Hoshor Plains Be Careful making wishes in the dark

Large paws brutish and cruel headed towards the edges of the plains. He had grown up in the dark and the caves. Had thrived in the forests and the darkness. Now. Now he wanted nothing more than to forget he had ever existed. He didn't want to talk to anyone, be anything, do anything. There was a permanent hurting hole in his heart and the one that could hurt him the most had put it there.

Thoughts of his perfect snow queen curled around his mind. She haunted him in his dreams, in his waking hours. He would see flowers and grow so irrationally angry. He wanted to scrub her from his soul and rend her worthless. And he couldn't. She would be there until he died, and his death would be at her hands. He knew it. His obssession would eventually drive him mad and he would simply die.

He found himself at the edge of a new territory, but the wolves in it were not what caused him to stop. No. It was the large beasts coralled in the territory. Big and mean and ugly. He wanted to fight one. No he wanted to kill one. He wanted to rip it apart and tear it and maim it and scream his triumph to the sky.

He stared and lifted his voice in a rough, brutal howl. His voice broken since the beast had ripped apart his throat. Scarred and prideful he waited.

@Arktos @Nephele

the brutal howl that rises not too far from arktos' position along the borders, prickles at something within the warbear. his gait is quick to intercept, weaving thru the grazing bison herd, glad that they were now at ease in his presence. the horse herd was another matter entirely, but arktos largely suspected they were a bit more sentient than the bison herds.

what brings you to yellowstone's borders, stranger? asks arktos as he sizes the other man up, taking in the scars that litter the man's face and body. it does little to put arktos to ease, though there could've been many reasons for it. he, himself, had scars of various sizes. it was a mark of a man: though whether it was the mark of a violent man or not, arktos couldn't yet determine.

The man that met him held himself like a king. And there was a dark promise in the others eyes. Dreven didn't trust him for shit, but. Those beasts. He found his gaze back to the bison.

Large ugly things. Perhaps if Dreven fought them and hunted he'd forget. Maybe he'd even die. If the devil would let him. He was sitting at 0 for 2 now and still alive. But the third times the charm right.

Dreven nodded towards the Bison. Them. voice raspy, husky, broken. Whatever that beast had done to him had lasting damage.

Turned milky eye back to the man in front of him. The marks of teeth over the eye. Losing his sight had been hard, but Dreven had learned long time ago. His soul had a time limit. So did his physical body.

Dreven stared at the beasts again. I want to hunt them as long as you'd let me and forget I exist.

a small incredulous noise akin to a laugh — absent any and all mirth — passes arktos' lips. pardon? the question is low pitched, dark; less of needing it to be repeated but as a challenge to say it again. he stands, tense and bristling; a wolf version of a man with a booted foot propped against the bottom beam of a wooden fence, gaze steady and hooded by the cowboy hat on his head.

protective of the bison herds — and the horse herd though their status with the horses was still shaky at best — he takes the words entirely at their face value.

if there were words hidden beneath arktos did not glean them.

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A smirk lit up the side of Dreven's face. He knew it was too easy at first. A cant of his head.

He blinked weighing his options he really wanted to be an ass. Ask if he had fucking stuttered, because he was pretty sure he hadn't.

Dreven shifted. His body and mind screaming to push himself into a defensive position as this one had gone on the offensive. But he stayed neutral. He couldn't put his head down too far. The scars pulled, but he tried.

You hunt them right? Thats what you and yours do? You don't need another hunter? And I said exactly what I mean. I will hunt them for you. I don't want anything, don't need anything other than that. Too hunt until i forget I exist or I cease to exist one of the two.

it is, arktos believes as the man repeats himself with a bit more detail, a way of asking if he could join, but he also entirely pleased with the sole purpose of joining being to hunt the bison, either. though at it's core that was what yellowstone was: glorified hunters, he also had a strong feeling of family about the wolves that made yellowstone their home.

we cull the herd of their old 'n sick, arktos admits. he wants to add the bit about family but, as it was entirely a principle it was founded on. he assesses the man a bit longer before coming to a conclusion. there's also a herd of horses that call yellowstone home. we do not hunt them. he levels the scarred man in his moss green gaze.

pull your weight, watch yellowstone's back and we'll have yours. i am arktos. i lead beside my wife, nephele. you got a name? the warbear asks, motioning with his muzzle for the man to join him inside the borders.

Dreven had never had family, not reaĺly. So that concept was lost on him. And when he had tried to have a family, it had failed. So he was a bit bitter about it.

Dreven blinked. He didn't really know what a horse was. You'll have to point them out. I don't know what a horse is.

Dreven met the gaze of the man and then averted it. He knew how to play the game. And frankly he was too tired to be himself. And himself wasn't good anyway.

Dreven.

The brute of a man stepped over the borders. He had gotten what he wanted. Now to try and cease to exist.

I'll keep the backs of you and yours from harm.

He was not a good man. And he could truly careless about these wolves, but if he was required to fight and die for them. He could do it. He'd done it for others. It had been what got him here. However, if a day ever came where a fight was needed. They shouldn't try and protect his. He wasn't worth it.