I can show you incredible things

Saēna · December 26, 2014, 07:40 PM

@Kierkegaard

On her way back to Blacktail Deer Plateau, Saena detoured to a small lake at the point where the expansive Heartwood transformed into the endless plains leading out to Redhawk Caldera. It was fed by a branching river that Saena knew would lead her back to the Sunspire range. Reaching that river was a priority, but soon was placed on the backburner and her stomach rumbled and a careless beaver presented an opportunity to practice her Gamekeeping.

Catching the beaver was difficult—she managed to break its leg but it got away, only for her to find it again hours later—but soon she was hunched over it, breathing hard. There was a predatory shine in her eyes as she began to turn it over with her paws, nosing it and searching for the best place to tear into it and feast.

Kierkegaard · December 26, 2014, 07:55 PM

Kierkegaard was not a man of manners. He had not been raised to treat others with respect, or to adhere to rules of courtesy when it came to those outside of his intimate group. When he caught sight of the pale female – her strange markings having gained his attention – he had followed her some distance until she began to hunt.
Winters were difficult. The ghostly male had found the lack of prey to be troubling. His hunting skills were strong, but he did not always have the luck of happening across creatures to catch. He had been fortunate up until he had taken Signe. Not only did he hunt for the pack, but he hunted for the inky pup. Without food, she would die, and though she would have died without his aid to begin with, Kierkegaard knew he was responsible for her wellbeing.
After having trailed behind the stranger for a short duration, she happened across her beaver. She had injured it well enough that it had died some distance away from where she had attempted to catch it. Narrowing his brows, the brute lowered his head to the earth and frowned. She was young, smaller than he, and she was alone; this was easily established in the amount of time he had shadowed her. It would not be difficult to take her catch. And he had no qualms stealing from the youth. It was a difficult world, and she would learn this soon enough.
Stepping forward, the male lifted his head and leered at the young girl with sharp golden eyes. “Fine catch,” he growled in a gruff baritone. The fur along his neck and spine stood rigid.

Saēna · December 26, 2014, 08:20 PM

She had just buried her snout in the beaver's split belly when Kierkegaard's comment made her raise her head. Her indigo eyes flashed fiercely as she took him in. He was large and imposing, and the way he bristled at her was unsettling. The female crouched protectively over her prey, her bloody snout contorting into a defensive expression as she said, "thanks," in a voice lacking both warmth and gratitude.

Kierkegaard's body language was unmistakable, after all. This was the first time Saena had been challenged for her meal, having lived a pretty cozy life among the Plateau wolves. She refused to give it up so easily. He was larger than her, but Saena had the fierce heart of her mother and a good reason to hold onto her catch—Blue Willow would need the remains. She could not allow a rival male to take from her aunt's own mouth in good conscience, and so she attempted to bar his path. Her hackles rose in an effort to make her seem larger, but the real difference was too great for her thick winter coat to make up for.

The best she could hope for was to dissuade him with stubbornness, for when push came to shove, he had a clear advantage in more ways than one.

Kierkegaard · December 28, 2014, 02:30 AM

As was expected, she did not take to his words kindly. Instead, he watched as she bristled and regarded him with a monosyllabic response. Then, the pale woman took position to guard the catch. The ghostly brute did not think this a wise move. He was not opposed to fighting the youth, though he would take no pride from it. It was a matter of survival. They were both predators; it was their nature to challenge each other. In that sense, he could not find her foolish for wanting to protect what was – essentially – rightfully her catch. Kierkegaard did not have to allow it to persuade him one way or another, though. He was pressed to make his intentions clear, had he not already.
Drawing his muzzle upwards, the ashen creature regarded her with a few slow blinks before drawing his lips back and revealing yellowed canines. “I will be taking it,” he snarled at her, seething. She had moved to prevent him from going further, but the male forced another step forward and lowered his head. Kierkegaard would give her a single opportunity to relinquish her prey and move along. If she chose to stay and fight, her youth would not intimidate him. He was as uncouth as they came, and the child would make for easy combat.

Saēna · December 28, 2014, 02:26 PM

"Like hell you will," she snarled, practically plopping her stomach down on the still-bloody beaver carcass. His wolfish grin was hellish and full of malice. She thought he must be a lone wolf, having never encountered anyone from Ouroboros Spine to know their scent. He was a desperate male, she reasoned, who was being far too pushy for his own good. If only she'd chosen somewhere less isolated to hunt, perhaps Saena could've called for back-up from the Plateau. They might hear her call carry from here, since the Flatlands were, well, flat, but they would never make it in time.

Kierkegaard took menacing steps toward her, and Saena growled more fiercely, refusing to move at least for now. She snapped in his general direction, feigning a lunge only to fall swiftly back over her beaver. She stood no chance—she knew this somewhere in her subconscious—but she had to try. Blue Willow was counting on her.