Cerulean Cape thunderclap

Overnight a fierce and blustery winter wind had whipped the seas into an angry swell that savagely snapped and gnawed at the shoreline and drowned any gull stupid enough to try to hang five on the bitchin' curls, dude. Raptor sheltered in the crook of the bay, slavering at the thought of what the dawn might bring when the storm broke. He emerged as soon as the roar of the winds died to a pussy cat hiss, and started to prowl the coast in search of all the edible things the ocean was bound to have belched onto the sands.

He snatched up a few dead crabs before he latched on to the tattered wing of an idiot surfer bird and dragged it down the beach. He did so with a haste that was almost panicky — he did not want any of the sea's spoils to be snatched before his gluttonous hide got to them and his eyes worked overtime trying to scan every inch of the cape. Raptor rounded a point on the shore, and gasped — dropping the dude — as he spied the main course. There, all plump and bloated and salty and oozing and just astoundingly beautiful, was the shark-bitten corpse of a fat ass seal.

"THE STORM PROVIDES!" He bellowed as he flung the feathered imbecile into the beachgrass and slithered to the stinking carrion, whistling a high piercing note for his crewmates in case they were in ear shot.

JUST FOR YOU @Lycaon and tagging @Smokestep @Sandpiper for reference and @Wylla because LOOK WHAT HELLAWES CAUSED ME TO DO.

*cackles*

after weeks of avoidance, lycaon still had not sought his brother out to make amends. on the contrary, he elected to go on furlough for a few days to decompress, and struck up the coastline without a clear itinerary in mind. 

he’d noted the dark blue clouds trundling in the distance the day prior, but couldn’t discern which direction the storm was heading and committed to his path due southwest until the tempest was astir overhead. lashes of violet-mantled whips scourged the blackened horizon, pelting the earth with stinging rain and graupel. the intense updraft made for unnavigable conditions so Lycaon had taken shelter under a jutting spar of rock, a chill settling in his bones, and intended on waiting out the downpour overnight.

dawn broke and the Grimnismal wolf was roused from a fitful slumber by a bellow in the distance — distinct from the repetitive applaud of thunder the night before. he stepped into the sun, shaking his coat out and wringing out each foot with a fleck of his ankles.

another wolf, not much younger than himself it seemed, romped in the bent grass, lobbing some mangled seabird through the air and rallying cries for prying ears. Lycaon maintained a courteous radius. no telling how unpredictable this fella was, and the pale eyjolfur wanted a jump on vamoosing if he too was amongst the storm's provisions. ”yoo-hoooooo.” he sung out, squinting at the stranger and his equally strange behavior.

Raptor did not wait to see if Smoke or Sandpiper would show up before he started scoffin' down a few pungent bites of the seal. There was plenty here for him to lug some back to the galley or for them to show up later. In the meantime he would enjoy a taste or two or three — he thought of it as the finder's perk. But he had barely swallowed the second mouthful when a paler wolf showed up with a sing song announcement of his arrival. Raptor looked his way with an uninviting scowl.

He might have welcomed the company for a chance to have a bit of fun but he was a greedy, gluttonous pirate and he did not want to share the porky mammal with anyone but his own crew. It was one of the few things he would risk a bit of fur and blood over. But only just a bit.

Raptor took a moment to appraise the interloper. The male was a young wolf like him but meatier. He looked tough enough but did not sound particularly menacing with that yoo-hoo of his and he gave Raptor a berth that roused his cockiness to the forefront.

"Whadda ye want?" He called out as he stood up from his hunch over the seal, using his tongue to root out a chip of bone from between his teeth so that he could spit it onto the ground. Raptor reckoned it was a stupid question but he was still assessing his odds at this point.

on a dime, the peculiarly marked ruffian turned to face his pallid nuisance. good god. as the man rose from a possessive huddle over his bloated folly, the Grimnismal wolf beheld what he could only surmise was a raccoon who’d helped itself to some of Wonderland’s “eat me!” hardtack. and according to his shifty mannerisms, had the personality of one too--you know, selling you on pyramid schemes and comfortable leggings.

starting to think he’d wondered into the land of colossal procyonidae, Ly visibly recoiled as coonzilla hawked a bone shard into the sand.

straightening up, the beta began tracing circles in the sand with his toe-tip, an innocent purse of his lips and flutter of lids to play up his guile. ”a kiss to break a terrible spell?” he crooned with girlish whist, eyes pleadingly coy.

Lol coonzilla

Raptor, truthfully, did not know what to make of the wolf before him. His first instinct (read: his incredible distrust) was to suspect the male of fabricating a ruse and trying to beguile him into letting his guard down. But Raptor fancied himself shrewd. He believed he was sharp enough to play the game and retain ownership of the bloated seal, and he also believed that his wind-and-wave piercing whistle had found it's way to Smoke and or Sandpiper, and that they would be around for backup eventually.

So he swaggered forward with a high head and a cocky smirk. "Aye, I might be able to t'help a lad out." He let his long tongue loll from his slackened jaw. It was of such a length that he could have swung it over the bridge of his snout and licked the opposite canine with it. Or cleansed his eyeball like a gecko. It was a peculiar deformity that he knew unsettled those of kinder upbringings. He was not sure if that description fit the pale wolf, but it was an effortless enough gamble to take.

If the long tongue was not enough, Raptor paired it with a few theatrical kissing noises lobbed from puckered lips as he advanced. Surely, one or both displays would strike a nerve.

the prettiest of all zillas

watching as Raptor unfurled his fruit roll-up tongue--a tongue that looked as though it was crafted by the gods for the sole purpose of kissing frogs--the boy gurned on a glob of bile bubbling in his throat. still, he held his position as the swashbuckling corsair stalked forward with pucker-up-buttercup come hitherings. his eyes glistering with mischief, lyc summoned: "then bring those sweet lips over here."

his hindleg shifted subltly. he surmised if he could draw the giant trashpanda farther away from his precious bounty, he had a chance of swooping in and spiriting off with a ration of the tumefied seal for himself.

His efforts did not have the intended effect. The pale wolf made a face but stood resolute, determined to have his terrible spell broken it would seem, even if it meant settling for a scruffy pirate instead of a white knight. Had Raptor not been a thief himself he would not have suspected the ruse, but this was exactly the sort of shenanigans he himself would employ to guile and distract so that he could pinch some coveted thing. He dropped his charade at once and backed to the seal.

"Hah!" He exclaimed. "Gotta be slicker than that to get past me there, bucko." Raptor bared his teeth in a crooked grin, and there challenged the wolf to try some other move.

despite this buccaneer wisening up to Lycaon’s intentions to bootleg his good fortune, the cheeky son-of-a-witch continued anyway, his expression animated with incredulity when Raptor called him out on his shenanigans. ”what, ‘the storm’ can’t provide a lil smack on the lips? what a prude.” 

the other returned to his plunder in a manner not unlike that of golem, pro-active in securing it against the looming threat of rapine. lycaon shifted in place. truth be told he really didn’t want a closer look at chapalmalania altaefrontis or get mixed up with the monster of a tongue caged in that snaggletoothed hoosegow. stare into the void and it might stare back––or just throttle you with its giraffe-esque prehensility.

Raptor considered that this wolf and him could have been buds. It was a brief consideration because the sable corsair was not about making friends with those outside his crew unless he was trying to recruit them. He was mostly adept at burying any lick of desire to that dared to crop up, but that did not stop him from having a bit of fun. He always preferred an exchange of wit rather than a clash of fangs because he liked to keep his fur.

"Naw, but I got a puckered asshole you could try," Raptor shot back, grinning impishly. He was not convinced that the pale wolf would not attack him but for now he was with the seal and feeling decently comfortable in his position. Here he would stay, since his initial efforts to run the wolf off had failed.

like Raptor, Lycaon was not in the business of friendship building or associating with members outside his faction. hell, even inside his faction he was choosy with who he brushed elbows with. however, individuals he felt were worth his banter were scarce as hen’s teeth and this guy had gnarly incisors of his own. so there was potential there, and Lycaon wasn’t getting his ass nibbled yet so that was progress for the social pariah. 

”well you keep teasing me so I don’t know if I trust you’ll even let me.” he huffed loudly, casting his head like he had a thick, luxurious mane to dismissively toss. ”anyway. I prefer them unpuckered, myself. I feel that puckered really hinders the flavor profile of the asshole.” he added with an elite air to his tone. and if he had a cup of tea, he would have sipped it delicately.

"Ye don't say..." Raptor drawled.

By now, he was really making an effort to keep a reasonably straight face. There were two factors at play. First off, the corsair really wanted to buy this guy a beer (if that was a thing wolves did — and it was let's face it, he'd ordered them a round of rum if that were the case anyway). Second off, he was slowly becoming squeamish by the idea of two guys and a rimjob, at least when he was one of the guys featuring in the scenario. If this feller and some other male wanted to cuddle up to each other's rear end in private that would have been a-ok.

Raptor being Raptor, he was not about to concede defeat so easily. He'd swallow his repugnance and charge ahead, foolhardy and certain that the other wolf would bawl surrender before he did. Clearing his throat, the pirate plunked his arse down — if nothing else it made him feel more comfortable and secure to have the ol' starfish safely tucked beneath him.

"Before we gets in too deep, I think we should be gettin' to know each other better. So tell me... what tastes best on the way out? What do ye prefer yer lovers munch on before you go in for a taste?"

:x

in sooth, and probably to the other male's utter unsurprise, Lycaon didn't REALLY want to touch or be touched by this grungy weirdo anymore than Raptor probably wanted to toss the salad of his pale compeer. not with a bargepole twenty-feet in length. nonetheless, neither of them were volunteering to renege on the proposition. it was a bonafide battle of wills orchestrated by typical boys.   

Lycaon felt his butt instinctively clench, his tail colled to the mother of all no-no squares just as Raptor had elected to plant his on god's sandy acre. his ears clipped forward to catch the dude's drawling commentary, posing questions that were reminescent of his first interaction with Wylla.  the recollection of discussing carnal knowledge of bears punched right through the mental wall he had erected to prevent it from ever coming up in his memory again. gurning on some bile rising in his throat, and emoting a cringe, he perished the thought.

still managing to maintain some measure of chill he gave the most casual shrug his shoulders could muster--as tense as he was holding himself. keeping in mind, Lycaon had never held sexual congress in his life, with anyone. he didn't know the first thing about foreplay. 

"well, don't get ahead of me now." he cleared his throat, stiffly circling thoughtfully with his tail jammed firmly between his legs. his internal forage for answers was a struggle manifested in the vacuous expression on his face. feck. "so, anal glands. gotta make sure those are expressed so it doesn't drool on your chin. that's the first thing. hygiene and sexual health is very important." he drawled on, honestly doing everything in his power to stall overtures. "also, i prefer if my lovers partake of some pineapple beforehand. really gives the twat some twang. you feel? do you have pineapple by any chance? it's kind of my deal breaker."

please don't have any pineapples.

GOD.

Raptor listened. He even bobbed his snout. Slowly, as is carefully considering and cataloging the wisdom that was being imparted on to him. Then he licked his lips, briefly cast his eyes to the shoreline around them, and then parted his mouth as if to speak. But as he looked on the pale wolf, no words came. Raptor shut his mouth and blinked, his lips pinched and cheeks puffed with air as he realized he neither wanted to go further nor could go further. Raptor exhaled slowly, his breath taking its time as it flapped past his still-pinched lips.

The pirate shifted down the seal as one might slide down a bench in order to make room for another. "Come eat some damn seal," he said, conceding defeat as he himself bent down and started to chew on some fat. "But don't ye dare tell anyone I shared with ye..." he warned through his mouthful.

as if balanced very precariously on the edge of his seat, Lycaon watched the quandry in Raptor's integrity crank like an old windlass lifting a bridge that hadn't been winched in centuries--and was more than happy to stroll right across that bridge and high-five the troll under it as soon as his giant raccoon chum folded under his clearly superior capacity for conjuring gross imagery. 

he bounded over with his tail lofted, both amiabily and with windsailed self-satisfaction. "only because you insist!" he said, a grin flapping against his cheeks. but don't ye dare tell anyone I shared with ye... Lycaon slowed til there was a temporary pause in his gait, stunned with a gasp that Raptor might even suggest he would dare break confidentality between them.

"who, me? your good old pal, Ly? i wouldn't speak a word." he said in solemn oath, carefully orbiting the rotting corpse of the seal with his eyes drawn to Raptor... just in case he tried any shenanigans while Lycaon was too distracted to chaperon the prestige of his fanny.

"whoever you called earlier kinda snubbed ya hardcore, huh. that sucks." he said, levying a paw against the seal's blubber as he tugged at it's rubbery skin. it separated from bone much easier than he thought it would, and Lycaon careened backwards, slapping himself upside the face with the strip of meat fixed between his teeth.

"Good," Raptor replied simply, arching a brow as the paler wolf searched for a spot to settle into. When he did, it was with a comment about the wolves Raptor had hailed and received no response from. "Aye, lucky for you," Raptor smirked, breaking into chortling and snorting as the male was taken in the face with a strip of flesh. Ly apparently had the same sort of tactful eating and finesse that Raptor possessed. "Lucky for you or ye'd be gettin' no grub." At least, the corsair was sure his fellows would not be so kind as he, and even more sure that they'd have his tail or at least mock him for allowing this stranger to have a bite. So it was with a watchful eye that he ate, planning to flip the aggression switch if he so much as caught a whiff of his crew. But his crew never came, and he and Ly shared the seal in peace, until he took his leave with a flipper and a hunk of meat in tow for the galley.