Boartusk Heights I'm lucky I'm not a vampire

Soft paws skittered across bare rock as the agouti wench finally made it to the top of the rise, panting yet still in one piece. With a ragged huff, she heaved her bedraggled form onto a flat rock of sorts and plopped down immediately, exhaustion taking its toll on her malnourished body. Almost out of natural curiosity, she found herself drawing her tongue along the scar that ran the length of her foreleg. It had long since stopped hurting, yet the wolf that had inflicted it would always remain a nightmarish memory. Her father had been a tyrant, one who saw punishment as a way to encourage the wolves lower down the hierarchy to work harder and, even though he had known the caverns were scarce in prey and herbs, he still continued to use the pit to inforce his beliefs. Danni had hated him for it and had fled the caverns the moment she got the chance to. Though the hatred was still there, she couldn't help but feel a slight fear now that she was alone.


With a growl of annoyance, she banished the thoughts away. Now was not the time to dwell in the past, not now that she had a whole new land to call her own. She raised her head, her yellow eyes gleaming with ambition as she tipped her muzzle to the sky and let out a defiant screech of victory, more aimed towards her sire than to anyone local. As the last trails of the cry faded into the winds, a slight smirk played out across her muzzle as she surveyed the view before her eager eyes.

The cry reached the brute's ears and his head lifted from his meal. Pushing the half eaten rabbit cracass away, he got to his paws and padded towards the cliffs that bordered his home. Who was this that screeched to the sky? A howl of victory? 

Tail swished back and forth as he scanned the horizon before hoisting himself into a boulder, slowly making his way up to the source of the howl. Eventually, he came upon a small dip in the heights and he peered down. There, a figure made it's way along the rocky terrain. "Who goes there?" he rumbled, calling to the wolf figure not too far away. His eyes locked on her as she moved, waiting for her reaction.

After being confined to the webbed darkness of the caverns the majority of her life, the view before the unruly wench was utterly breath-taking. Through her fiery yellow pools, her gaze danced upon the various tints and shades of green, pausing for a few heartbeats to settle upon a glistening sheet of slate blue that glinted in the evening light. In all honesty, she was sick of travelling over bare rock; her pads, although used to the rough terrain, were cut and swollen, emitting a dry heat and throbbing in dull pain. Wrenching her gaze away from the spectacle, she nosed her forepaw, her incisors nibbling gingerly at the raw skin as she drew her tongue over the redness. The pain was blinding, like a hundred needle ants pricking at her skin, causing a low snarl to well up from the woman's throat.

Soft footfalls behind her caught her attention and she twisted her cranium to glare at the stranger, pricking her ears as his words reached her drums in a deep boom. "I could ask you the same question," she retorted, her voice a seething menace from the hurt she had just endured. The anonymous canid was blurry, a seemingly shadowy figure against the pale sky. Something tugged inside her; a longing perhaps? With an inward growl she forced herself to resist the fact that she had missed the company of a fellow wolf during her days travelling alone.