Emberwood You and I are the same!
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After much confusion, have this thread, @Barracuda & possibly @Minori! Lmfao. Gonna say time of day is early morning.

He needed off that mountain. No, he just needed distance between himself and the pack. Being thrust into the presence of others who were so unlike him made it hard for the nosferatu to feel at ease―not because he had any desire to "fit in", but because he had become so used to being alone over the past few months. The last time Corvus was in a pack was with fellow mercenaries. He'd known them since he was a mere adolescent, so naturally, they were more pleasant for him to be around. With this group, he felt like he'd much rather be on his own.

Still, Corvus wasn't going to just up and leave so soon, as being in a pack had its benefits, and there were several individuals he liked just fine―he respected Grezig, and the alphas were level-headed enough, though Liri seemed to be dealing with the aftermath of some crippling life experiences. Then, there was Minori. She was strange and intriguing... certainly amusing, and he felt the same kind of equal respect towards her that he did for those back in his old pack. He just felt... off, was all.

The trees here were unlike any he'd seen before. Their bark was stark white, black scars breaking up the surfaces as if they'd all fought in a fierce battle. Each soldier was oddly small in circumference despite clearly being mature. Very interesting, Corvus mused. Even more alluring about these woods was the overwhelming scent of prey: deer, rabbits, beavers, and various rodents and birds. It appeared he'd hit the jackpot. Corvus licked his lips, pondering which he would aim for as if choosing from a menu. Beaver sounded quite nice, so he put his nose to the ground and followed one's trail deeper into the forest.
I cannot be killed by dogs. It takes a man to kill a monster.

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Oh yes, beaver was on the menu today.  He had risen alongside the sun before the heat became too oppressive to bear.  A lone wolf stood little chance against many of the mammals that the Emberwood offered — deer, moose, elk; any of the ungulates were off the menu.  But beavers were fat and compared to rabbits, they were slow.

He came to the river's edge and crouched, well hidden between the aspen and birch, the bleached tip of his tail bobbing as he adjusted himself to leap.  He missed so ungracefully that he frightened the ones in front of him away, and he began the search for more..

But not before the scent of another caught his attention who smelled a little bit like that girl who he had shared his space with in the rain.  He raised his head and adjusted his course until the stranger was in sight, and as he emerged from between the trees he chuffed in his direction.

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To his surprise, a wolf emerged from the foliage. So he wasn't the only one here. Well, these woods were teeming with food; the man likely had the same idea as him. The stranger gave a chuff to announce his presence, and it didn't appear he wanted any trouble.

He was an odd, unorthodox-looking man. The first thing Corvus noticed was his piercing yellow eyes, blinding like the sun against the dark fur around them. Staring into them too long burned his own. Then, there was the single alabaster fang against the darkness of his face and a tattered ear. His overall body shape was eerie and unnatural, legs acting as stilts that held up his thin frame while his ragged fur sagged off of him.

Corvus observed all of this with interest but did not judge. How one appeared did not matter in the slightest to the shadow―what mattered was who they were. Beaver hunting? He asked, not bothering with time-wasting formalities, as per usual. Still, his tone was light and uncaring. Corvus came to a stop a few feet away from the other man as he awaited a response.
I cannot be killed by dogs. It takes a man to kill a monster.

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The strange man holds his gaze until he can stand it no longer, which is usually how it goes.  They are almost mirror images of one another — both of them have too-long fangs, unkempt black fur.  Both of them stand upon stilted legs.  But Ysengrim is black and black and black and black from the very depths of hell and wrought as old as time, stretched thin by years spent thrusting his fists against the ceiling.
   
Apparently not, he says with amusement that is barely there, yellow eyes flicking to where some of them cowered, hidden from even his long grasp.  Are you from around here?

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"Apparently not," Came the man's lighthearted response, though his expression was unamused when his burning eyes flicked in the prey's direction. So he'd attempted and failed just before him. Well, Corvus could give it a shot, and if he failed, there were other options. He was then asked, "Are you from around here?"

Sort of. I'm with a prospecting pack. It's still not settled anywhere yet, He answered vaguely, casting his gaze beside him where the scarred mountain rested. In return, he asked, Are you? The man did not carry the scents of others on his pelt, so Corvus doubted he was a pack wolf. Still, curiosity pricked at him.
I cannot be killed by dogs. It takes a man to kill a monster.

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It is as he expected.  From here he can tell that he smells of the woman he met during the summer storm, though he is surprised to learn they have not settled.  He had initially thought the emberwood to be hunting grounds.  Their scents linger here in the forest, but it is not where they choose to make their home. 

No, he replies simply with a sweep of his gaze, before he returns it to the man.  Would you care to accompany me on a hunt?


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The man's answer was curt, but to Corvus it was all he needed. Then, a question in turn: "Would you care to accompany me on a hunt?"

I would, He answered before deciding an introduction was in order. I am Corvus. The raven gave a dip of his head before stepping in the other man's direction. After an assumed returned introduction, he would ask, Still in the mood for beaver?
I cannot be killed by dogs. It takes a man to kill a monster.

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Barracuda, he supplies after Corvus introduces himself.

If we can find beaver, then I am in the mood for beaver.  If we can find rabbit, I am in the mood for rabbit. He accentuates this with a quirk of his brow, a very do you catch my drift tone to his voice.

He sets his nose to the ground for a moment before he points with a front paw in the beaver's direction.

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"Barracuda", the stranger gave as his name. Corvus had vaguely heard about the vicious fish but never thought he'd live the day where he met someone with such a name. Was it an alias like his own? That was a question for another time―if there would even be a next time with this stranger. Despite his burning curiosity for many things, Corvus was not nosy.

Barracuda's answer to his question made him chuckle. Fair enough, He replied. Desperate for something filling, he wanted to give beavers a go. Lowering his snout to continue along the scent trail brought him to a marshy area with soft soil that squelched a bit between his toes. Up ahead was a stream that lead deeper into what looked like wetlands. That'd explain the beavers―or perhaps it was the beavers that explained the wetlands. He noted that the trees around here had clearly been gnawed on, and some had already been felled. Corvus lowered into a crouch, slinking into a patch of tall grass nearby and silently lying himself down.

Once Barracuda was presumably close enough to hear him at a murmur, he explained, My plan is to lie in wait for them to return to these feeding grounds. Once a beaver approaches, one of us will circle around to cut off the route to its dam while the other goes in for the kill. I can do the latter, unless you object. Corvus then awaited Barracuda's input on the plan, blood orange eyes meeting acid yellow.
I cannot be killed by dogs. It takes a man to kill a monster.

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