Wolf RPG

grey was the endless expanse of sea before him, that rolled and turned like the writhing stomach of some upended serpent. the rippling breakwater cascaded past him, their frothy tips disintegrating in swirls around his thick limbs. he found himself standing in the whorling brine, relishing the cold as it lapped around his aching tendons. the descent down from the heightened slab had not been without difficulty and tachyon was exhausted from his travels.

eventually he would have to consider moving, for the tide was quick to well along the cliff -- and if he dallied too long, he would find out exactly why no soul dared to inhabit the narrow strand that straddled between the thundering gulf and the cliff.

In the afternoon thin blades of cloud passed over the mountains, a spectacle fit for the clement weather. The sea shrugged her waves as though rolling some burden off her shoulders, its immeasurable swathe wrought with turbulent swells chased by the wind onto the shore, pounding against the sand and then returning to its sum to repeat ad nauseum. 

It frightened her. Lusca did not like its impetuous behavior as it thrashed and threatened to suck in the stouthearted that mustered the bravery to enter its palms – she had her misgivings, her want of confidence as she felt its intensity from the treeline. Courage with a poor prognosis, and the sea's tumult was something she cared not to inquest on.

An intrepid wolf of monochrome appeared from down the coast,  startling the girl into hunkering in the overgrown grass. Orangered eyes peered through, squinting in his direction as he swung so carelessly abreast cthulu's bungalow with waves breaking over his ankles. Popping her head up, she nearly yelped out an advisory missive along the lines of hey! life is meaningless and death is inevitable but you're presenting yourself on a silver platter you dingus! but hesitated. 

Instead, she sucked her teeth and shifted her weight on her toes with uneasy feelings efflorescing in her gut, a high-pitched whine eeking from her throat.

between the frothing hiss of the brine tachyon thought he heard something -- something distinctly canine. he tilted his broad muzzle to the side, a windswept ear pulled back -- but the sound was no longer. his stomach and heart froze with chill as he entertained the impossible -- was it a predator of the pelagic persuasion? was something in that pale and coalescing water about to crest and pull him under?

he wasted no time beating a hasty retreat to the shore -- and even as he pulled well from the breaking tide he continued his relentless gallop until his weary paws met the solid ground of the tree-line. it was then he noticed he had company -- company which had presumably just seen a grown ass male nearly wet his pants and run for safety. he slowed to a trot, trying his best to regain some semblance of dignity -- yet whatever poise he possessed had likely washed away in the abundant blue behind him. hopefully she hadn't just witnessed his pitiful display of how not to be a macho-mano.

he cleared his throat, giving the lithe creature a once-over. he was not really discreet in his examination of her sundried pelt, but truth be told, tachyon hadn't seen a female in weeks. yet it was the illuminant auburn of her kiln-like gaze that drew him, and he decided to stake his chances with the skewbald female. "hi." awkward...............

The moment she was parted with a snippet of her voice, the nervous female gasped and hauled down again, sinking deeply into the ground and tilting her pinnae –– invoking whatever godhead that existed to deal with chickenshits such as herself and praying she wouldn't be forsaken by a pair of ragtorn triangles peeking out of the winterized tallgrass.

Suddenly, the stranger was unseated like a booster coil by a barrage of what seemed to be common sense recalled to life. It was all she could do not to steal a look-see as he gunned it across the breadth of the waterfront, quick as a hiccup and tense on the verge of wild abandon, seemingly spooked by the vision of imminent quietus. Squeezing her eyes shut, Lu invested all her hope in the notion that if she couldn't see him, Tachyon would not be able to see her as he cheesed it into the adjacent brake.

Prying open one eyelid, she watched with unremitting dismay as he instead carved a path in her direction. The male appeared to recollect himself once offshore, slowing up in a bid to salvage a relationship with his self-respect, or something resembling it anyway.

Lusca heard the rustle of his advance and her eyes popped open, lantern gaze beholding a pair of wet sand-encrusted phalanges. She scrambled to her feet in time to catch his blundering ahem, self-consciousness seizing her by the throat as he blatantly assessed her genetic constitutions. Really guy? Reflexively, she drew a foreleg to her chest and crinkled her brow, a displeased snort expelled from her nostrils with annoyance from having been so impolitely scrutinized. 

She took subtle stock of his silver-plate fur, its brilliance briefly stirring bitter sentiments of envy. Her own pelt, a muddied palette of coal and roasted coffee, often left her with dysmorphic feelings that proved difficult to eradicate. 

"H-hi-hello..." she returned, the dubious lilt of her voice flushed and hemorrhaging with awkwardness. Slowly, she drew her leg away from her bosom and replanted both feet firmly on the ground, squaring up her shoulders –– aiming for some semblance of self-possession, a quality which she'd had varying degrees of success with in the past. 

Despite the resurgence of social anxiety spuming in her chest, having been cut from the threadbare cloth of uncouthness, Lusca dropped her head and cast her eyes about for signs of eavesdroppers before abruptly blurting out in low tones: "inquiring minds want to know; do you ever have thoughts of suicide?" She eyed him, concern and eldritch wonder inlaying her voice.

he hadn't meant to make her feel uncomfortable. when the dark sylph rose a paw to her chest in slight discomfiture tachyon was swift to advert his gaze, overwhelmed by vexation that she had witnessed his obvious peeping. he inspected the coarse gravel beneath their feet, eyeing the sand that he had dragged along with him from the shore.

he was entirely taken back by the sharpness of her tongue, and delighted to learn the enjoyable keening of her wit. alas, he was not an equal match -- and for a moment, the large oaf blundered and blinked with confusion. he frowned, unable to draw forth from his dry-well of retorts a worthy comeback. "no.." he trailed, unsure if his lack of a swiftly parried rebuke would incense her. who knows -- maybe she was the type that was thrilled to be the brains and leader of situations such as these. in any case, his expression was cheery as he sought to deflect the topic of the conversation away from him. "but i heard a weird noise when i was in there. kinda sounded like a predator." his ears swiveled as he looked back at the seafoam crests. "you don't think they can come on land, do you?" his brow furrowed in anxiety -- he needed an answer from this ingenious maven STAT.

She was utterly devastated to learn that this fellow had heard some sort of wretched noise. Not just any noise, either –– a predatory noise! Her heart leapt impetuously into her mouth and she gave him a despairing look, peering worrisomely over his shoulder towards the dismal and boundless main, scouring the coast for any trace of an unchecked Kraken or some Lovecraftian monstrosity. She couldn’t help but visualize gigantic tentacles lashing the sands, attached to some homicidal Architeuthidae with a case of the munchies. 

”A-a uh, noise? There? No… of course not…” she stammered, sloooowly backpedaling in case Godzilla suddenly issued from the briny deep. Shifting her kiln-lit eyes back towards Tachyon, Lu took note of his uneasiness, and decided it would be convenient for her if she smoothed things over with him and then went on her merry way. Far, far away from the beach. She tried to act casual. ”Not that I’m scared or anything juvenile like that. Pffftttt. A bit of noise – biiiig deal.” she tossed her shoulders, flashing him a nonchalant smile... correction: a strained, fretful smile that completely mangled any artifice she may have possessed before.

Turning away for a moment her face became consumed with horror and heart palpitations throttled her heaving breast. She didn’t know what atrocities lurked beneath the seawater, nor was she terribly interested in finding out; she was basically a toothpick! She would be a dental instrument for removing grody, sea-creaturey plaque. 

The waif looked askance towards her gunmetal company, wondering selfishly if he would be willing to save her bacon if the situation escalated. It was an unlikelihood, though she preferred to think any gentleman would gladly take a bullet for her. ”You heard the noise, it’s probably after you. So…” her voice melted away grimly and she released a heavyhearted sigh. ”On the bright side, whatever it is will probably choke on your bones and perish shortly after consuming you. You’ll be a martyr!” She yawped, bounding away from the winsome interloper in a sly attempt to slip away before the behemoth became conspicuous. ”Well, see ya around!” she trilled in a sing-songy voice, pausing mid-stride for a moment in afterthought. ”Oh, nevermind. Good luck.” she corrected herself, hustling behind a stand of trees and peering from behind, waiting for Tachyon’s impending crucifixion.

tachyon was too busy miserably welling over the noise he had heard in the water to notice that lusca was stumbling to regain her cool -- and even if he had focused on her artifice, he was probably too emotionally stunted to recognize the genuine fear that threatened to swallow lusca's needle-thin countenance.

he frowned as she mentioned the unknown leviathan was probably after him. he didn't really like the odds of that. he was never one to favor the possibility that someday he might not exist and his brow knitted in visible distress.

as the slender waif made her bid to depart tachyon nearly blundered a "w-wait!", stumbling after her in an ungainly bound. he wasn't thrilled about the possibility of being her martyr, but what if it earned him kudos in bed? he couldn't ignore the possibility. "hey! wait up." he puffed his chest as he strode after her, trying his best to appear like he was some sort of boon to have as a companion.

"Wait up!" He hollered after her, though she would most certainly not do any waiting up. And all of this yelling! He was making a tremendous task of publicizing their current positions, which was sort of a dick move, and much to Lusca's chagrin, the guy tow-lined on her retreat, loftily trailing after her as she made her escape into the asylum of the trees. 

"HEY YOU!" she squawked, breaking out from the bushes to face him; "march back over there and take your demise like a man!" She narrowed her eyes and straightened up, jutting her lower lip as an altogether unpleasant expression soured her features. "Do I look like an appetizer?"

being a man wasn't really tachyon's forte -- though it was not for lack of substance under the hood. he just really didn't care for the concept -- it wasn't his duty to protect anything, least of all something that didn't need protection. it wasn't like nature hadn't provided a female with every possible advantage known to man -- shapely hips, attractive chest, sleek features.. tachyon would have been lost in his own thoughts if it were not for the fact his newest found (and prized) possession was making her get away.

in a rare moment of quipped brilliance, tachyon returned her wit with a gem of his own. "no, but you look appetizing." he admitted, pleased with his parry. unfortunately for tachyon, lightning doesn't strike twice -- it would probably be a long time coming before the male ever had another clever rebuke to carry. "where going?"

He met her scathing command with a slick rejoinder of wit, but like Tachyon, Lusca was not accoutered with an abundance of witticisms, so she was visibly frustrated with herself for having set him up for his quip and then not having a withering response prepared. 

She stared at him with half-lidded eyes, countenance destitute of all emotion. "Wow." She deadpanned. "Not on the menu pal." The wastrel responded coolly, walking away from him once again. "Where going?" "Away. I don't like it here." An apprehensive frown limned her lips while her eyes flitted nervously amongst the raucous shoreline. 

Gandering at Tachyon, the female wondered if maybe he had a case of the simples, but was not entirely dreading his presence for the time being. Like most dispersal wolves, without a pack, Lusca had all of the companionship impulses and patterns suddenly looking for a place to land, and Tachyon wasn't an entirely lousy option for an amigo.

he had little time to gloat over his small victory, for the female issued forth a look tachyon couldn't entirely identify. her expression was devoid of a discernible emotion, but what did it mean? tachyon wasn't entirely convinced the expression wasn't ominous in its origin.

he was disappointed to hear his thinly-veiled offer shot down so quickly -- and upon inward examination, tachyon was entirely perplexed with what would have encouraged lusca to so swiftly reject him. was he ugly? was he not clean enough?

was he fat?

while he thought, the distance between the two of them grew until he was rocked from his internal turmoil and noticed lusca was getting away. unwilling to endure loneliness no longer, tachyon pursued her fleeing form. "okay." it was a meager response, but a response none-the-less.

While Tachyon was in his head reeling over rejection, his hygiene, and his body's pertinence to gravity, the little black she-wolf was completely still hung-up on his foreordained death and her moral quandary: do I stay and become a final course, or do I flee and become karmic mincemeat? As the ashen loner took up the rear, flanking her, she ran the question over and over again in her mind. 

In her right mind, Lucy wouldn't know it if a bus hit on her, but the timing of his ogling was found to be highly inappropriate all things considered. Her aberrant imagination had become so immersed in the scenario of possible ruffians skulking near and the resulting paranoia had triggered some manner of syntrophic crisis, weighing so heavily on her brain that it managed to complete an emotional hydrologic cycle and restored her back to calmness.

As they trod along, Lusca split time between scoping out their surroundings and firing heated glances towards Tachyon as he tagged behind her. She canted her muzzle towards him but kept her eyes fixed dead-on. "Soooooo..." she spoke up asudden; "where's your barrel of monkeys?" Speculating that just maybe this monkey had been kicked out of the circus.

tachyon didn't mind bringing up the rear -- for many reasons. the first and foremost being if that watery kraken had any land relatives, lusca would be eaten first -- that would give him enough time to orchestrate an escape. she was also more attractive, and therefore, eyecatching. should they run into trouble, he had no doubt she was a suitable decoy.

the second reason, far less irrational, was that she was enjoyable to look at. plus, he didn't have to hide the fact he was staring. until she started parting scathing glances his way. he didn't like that -- and each time she did so, he visibly withered and hung back a pace or two to recollect his hot-house feelings.

when she asked about a barrel of monkeys he frowned, unsure of how to answer such a weird inquiry. he had never had a barrel, or monkeys, would this lack of possessions displease her? would she think he was not well-traveled if he revealed he hadn't ever even seen a monkey before? he would have kept his mouth and his insecurities shut were it not for the fact she was probably expecting an answer.

"don't have any." he paused, scanning the shaded bramble they were about to pass under. "where's your pack? it looks like they don't even feed you." he perked up immediately, a smile playing on his black gums. "hey, i could feed you."

He denied having a pack, or any monkeys to link with, a notion to which she gave a simple "ahhh."

"Don't have one." She shrugged. As he extended an offer to hunt for her, a bemused expression manifest itself on her mug. "Oh yeah?" Lusca chirped, stoup-ears framing up atop her skull, seeking his direction while she stopped midstride and turned to stomach his scruffy, ink-barred (admittedly unnervingly dapper) muzzle. The grin abiding it both made her roll her eyes and remember why she rarely kept company with the opposite sex. They were all Casanova hopefuls and she just didn't have time for it! 

She was slightly put-off that he was insulting her figure, but shook it off. She knew well how scant her form was – the life of a lone wolf was unforgiving, and winter was an unpromising future for her.

Giving him a leisurely up-and-down inspection, she went on to then hike her eyebrow and throw him a look that read yes I believe you... But she proceeded to humor him anyway, a small smile delineating her chops. "I don't doubt that." A snicker. "It's tantalizing," she drawled "I can feed myself, and I know how this deal goes. Dinner, then Netflix and chill amorous liaisons." Dramatically flourishing towards him with a deep voice grinding from her vocal chords, she batted her eyes. 

Once within the sheltered overgrowth and presumably concealed from harm's way, Lu sat plumb on her seat, lifting her paw to inspect her claws as though kicking around the idea in her head, but soon abruptly declared: "Okay. You've persuaded me. Terms of service and employment conditions, please."

"she could feed herself". from the looks of the way her skin hung gaunt and tight as a bow string's pulse, on jutting hips, tachyon doubted it.

he was stung by her rolling eyes -- her exasperation evinced a slow frown from the thickset wolf's muzzle. his ears cupped forward in interest as she mentioned amorous liasons - well, he hadn't expected it to go that far but if her mind went there immediately, did that mean she entertained similar thoughts?

tachyon's tail stirred in a hopeful thump -- he kept the idea close to his heart as he lingered carefully behind the fierce female. her inquiry pressed equally as close and for a moment tachyon struggled to formulate an answer. "oh. uhmm." his brow furrowed as he concentrated on impressing her. "terms of conditions.. i could hunt for you, maybe keep you company?" clearly he didn't understand how "quid-pro-quo" worked -- he was still stuck on the idea that he needed to offer copious amounts of services just to keep her in close proximity.

She eyed him suspiciously whilst he ruminated, expecting his virile whims to mastermind some sort of personalized, dissolute task for her to complete – one that would ultimately be in violation of her fleshly integrity, she was most sure. Would she be expected to humor his eyeball licking kink, perhaps subjected to his dendrophilic inclinations? Was pudding to be involved?

Alas, lucky or unlucky for Lus, Tachyon’s sensory input/output mechanism appeared to be a lemon, and he presented the idea of simply spending additional time in her presence without much in the way of provisos. Either something of value was to be gleaned from the miscellany of abrasive character traits from which she was composed, or he was a glutton for punishment.

Oh gatos. Was humiliation his thing? His grand ultimate idee fixe? Two words: Unwilling! Participant!!

Lusca screwed up her eyes with mistrust. No, no, things never went this smoothly for Scrat – rarely did she get her acorn and never before had she’d been a recipient of ammunition airdrops. Squinting at him, she searched his overcast facial features as though looking for the fine print squiggled across the membrane of his eyeballs.

Finding nothing that would bely his innocence, the lithe ingenue backed up out of his personal space. ”Okay, here’s the deal,” She conceded defeat with a heavy sigh. ”Bring me something filling–not…fish," she raised her voice emphatically, making sure he took note of her required quarry specs. She inwardly justified her specification as being that: A) she was a competent piscator and could make an easy meal of salmon on her own, B) frankly she was already concerned he was Gollum, and C) she wanted the five-star experience, the Yelp ratings, the entitlement to being indignant because an air particle touched her soufflé. 
 
”or.. bugs..” she continued on, wrinkling her nose and making a face of aversion. She wasn’t sure if Tachyon was the type to feast on creepy-crawlies, but she didn’t want to leave any room for personal interpretation of what a meal was in their contract. After a brief pause, Lu nodded at him, with an edited spin on his supposed “profit” from the agreement in mind: ”and I’ll let you escort me upriver.” 

Glancing over his shoulder, out towards the dark womb of the hurling seas where ruching of geometric gray spun on the loom of cresting waves, Lusca felt a lump in her throat. Her stomach rolled in flow with the waves and whether or not it derived from hunger or nerves was anybody’s guess. Swallowing harshly, the black wolf about-faced and began walking further into the forest, beckoning motion of her snout bidding Tachyon to fall in stride. ”What’s tonight's special?”

after a great length of time tachyon returned, his heart fluttering as he made his way back to lusca. he was fearful she would have left -- maybe her agreement was a ruse to distract him while she made her get away. tachyon's lower lip nearly quivered in sadness as his mind enacted out the scene -- faithful man returning, faithless rogue of a sheba leaving -- faithful man's hand in his heart as he collapses in interminable grief.

in his mouth, however, was a meal -- but not a wonderful one. in tachyon's presence there were no five star meals -- only meager ones -- and all the piteous supplicant had reserved between his teeth was the tiny frame of a mouse.

We'll see. A most troubling string of parting words, his voice rich with equivocal nuance. Before the locus of his interests (who was unfit to reject any handouts regardless of their quality, given her present state of irrepair) could protest he set off due west, his tufty stormmantled buns disappearing into the wilderness. She would never admit to watching a little longer than necessary as he paraded his wares on farewell. But she totally did. Totes.

Twenty or so minutes into the waiting game and Lusca was rapidly growing bored. In line with Tachyon's fears she considered flaking on their agreement and bearing off sans Romeo, and on the impulse of her thoughts she began to roam aimlessly in the direction opposite of where he had departed from.

Mid-tromp her stomach suddenly clenched in sharp pain and gnarred loudly, the tender contraction causing her to tense up and stoop her peaked shoulders. Ears canting pitifully, she slowly slid to her armpits into a complete stretch upon the forest floor. Like sugarplum fairies danced in kid's heads on the night before Christmas, in her mind danced images of Tachyon returning with the elk offspring of Godzilla in tow, his physique now exaggeratedly robust and countenance flinty with a ruthless sort of carelessness – she availed herself to the figmental scene in which she was being hand-fed grapes while sprawled upon an elaborate chaise-lounge. 

An hour passed and Lusca's ears pricked with the sound of footfalls and bushbreak. A sigh of relief was hauled from her breast and she rose partway to her feet, waiflike torso warping to face him. "Thank God. I was wond-" the solace in her eyes dehydrated as they befell the meager helpings of a rodent. A. Rodent! Taken aback, she stood completely to stilts and flattened her ears, taking turns staring between Tachyon (who was very much not strapping manfolk borne as conceived by her imagination) and his modest kill. "What the hell is this." She asked him flatly, lips puffing and huffing with consternation.

tachyon didn't have time to be pleased with his alms, for it seemed the meagerness of its construction did the opposite of appease the waif-like woman. tachyon paused as he witnessed the hopeful contentment retract from lusca's features -- much in the harrowing manner he imagined the last light would be extinguished by darkness. slowly his hopeful grin evaporated into nothingness.

however stout tachyon's foundation, he found his rectitude crumbling in the same manner a pillar splinters when faced with an earthquake's lash. he withered, her flat tone desiccating any sense of remaining hope from his frame. the mouse fell to the ground and his ears swept back as if preparing for a strike -- tachyon quailed before the mighty wrath of the wispy wolf, rounding himself in preparation of verbal lashing.

"a mouse." he answered feebly, feeling as tiny as the crushed and still rodent at their feet.

Watching the genesis of self-esteem buckle under the decrepit sensibilities of Tachyon –– his biscuit crumbled in her choking fist –– did nothing to illume the hardened, embittered darkness etched into the eaves of a disappointed mien. "I'm not mad." she announced coolly, strolling in a half-way circle around him and the loot he'd coughed up. "I'm disappointed." His scrimp plunder was given a dismissive look – if she wanted to swallow bones she would have absconded to the nearest brothel.

"Our agreement seems to be in sudden disproportion." The coalblack profundity of her face seemed to dim, as a dredger's carbide lamp might dampen and menace an ineluctable and eternal termination of service. Indeed – the noise he'd hearkened earlier in the day had come to claim him. "What are you going to do about this problem?" She inquired with an unnerving brightness to her tone, a smile unfurling upon her gums.

despite the quiver that threatened to split him, tachyon remained still -- if not a little hunched in preparation for a physical blow.

yet none came.

instead, the punch came in the form of a verbal blindside -- an emotional wallop launched towards him with all the unyielding reckoning of a second coming. tachyon felt his edges fray, as if wry-fingered fate had finally come to unravel him. this female was resolute, her words carrying a clout her slender body could not wield.

and if this was how she accepted a gift from him, one was inclined to wonder what she would think of the other mouse in his possession.

somehow tachyon managed to keep his lower lip from quivering -- though his gaze faltered under the she-wolf's ice-cold stare. there was likely no coming back from this -- and for a moment, tachyon envisioned slipping away from her all together. his life would be significantly less harrowing if he did so -- but it'd also be boring. and being of a glutton-for-punishment variety, tachyon was thrilled to see she offered him a means to redeem himself.

"get a rat, maybe?" he didn't wait for an answer -- with feet aflying he amscrayed from her presence before the lancing of her tongue ripped him open again.

Get out the rye bread and mustard grandma, cause it's GRAND SALAMI TIME!

"YOU FUCK! GET BACK HERE!" she bellowed, squatting to lend herself momentum as she broke into a headlong gallop in his trajectory as he evacuated the premises at full tilt – her, fueled by immense feelings of deception and Tachyon, flying by the seat of his pants on diesel and the threat on his life. For all of his stoutness, he ran like greased lightening. Seabiscuit was gone and he was not coming back.

Unfortunately, adrenaline only got the black tootsie so far before aching hunger did in her energy and she was out of gas in short order. Panting, rib-fretted sides expanded rabidly as breath left her lungs faster than she could pull in oxygen.

Fuming, hateful, she sneezed thrice, olfactories overwhelmed with a nervous system astir from the dire and unpleasant emotions that ensued after deception's vice grip coiled like a grinning serpent around her throat.

With a grim, unforgiving glare in the direction he bolted, a final snort ousted from her nares and she took off in the direction from which they both came.