@Scimitar Can we do another for JFG do you think? Set before drama-llama thread.
They had not spent any time one-on-one since the fight that had almost turned bloody, and several days later, Bazi was desperate to vent some of the tension. They interacted via the children or not at all, and whilst emotions were still raw and unruly, Bazi did not trust herself to engage in conversation. So she sought out the only other proxy she could think of: prey.
A small herd of deer were in the process of crossing the Downs - no more than ten individuals, weary and watchful. They reminded Bazi a little of the Grove pack, whose child population almost outnumbered the adults. They were up against it; a likely contributor to the recent tension between the leaders.
Bazi crouched low among the grass. She had sent word for Scimitar via child courier, asking Allure to fetch her father and direct him to the Downs.
I think so!
Allure gave him Bazi’s message, and Scimitar managed to refrain from the storm that darkened his features until his little girl was nudged off to find her brothers. Of course, the ice queen was not one to seek him out herself.. she had to use their child as a messenger to send him.
Even after he found her, keeping watch on a herd of deer, he felt no better about the situation. He spoke nothing, his eyes grazing past her as if not seeing her, and instead, focusing upon the herd nearby. Clearly they were going to hunt – something they should be teaching their children, but neither parent seemed to have the energy to truly deal with one another to do so. Quietly, he waited, his muscles rigid, for Bazi to scour ahead – and he would take the opposite end to close in on the sickest of the young they could find.
If stubbornness was a trait to base a relationship on, Bazi and Scimitar were well matched. She did not acknowledge his arrival, forcing herself to maintain eyes on the herd - even though, at this point, her anger had dwindled enough to consider exchanging formalities. But she wasn't going to be the one to break first - oh no.
She did not need to communicate her reasons for summoning him. The pack was hungry, and this was too good an opportunity to pass up. Silent as a ghost, Bazi surged forward, rounding the herd to the left. The group was blocked to the east by a crescent of forest, and there was no straight line of escape that was not guarded by a wolf.
Fortunately, for the task at hand, they did not need to speak. Having hunted together now for well over a year, the couple were at least attuned to one anothers' movements for such an event.
Bazi’s lunge indicated she was going left, and with the almost ring of trees barricading a clean escape, Scimitar lunged closer to the right, his paws thrumming the ground as he made to compliment her plan. He was not as agile as she was, but it mattered little in this instance. The herd began fanning out, panic written in their eyes.
His eyes scanned the crowd of tawny fur, seeking out the one Bazi was aiming for. She had been watching them from afar before he had arrived, and her point of attack was likely already chosen.
The element of surprise was gone - the herd began to move, circling away from the bright white blur coming up from the west. Scimitar moved into position, readying himself for the moment when the spooked animals broke into a hard run in his direction. Bazi would bring up the rear, herding stragglers and keeping the panic levels high.
The weaker animals made themselves known immediately. Two lagged behind - one older, one subtly injured - struggling at the back of the group. Bazi picked up her pace, snapping at the maimed animal's flank, narrowly avoiding a kick to the head. She had made her choice; younger meat was preferred.
The dance they partook in now was old to them -- something they had done to a point he could estimate her movements, and she likely his. But the strain between them rose the tension in the air, and Scimitar could have swore even the herd reacted to it.
Bazi chose their target, and bolting forward, the male managed to just tuck his frame closer to the ground as a hoof was aimed at him. It grazed his fur -- even leaving a partial bruise to his hind, but he had been lucky. Eager to put an end to this hunt as quickly as possible to feed their pack and leave Bazi's presence, Scimitar allowed a snarl to erupt from him, his jaws seeking to shoot up and clamp at the shoulder of the beast and tug. But it was young, feisty and desperate, and his teeth merely grazed its skin.
This was not going to be a successful hunt. Bazi knew it as soon as Scimitar missed his shot. Under normal circumstances, such a small setback would not have deterred either wolf from pursuing their quarry - but Bazi's patience for the hunt was in short supply, and her desire to spend time in her mate's company was reaching for negative numbers.
Nevertheless, the pack had to eat. Disappointed and demoralized, Bazi forced herself to pick up the pace, shooting past Scimitar and after their chosen target. But after such a close encounter with a wolf, it had morphed into an adrenaline-charged super-beast; whatever injuries it had sustained seemed to have been 'put on hold' whilst it attended to the business of staying alive.
His miss placed them back a great pace – and while the cinnamon wolf would have been content to let it go and stray away from his mate’s side to hunt something smaller, the ivory she-wolf continued, her paws thrumming the ground in what could either be described as perseverance or stubbornness.
He raced after her, widening his arc to not just strategically attempt to gain ground on the prey, but to also keep away from Bazi’s side, desiring nothing more than to place some distance between the two. Pushing himself to move faster, the male wanted nothing more than to end this so they could both go on the rest of the day away from one another.
No dice. Bazi could only sprint so far, and when it became obvious that the hunt would drag on, she shifted down through canter, trot, and walk, finally becoming stationary after a hundred meters of slow deceleration. Their prey sprinted on, disappearing south. Bazi turned to look at her mate, distant from her now - far enough away that she could not see his expression. The pale queen snorted loudly through her nose, maintained her stare for a moment longer, then broke away - the very sight of him made her blood boil, and she did not even want to consider the why. Did it even matter? No amount of logic was going to cut through her disdain for her lover, even if it was both stupid and source-less.
Without a word, Bazi turned tail and headed east - away from the pack. Perhaps she would find a stranger and pretend to be Wilder again.
Last post from me!
Their efforts were fruitless – after the bungle, there was no saving the potential within the hunt. Bazi seemed to accept this, and without word, she slowed her pace, and stalked off toward the east. He made no move to follow her – he did not even have to swallow an ounce of guilt for choosing not to do so.
Instead, the wolf trailed northward, seeking out the company of either his sister or his children so he could try to forget about the slow crash and burn of his mateship with Bazi. As far as he was concerned, they were basically over. It was just that neither had voiced it just yet.