Wolf RPG

Young Regipre knew she wanted nothing to do with wolves ever again, not even the kindly ones, like Swift and Luke. She was sick and tired of being treated like some sort of parasite. More than that, her trust in the species had been irreparably broken by the vicious Saena. What she really wanted to do was gather Sart and go back home to their mother and Papref. There was no way on earth she would ever be able to collect her sister, though, so Reggie had to set that idea aside and focus on getting back to the plains. It would have been an arduous journey regardless of her leg but now it would be next to impossible. And she would have to wait a while, until she was in a condition to travel.

It might be weeks before she could move much. For now, the sickly coyote sprawled near the little brook that wound through Fox's Glade, just trying to survive and slowly recover. Reggie knew the odds were stacked against her. Infection was a definite possibility. Even if her wound healed without complication, she would have to learn how to walk, run and hunt with only three legs. Her age complicated the latter part especially; she had barely been scraping by before her amputation.

But when the sun rose today, Reggie nibbled on a few plants Swift had recommended to help with the pain, then sat up for the first time in what felt like ages. Her remaining foreleg trembled slightly but she managed to shift her weight to compensate. Once she felt properly balanced, the sylphlike prairie wolf slowly stood. Although all movement caused her stump to twinge, she clenched her teeth and pushed through it. After a moment, she was standing. She wobbled slightly and had to bounce her single foreleg to adjust but luckily didn't fall.

Very gingerly, she bounced again, using her back feet to propel her forward. She took the equivalent of two steps. She swayed slightly but didn't even come close to falling. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. But for now, the pain was becoming too much. Wincing slightly, Regipre slowly sat on her haunches beside the water, simply trying to breathe through it as her golden eyes watched some minnows darting about in the shallows.

She backtracked to the Valley after the nasty encounter in the marsh, deciding that the Fates did not want her to head that way. They had sent a warning. Which way she was actually headed, though, Lakhesis had no idea — she relied purely on the whims of the Fates and the occasional blood ritual. Marks and scratches lined her forelimbs, both from blood-letting and from the sharp twigs and rocks. Her ribs continued to protrude further and further from underneath dirty, matte black fur.

Nevertheless, the witch was determined to complete what she and her sister had been sent here to do. Clotho was here in these lands. She had to be. Reincarnated. She would find her, and together they would then find Shego, and continue the Fates will.

Lakhesis stopped by a lazy stream to take a drink, only to catch onto the scent of another. Different. Tall ears perked, and her head rose to see a young cub by the river's edge only a few lengths away, her face seemingly a mixture of pain and concentration. It was then she noted the missing foreleg and, interested, the witch slunk forward, keeping her posture neutral to avoid frightening the child. It wasn't wolf, it's size and features indicating a different breed. Lakhesis sniffed again. Coyote. She inched closer, stopping and lowering herself to the ground as she peered at the small creature. "Small one," she said, meant as a greeting.

She saw a shadow out of the corner of her eye and turned to watch a small wolf slink up to the water's edge. Reggie froze, deliberating on what to do. If she had been able, she would have immediately run in the opposite direction to avoid an unwanted encounter. However, she couldn't just take off anymore. Instead, she shrank slowly to the ground, mindful of her raw and scabbing stump, keeping an eye on the stranger and willing herself to become invisible.

It didn't work. Two gleaming yellow eyes drifted in her direction. Regipre stiffened, fearing that she might be killed outright. There was nothing she could do to save herself, either. But the dark canine didn't make an aggressive move. In fact, she lowered herself to the ground (briefly reminding Reggie of Luke) and said two words: "Small one." Her voice was soft.

For a long moment, the coyote whelp made no reply. She shifted, trying not to give away her anxiety. She wanted to ask to be left alone but what if that set off the unfamiliar wolf? Instead, Reggie eventually murmured, "Don't hurt me," and then hesitated before muttering the Dothoran word for, "please."

Silence settled between them, and Lakhesis continued to stare unflinchingly as the pup adjusted herself. Her entire posture was rigid, frozen, and the witch wondered why. Was the missing limb anything to do with that? It looked fresh — healed, but recent. Her quiet words were more evidence of what happened. Something bad, it seemed. She let the coyote speak another word, a foreign one that meant nothing to her, before replying softly, "I will not."

She waited a few more moments before rising slowly, taking one step forward as lightly as she could so she didn't scare the cub further. Yellow eyes inspected her leg, head quirking to the side. How fascinating; she had never seen a three-legged...creature before. "What happened?" she asked, curiousity genuine. There was an ounce of sympathy for the youth in her gaze but, mostly, she just wanted to know how she had managed to gain such a grievous injury.

She said, "I will not," but Regipre knew better than to trust a wolf at its word. Still, there wasn't much she could do. If she did attempt to flee, she would only hurt herself. She could never outrun the other predator. Never in her life had the young coyote felt so powerless.

When the she-wolf climbed to her feet and inched closer, Reggie couldn't hide her uneasiness much longer. She feared for her life. She also resented the proximity in general, particularly because this was a wolf. Why couldn't they just leave her well enough alone? She would rather die than keep dealing with them.

"Wolves attacked me," Reggie replied tersely when questioned, "for no reason." She hadn't done anything to deserve being chased, let alone mauled like this. "My leg was damaged, so I chewed it off myself," she finished flatly.

She paused, one paw hovering mid-air as she went to take another step forward. The other girl's anxiety was palpable and she noted it, retreating a pace back again with a nod. She did not know if the young cub could run fast or far with only three limbs. Had she practiced? She looked worse for wear, faring no better than Lakhesis herself surviving alone. Unless the coyote had a family. They travelled in packs too, didn't they? The thought caused the witch to look around, alert, though she could not detect any others nearby.

Eyes flared a moment in surprise before softening at the cub's explanation, and Lakhesis fell into a sit, tail sweeping around her paws as she listened. What a feat that was, to chew through one's own limb! Interest growing, the witch tilted her head, a look of feigned sympathy crossing her features. "Wolves can be mean," she stated, aware that she herself was a wolf. At least, only physically. "They take what is not theirs, what they are not allowed." Only the Fates could decide.

She motioned to the girl's missing leg. "You are very brave."

Although the she-wolf still gave no indication of aggression, Regipre did not relax. Nor did her expression change when the stranger agreed that wolves could be mean. She didn't quite understand what she meant by the next part but didn't ask. As for her bravery, well... she hadn't had a choice, not after what Saena and her wolves had done to her. And she hadn't even removed her limb consciously; it had been a totally feral and instinctual action.

So she said nothing and a long beat of silence stretched between them. Reggie's lips eventually parted to say, "You are a wolf." It was simultaneously an observation, a condemnation and a question. She left it at that, waiting to see what the she-wolf would say in response, ignoring a sudden and painful twinge in her phantom limb.

The remainder of their conversation was brief and one-sided, with the young coyote giving tight-lipped, monosyllabic responses. Finally, the dark she-wolf appeared to grow weary of squeezing blood from a stone. She moved away, leaving a relieved and limp Regipre behind on the shore.