spared another day. Indeed, by the time that he was out of eyeshot of the other, only a brief irritation scoured his gut, and it was simply because he had failed to take any of the sage with him.

Lecter returned to the Creek at dusk, a limp gilding his step, and retired immediately to his dusty hollow, to live till another morning as granted by his god.

OOC: Totally not chasing after anyone! The commotion was heard before it was seen, calling forth the warden from her duty to heed the sounds. The familiar bray of her shadow raised her hackles in alarm, yet it was the offender’s own retaliation that quickened her pace from trot to sprint. She navigated through the pines to reach the herb-laden borders of their haven to greet the conflict, yet only just reached the end of it. Her ears lowered with the heavy words of her companion roaring to the retreating tail, and her eyes caught but a glimpse of off-white before it was gone from their field of view. Immediately, the turned to Raheerah, slipping down the subtle slopes of the terrain to reached his bristled form. However urgent her need to tend to him, she was remained by his posture that he was a beast enraged. Rather than rush to him without care, she whined softly that his ear might bend back with recognition, then slowly crept closer from behind his visible eye. “My lead…” she uttered to him respectfully, carefully, in the hopes that a word of his superiority might further ease his aggression as allow her approach without injury. Unintentional or otherwise. Her nostrils flared then quivered with the stark scent of blood that marred the air between them, yet even still she did not rush to him even though it was all she had the desire to do. “My lead…” she repeated and kept both head and muzzle respectfully low. “…will you let me tend to you?” She did not yet inquire about the incident at the border, figuring instead that the threat was now gone and he would retell the events in his own time. His ward was a patient creature.

ur welcome babe ;)

Though fury seethed through the man as a fire burning hotly in the pits of his chest, Raheerah remained anchored. There would be no use in pursuing the man, as much as he wanted to chase him down and tear him limb from limb. Doing so might open a window for others to intrude, and Raheerah was unaware of the Creek wolves were planning any kind of ambush. At the moment, he was alone and couldn't afford to leave the borders of the Vale for any period of time. With a lash of his tail, he had resolved to pace obsessively along the borders before a movement of tan caught his eye. The beast was still on edge - he snarled at the creature, only to recognize her as his light. Though the snarl remained on his features, it was of irritation towards his encounter, not towards her.

Unexpectedly, she appeared lower than he, drawing forward as though she was the one who had committed the crime. It was with instinct that he raised his tail high above his hind end, to and fro, before allowing it to fall, signifying that she had no need to hold herself so lowly. "Iiif yoou wiiish." His words carried an air of toxicity with them, a remnant of the anger he possessed. His gaze shot from her to the scattered sage in the fresh grasses, and a frown eased onto his lips. "Thhiiis muust be taaken baack to Lhaamm." The dragon huffed, and his eyes followed along the borders, where he was sure more herbs remained ripe for the picking.

If the Creek wolf had come here searching for herbs, then Raheerah's solution would be to eliminate anything that they could possibly harvest from the borders. He would bleed these lands dry if only to starve their neighbors.

The careful eyes of the warden danced over the remnants of sage. Not wholly addressing them, but noting their presence as well as the plucked stems now naked and bent. Scavenging along their borders, but away from the scented markers that they were not wholly trespassing into the mountain haven. Again, the Creek wolves have proven their boldness. But again, the Vale had proven its strength in retaliation. The wound that marred the scarred skin of her lead would serve as a badge in protecting his domain. With permission granted, she approached the warrior with care. Both ears remained pressed as her muzzle tipped upward to brush gently beneath his chin in appeasement, then purposefully let it rise to touch the wound upon his cheek. The black of her nostrils came away wet; the wound was still fresh but not fatal in its bleeding. Whining softly, she lapped the blood from his cheek and just beneath his vacant eye to a good measure of cleanliness. The sting of sage clung to his maw from the intruder’s bite, but it was quick to fall away once the scent of the Vale overpowered its aroma. Once clean, for kind measure, she nudged her nose against his cheek then placed a swift kiss upon the corner of a whiskered jowl to sooth him. The mention of the sage and his Lham drew her ears forward, then just as quickly they returned sidelong to their bed. “Of course,” there was no question in her acceptance, only the diligence to follow and bring her shadow under ease again. Smoothly she lowered her muzzle to the cluster of sage at his paws then nosed them into a pile. “Allow me.” Strong jaws fixed around the bundle with care, firm in that no leaf would fall, yet delicate so as not to bruise the flora any more than what the scuffle had done. Yet before she took a step in departure, she turned towards her lead. Her brows creased expectantly, hoping he would not loiter along the borders and follow.

Silently he allowed her to carry on with her cleaning, grooming the male's fresh wounds and easing the blood from his skin and gashes. He would allow it to bleed further until it scabbed and eventually healed, but the sensation of her tongue was soothing. It briefly reminded him of when he'd been tended to in Jokhang. It was a time before the catastrophe, before his imprisonment; it was a moment when a cleric had come to the frontlines. The cleric traveled with them in order to tend to them without bringing them back to the heart of the territory. Then, he was still blind to the injustice of his home. The cleric had a gentle touch - but she too had been worn down by war. He could still remember her face.

His attention returned to the woman as she pulled away, further craving her attention. But she swooped down and grabbed the sage instead, turning to head back into the Vale. Raheerah stared at her, as Xi'nuata gazed back at him. But he could not follow her. The herb in her jaw served as a reminder, the reason for the trespasser. The dragon uttered a guttural, gruff grunt and charged away from her, intent on uprooting every damn plant he could find.

(Exit Raheerah to continue patroling the borders)

A soft glow akin to longing crossed her eyes as the female looked to her companion with anticipation. Radiant earth and amber caught the spark of the single red eye before it turned but it did not soften as it looked upon her. Rather, it veered downward to the sage in maw and with a grumble, the lead turned to continue along the borders. A moment, but not longer, Xi’nuata watched the back of the warrior roll along the borders. His expression fierce and muzzle low as he continued his patrol. In truth, she disliked seeing him so angered, especially when she had so much hope to bring about a peace with its source. If only they could see eye to eye, then all might have been well. They might have greeted another without a scowl an uncertainty. But such was a perfect world that would never exist for the Vale. Sighing softly, she turned and headed off to find Dawa. [Exit]