Wolf RPG

Fishblight Mire was an undesirable smear at the edge of the map. It looked and smelled 'brown', and there wasn't a living creature to be seen that didn't share this undesirable palette. The murky water produced fish of a particularly high slime factor, and Vlad supposed this was just one of many reasons why the area hadn't been overfished. He was able to pluck a bottom-feeding lump from the water without too much difficulty, and settled down in the mud to chomp on his meal.

He was aware of the ratty creature that watched him from the grass. It slurped on a gob of dribble and phlegm, announcing its hunger to all that were present to hear it. There was only Vlad. When the stranger was close enough to smell, the feasting wolf looked up from his meal and barked an offer at the curtain of reeds that shrouded Rat from view. "Smelly wolf. I make deal for heff rebbit. You want heff of rebbit? Is interest to you?"

He could smell the fish, and the wolf too. It was hunger, and how it squeezed his stomach painfully, that bade him to investigate. He watched from the grass, almost aquiver at the sight of food. He ravenously hoped something would be left behind for him to scavenge, too much a coward to consider challenging the larger, stronger wolf for its meal, and a poor, weak hunter that could catch little more than rodents.

His tongue smacked as he swallowed back some drool. He moved closer, but scrambled backwards when the wolf looked up at him, and he would have fled there and then had the male not spoke to him. But the mention of a deal, of half a 'rebbit', captured his attention. He was no stranger to deals, to trades for his next meal, which he assumed was being offered. His tongue lolled from one side of his mouth as he nodded zealously, his slack jaw resulting in his teeth clacking together multiple times.

"Ya. What is deal?"

The scrappy critter crept into view. He was a dark, ugly little smear, with stringy hair and coyote-like features. Two pairs of yellow eyes met over the half-eaten 'rebbit', one Bogeyman studying the other. Vlad knew he was one of those things that fathers threatened their disobedient children with, one of those creatures in the night, and he had no doubt that Rat was of the same ilk. The worst kind of kindred spirits - but hey; everyone needs a friend.

"Ya. What is deal?" The creature nodded, his lower jaw flailing loosely. Vlad grinned widely, showing the fish bones and scales that were stuck to his teeth. "Good!" It was pronounced with Palpatine-esque emphasis on the'goo'. "You run veed Vlad for vinter, I give you rebbit." His voice was a mish-mash of Slavic stereotypes, like the bastard child of Dracula and a drunken mafioso. "Is good deal?"

His stomach, sunken and tight with his own personal famine, afforded him no chance to consider turning down the offer. "Ya!" he agreed, snaking forward, his eyes now fixed on the fish at the other wolf's paws. A large glob of spit broke free from the thread it dangled by and landed on top his bony foot. He did not move, nor say any more. He just stared at the food, waiting for it to be passed to him.

He had barely drawn breath before the rat agreed to his proposal, eyeing what was left of the fish like a madman that was closing in on his victim. Vlad gave his now cohort a squinty, suspicious look - mostly for show - before flinging the morsel at him with a triumphant "Ha!" Vlad had nothing to lose by offering this obvious lose canon a meal, and Rat had no reason not to hold up his end of the bargain. Win-win. The Russian set about cleaning his face, but felt the creature's keen stare on him within moments of averting his eyes. "You already feenish? Beeg stomach!" he roared heartily, jumping to all fours. "Now we make fight, make vinter brothers for true." A most enjoyable tradition.

He descended on the fish like a rabid beast, tearing off chunks in a great hurry, and swallowing so fast they barely touched his tongue. As was custom with his desperate eating habits, he gagged and coughed as pieces too large fought to squeeze down his skinny throat. In a matter of a minute, the fish was gone. His eyes lifted to the other wolf as his tongue flicked out to lick at the earth. It was obvious he wanted more, but it seemed his new-found partner had other ideas, leaping to all four and roaring about a... fight? The rat did not move, but the hairs along his back rose like sickly quills.

The rat stared at him, hairs rising in jagged peaks along the curve of his spine. "Maybe no fight," Vlad was quick to say, ajdusting his stance. His grin did not falter, and there was a whisper of sound as his tail began to wag against the reeds. "We braather now! I being Vlad - you kin saying? What ees being your name?"  In the absence of a response, Vlad had numerous backups - and he would soon come to think of this grey-brown little smear of a wolf as his Number Two.

His dirty fur flattened as he expelled his breath in a sigh, his stare unmoving. Rat was no fighter; he was much too weak. The best he could hope for against Vlad was to uncomfortably poke him with the sharpness of his bones as the beast descended upon him. He preferred targets that were at some disadvantage.

"Vlad." He repeated, his own tail twitching to and fro in a broken, erratic wag before he offered his own name in a sort of rambling rant. "Rat. I am a rat. I am the rat. Rat, they all yell raaaaaaat!" His voice tapered to a low, raspy hiss as his eyes narrowed for a moment. "Dirty, dirty rat."  He shook his narrow head. He did not know exactly what had transpired, what being a brother to this one meant, but he was inclined to follow him.

The Rat - that was his actual, for reals name - reached deep to answer, sputtering his title in a manner that must have been drummed into him as a child. It was wretchedly sad, but that kind of thinking was a colossal waste of time - it neither fed you, nor kept you warm. Vlad laughed instead - loudly. "OK ok, ees Rett, I hearing you! Ees good name for you!" The Russian laughed some more, shook his head, and looked beyond the Mire. Now that he had hooked a follower, it was time to move on and see what else the Wilds had to offer. "Now we finding bratstvo for making winter surviving - you understend? Peck," he clarified, and stepped into the mud, motioning for Rat to follow. "Come come! You ees good sneak, Rett? I test you."

The one-sided chatter would continue to flow well beyond the mire.

He was not offended that his newfound brother would think his insult-born name suitable; his diminutive mind was not capable of such a thing. He grinned toothily, nodding along as Vlad spoke. In some way he probably liked his name, or it had grown on him and was as much a part of him now as his ears and his tail. Not to mention the fleas in his fur and the worms in his belly. He hardly knew life without them.

"Ya! I sneak!" He said, and without hesitance follows the other wolf into the mud and beyond.