Shadewood Maybe I'll find myself sitting on that distant shore

The sun was just rising when she returned to her starting point, but she was up and scouting out the woods while the stars still sung in the sky. It was habit to rise so early, when the deer were just stirring and the birds were still quiet. One could accomplish a lot without a traitorous songbird trilling out in warning; she had found something. Or some things, she amended.

"Chases Crows," she beckoned @Grawlix in a mutter, glancing up as an owl winged home to a nearby tree. "There's a bear. Come on," because it was only a small lone black bear, hunkered over a downed elk in the valley where the rivers met, and she thought they might be able to claim its kill for themselves.

"Chases Crows." He swung an ear toward her, the other ruddy-brown ear still cast forward in the direction his attention lay: far ahead between the trees, where the distant rustle of a dead leaves and the crack of a twig had been heard. Some small furry creature bounded across his line of sight. Squirrel.

"There's a bear. Come on." Grawlix turned his head and stepped abreast of his companion with a quiet hm? as he followed her gaze. The ink of black bear's pelt was a stark shadow even in the infant daylight.

The wolf tipped his nose up, scenting the wind as it drew past them. There was good meat to be had down there. He swiped his salmon tongue along his lips and fell in behind her lead as they broke the edge of the treeline.

Once she was sure that her traveling companion was following, she turned and picked her way through the trees until the hill sloped sharply down and the glittering river formed a border in the distance. There, near the bend where two halves of the river met and formed one larger body rushing toward the sea, was the bear. A juvenile male, he had his back turned to the pair of wolves and was noisily scarfing down chunks of meat.

Saliva pooled in the hollow under Always Running's tongue, and she swept it over her lips to try to quell her hunger before it complained audibly. "It's young," she noted, twisting one brown ear in Chases Crows' general direction. She left it up to him to decide if they would partake or not, but the shine of her hazel eyes betrayed what she wanted to do.

That shine in her eyes was answered with a grin as he briefly looked her way. Chases Crows was a simple wolf who lived to be exactly what he was. He found no greater joy than in employing his senses and trialing his body and teeth against all the wild. But a young bear feeding on an elk carcass represented more than a chance at recreation. For two lone wolves with hunger's jaws closed around their belly, it was a chance at survival.

His stride lengthened. His pace quickened. His gait morphed from a predatory stalk to a fluid and confident rush as he descended the slope toward the bear. The bear became aware of them then, rising on its back paws and twisting to see them coming. Immediately, its hackles raised and it started to bellow, slamming its paws on the ground and popping its jaws in a defensive threat display. Grawlix was undeterred; few animals were willing to back away from a high value resource without making some effort to retain it. This he knew. This was his nature also.

He crowded in. Tail in the air. He fixed his eyes on the bear's and dared it. Challenged it.

No words necessary; she knew the second his lips began to curl upward that he was game. Sunday flexed her paws into the soil and gave Grawlix the lead, and he was eager to take it. When he broke from cover with a confident gait, she was quick to follow, true to her name as she sprinted ahead.

Her comrade went for the bear's front as it reared up and attempted to intimidate them, and she did the opposite. As Chases Crows challenged the bear directly, Sunday attempted to loop around and grasp the elk by its opened neck. The bear sensed her and lost its focus on Grawlix just long enough to swing around, falling back to all fours, and and charge for her with a bellow. Wise as any competing predator, Always Running dropped the elk's head and darted away, cackling as she went, because now Grawlix had an opening.

He was waiting it — that opening, that chance. This was not his first dance with bears. The animal turned its attention to his companion and Chases Crows darted in low and fast, his eager fangs biting in near the bear's ankle, where the fur was not as plush and the hide not as thick. The wolf clenched his jaws and wrenched, drawing his teeth through flesh. He tasted blood. The bear hollered, whirling to swipe a broad paw at Grawlix's head. Grawlix anticipated this however, his fleet feet already propelling him out of reach.

Always Running had the opening on the bear now.

She hooted and hollered as she trotted a wide arc around the livid juvenile, lips spread wide in a wicked smile as Chases Crows swooped low for the ankle. The bruin was having none of it and whipped back around, throwing a heavy paw in Grawlix's direction, but the swift tawny wolf had already pulled away. She weighed her options then as she pranced another couple steps, glancing between the elk and the bear's hind end. But her decision was easily made.

With a surge of speed and her voice falling to silence, Always Running shot in and took a swipe with sharp teeth at the bear's thick thigh. There was too much fur and muscle there for her to do much damage without worrying it away, but that wasn't the objective. The bear was young and lacked confidence; that last move was enough to convince it to seek greener pastures. It attempted one last half-hearted swing for Sunday, bellowing, and then began to lumber off, grumbling, while the cream female snickered and rounded back on the abandoned elk.

His companion harried the bear with her laughter as much as she did with her teeth, adding insults to injuries. Chases Crows' thrill was expressed a bit different. His body laughed more than his mouth. He grinned through it all, tongue lolling, his muscles rolling beneath his healthful coat as he rollicked around the bear. He was strikingly animated by the gleeful energies that coursed through him, his eyes bright and smiling.

The bear begrudgingly gave ground. Grawlix pursued him several lengths, his triumphant tail raised high and waving. "Ours!" He called out, strutting theatrically as he turned back to the elk and to Always Running. "Nice moves," he winked at her, stepping up to the elk's tender stomach. He held his companion in the corner of his blue eye as he bent to feed, a half-grin playing along his lips as he wondered if she would challenge him — play with him. He practically dared her to with his look of impishness.

With one last chuckle, the female scuffed her hind feet on the grass in the retreating bear's direction, then drew alongside the elk with every intention of tucking in. Chases Crows caught her eye, though, and she growled low in her throat while her lips tugged into a challenging grin. Their lumbering friend had already taken the choice cuts from the elk, but there were still some good morsels left. A complete failure like him, getting first pick? Yeah, right!

"That's what they say about me," she agreed, cocky in her manner as she vaulted over the elk and aimed to shove him aside. The wave of her tail indicated her mood, but even if held rigidly, Grawlix would know her intentions from merely the strength of her push, or lack thereof. Sunday had never been a difficult wolf to read; perhaps that was why she'd been betrothed, since her parents knew her wayward spirit would never settle on its own. Some good that had done, though.

As she reached for her friend's ear with blunted teeth, her eyes snagged on the distant river and specifically the land mass it surrounded, and she gestured. "Lookit that."

He was braced for and eagerly awaiting that move. Tail wagging, he met her with a growl of his own, but there was no trace of aggression or seriousness in its rumbling tone. He was an honest wolf, readable like her, seldom inclined to hide his intentions or mood. Their bodies collided shoulder to shoulder. He swung his snout to nip at her muzzle but gave to her pressure and side stepped. Her teeth went for his ear and he lifted a paw, about to grapple her and attempt to reclaim some station at the elk, when she directed his attention elsewhere.

Chases Crows shook his coat, casting off some excess energy, and straightened out. He traced the split rivers with his gaze and then swept it across the hillscape between them. It was a curious nook. It reminded him of massive tree roots, and the hollow between them that was so comfortable to lie in.

"I like it." He declared after his moment's inspection. The wolf was possessed of a strong affinity for water; it was easy for him to appreciate what he was seeing. "I could get used to hiking a leg over some rocks and trees along those banks."

She couldn't say she shared Grawlix's exact sentiment, but men, am I right? It was all about how much they could piss on. One track minds, honestly. The island appealed to Always Running for more humble reasons: a large forest dominated it, promising a plenitude of game and shelter alike. What terrain wasn't consumed by the woods rolled away into the distance, promising adventure. From the outside it ticked all of her boxes and she wanted to explore it in its entirety.

"Yeah, yeah," she waved him away with a warm smile as she bent over the elk and helped herself to its meat. "Let's eat, then you can go acquaint yourself."

Chases Crows smiled back at her. Bright eyes shimmering as his tail whisked behind him. "If you could do it, you would too," he commented, his smile splitting into a broad toothy grin until he swept to her side and put his teeth to the carcass. There was more to his desire to mark the edge of the two rivers than the simple fact that he enjoyed the act of doing so. There was primal ambition in his blood, and a hunter's appreciation for fine hunting grounds that rode on his innate need to provide for his pack. The wolf beside him? She was his pack. They were but two, but that was enough for him. They were pack.

Bracing his forepaws on the hindquarters, he tugged and plucked eagerly at the meat and hide, working his jaws not so much out of necessity, for there was easier flesh to consume, but for the pleasure of doing so. He liked to utilize the strength in his jaws and neck, he liked to feel his teeth slice through skin and muscle, to hear bone crack under his bite. In any thing, the wolf liked to ply himself against it, to test and measure himself, to see what he could do and what he could not, to know where his paws could travel and where not. His take on the world could be summarized thus: he lived to the live the life of the wild wolf.

Grawlix casually shifted closer to Sunday, crowding into her space with marked nonchalance as he tore off a chunk of meat and gnashed it between his teeth before swallowing.

Ever the devil.

Sunday was, well, a lot less interesting than Grawlix on the inside. She lived to live, ate to live, and kept her paws moving so she could do all of that while making and following her own rules. Simple as could be. Chases Crows liked to treat every new encounter with everything as a challenge, whereas Sunday just went wherever the wind took her, caring nothing for challenges or difficulties along the way. They were opposites in that way, which is probably why they got along.

But there were some things that Chases Crows did that always just pushed her buttons, and getting up in her space was one of those things. Her lips skimmed back as Grawlix tested his boundies and mid-chews he snapped at his nose, intimidating but with no intent to cause any actual harm... yet.

He knew it was coming. He knew she did not like it when he pressed into her space — she had made that clear time and again. But alas, the wolf not only had an inclination toward testing his boundaries, he was a rascal and full of badness too. There were times he simply liked to annoy her to see her in action. More often than not, it was a combination of the two. He was compelled to carry out these rituals and was entertained by them.

Chases Crows was known to be quick on his feet. He had enviable reflexes too. He jerked his snout away from her snap with a good-natured laugh. Only her breath touched the dark leather of his nose. The wolf smirked, wagging his tail, and gave her back her space by shuffling down the carcass to where he had been before. He did not always relent so quickly, but nothing about his companion or the situation implored him to keep at it.

"I could go for another round with that bear," he commented, tearing off another piece of meat to swallow, "he gave up kind of quick." Grawlix fanned his ears to the side and hrrrm'ed a semi-disappointed note as he cast his gaze around. There was no sign of that black-furred animal. Then he shrugged, "oh well," and got back to eating.

"It was young," she said again, flickering one ear to dislodge a fly that sought to make a perch of it. "It can always find another meal, and didn't have the confidence to hold its ground." At least, that was her interpretation of it. Who could say with bears? Their dopey little eyes hid their innermost thoughts, and their typical behaviours suggested they were slow to think of anything at all. Perhaps they just weren't worth the trouble it would cause a bear to use its head for a few minutes.

"Bet there's a bear on that island you can wrestle with," she joked, digging in more fervently. Once they finished their meal, surely they would explore the island. She was in no rush. They rarely got to sup on elk like this and it was nice to share a semi-fresh meal of proper game with her companion.