For the first time in a series of many days, Lusca had managed to make a hairbreadth escape from the hostage situation that was Tachyon's company. While his awareness was encumbered by heavy sleep she stole away at first light, skulking on the sensible, whist soles of a doe as she sculpted her path towards the outermost retreats of Barrow Fields.
Thus far in her career as a lone wolf Lusca had endured a siege of hardships re nutrition. Crustaceans and small mammals were the best she could do for herself during the rigors of long-distance travel, however pickings were razor-thin for the unmighty wolf and the former menu item was indigenous to a region she did not care to make a repeat reconnaissance of.
A ground-eating lope took the sable guttersnipe from one end of the plain to the other, the sepia tone of the environment complementing her drab mood as she prodded about. Riffling through the damp soil and thatches of fieldgrass, she was enticed by the opportunity of securing a meal for herself in the form of a vole or quail, flushed from their coverts by the cloudburst.
Nose to the ground she tread against the grasses and a blend of smells stormed her nostrils, but the rain showers had diluted any distinguishing features and she couldn't isolate the scents of potential prey from the organic compounds in the terrain. With an impatient snort the wolfling mentally staked this area as unprofitable and swung down the timberline, hope of greater luck and uplifted spirits on the western territory clutching her gut.
She wasn’t sure what trip of luck had floundered by her side, but Capri had managed to catch herself a rabbit. Granted, it was on the smaller side, and looked rougher for wear (the most likely reason she had even managed to nab the little beast), but her mouth was practically salivating upon the gripped fur as she made her way across the rather quiet fields. She loped past the strange mounds that jutted upwards, her icy eyes scanning for a place that would offer a hint more seclusion than the blunt opening she stood within.
Weaving through the grass, her ears cupped forward as a scent teased at her nostrils. It barely filtered through the scent of blood and rabbit – but it was there none the less, and with calculated suspicion, Capri cast a weary gaze about her. Concern probed her very being at the possibility of losing her lucky lunch, and crouching lower, the girl debated whether to wolf down the rabbit as fast as she could or to try to disengage from the other instead.
Tuulikki’s desire for purpose hadn’t much changed now that she’s fallen under the rule of Wanheda but there is the lingering feeling of urgency. She’d been leisurely when it came to her mission, to finding the place her heart would be most comfortable. Now it’s a whirlwind and she had to find someone to take her place before the other thought her decision in sparing her is a bad idea. Finding wolves with the same beliefs as she does since she left home hadn’t been that easy but finding the Wanheda spirit herself meant there were more out there, more believers, more wolves that knew what she had to say.
She had to wait to leave the island, much too small to swim the distance from shore to shore, and when the sandbar appeared, she wastes no time getting back to the mainland. The ground feels the same beneath her feet but there is a security there, that the ground beneath her won’t wash or float away. And being away from Wanheda left a fresher breath in her lungs than before.
Little wind is pulled north, territories she would have explored already if she hadn’t gone to the island. It hadn’t been her destiny, though, so as she explores she takes it all in anyway.
The scent of another crosses her and she lowers her head, coming down a small dip to keep herself hidden. Tuulikki wrinkles her nose at the sudden scent of blood and death, fur standing on end as she’s drawn in. She watches the wolf bound toward the tree line, moving up another slope of the field so she makes herself visible. The scent of blood doesn’t come from the direction of the first wolf she sees, turning her gaze elsewhere but coming up empty handed in her vision.
mica if you want to have tuulukki trail after her, lusca (positioned upwind) was going to acknowledge her in my next post.
Head stuck in the tall-grass, hindquarters northbound, Lusca had no reason to suspect that she was being spied on from a hilltop. Her nose shuffled through the sprouts, eagerly searching for shrews, hiding quail — anything that would settle her stomach. She was well into week one without food; her knowledge of this region was scarce and ideal hunting spots were at best unknown to her, and at worst, nonexistent. The gradual decrease in stamina did not bode well for her the deeper Winter thrust its blade into the heart of the wilds.
Lusca almost noticed the figure idling in her peripherals, when on the spurs of a bitterly cold inbound wind suddenly came the stench –- traces of gore, perhaps masking something less persuasive, but most importantly to her, there was food! What devils luck she had! Ideally this animal could have been in poor health and succumbed to the harsh elements, but regardless of whatever circumstances had fallen to the creature's lot, Lusca forgot about the distraction and plucked gamely towards its source over the verdant mounds like some demure revenant patrolling the lengths of her solemn acre.
Rising up the slope, she paused as her eyes scanned the swaths of greensward until the crouched figure of another filled her sights. Just briefly, she entertained the thought that it was Tachyon creeping, bringing with him some sort of delicacy, but the idea of it was soon quashed as a black-swallowed face came into prominence. From what she could tell this wolf was incomparably more well-fed than she — where Lusca had jutting hipbones, this Other had sinews padding hers. Her snout could be likened to the barrel of a rifle; Capriccio’s more canon to their species. The female ahead had silver influence where she herself was possessed of burnt-umber.
Lusca noted the fresh kill stashed guardedly amidst her legs, a hare unrevealed to her — it was fair to assume that this was the dead animal she’d tracked for some ways. Privately begrudging Capriccio’s opulence, she extended her muzzle and savored it from afar, but despite her yearning, the intent to burglarize her did not cross her mind; Lusca may have been wily, but contrary to coyotes she was no sneak thief.
Scampering forward a few feet, the lobo announced herself with a chuff. ”Oi!” she called out from a courteous distance. Having not fleshed out a proper greeting, she quickly followed up with: ”where did you find that?” a faint measure of dashed hopes shading her tone.
She remained frozen, her mind whirling as she debated how quickly she could wolf down her chance meal without it forcing its way back up from fast digestion. Her nerves frayed, and her nose picking up yet one more scent, though undistinguished, Capri’s jaws were about to slither forward and push back any savoring in favor of inhaling her food when a dark form swept forward.
There was a pregnant pause between the two – Capri’s pale frosted eyes studied the other, notably thinner wolf with apprehension, though her muzzle jerked closer downward, guarding her meal with clear indication she was not so willing to give it up. She did not move, but as the other questioned her, the she-wolf’s ears slid back to her skull as she considered the words. “In that direction,” she finally offered, her voice lifting as her muzzle gave an ever-so-gentle nod to the east of her. She did little to move and reveal her findings to the wolf – the scent was tantalizing enough, she did not wish to see the sight of her meal to it. Pausing, she waited, curious to see if this other would move on and leave her in peace.
Was this the part where she offered half, to avoid a fight? Or.. was this the part she used more to both of their advantage? "I might be willing to share for a trade," she began slowly, her tail giving a sweep behind her.
This has nothing to do with either of you but I am not sure what direction I want to take Tuulikki anymore -- in fact, I caught up on threads today and completely forgot about her until now LOL -- so I am going to have her opt out of meeting (unless you guys have something interesting to shove at her). I'll try and catch you next time, either with Tuulikki if she stays in game or another character. <3
Something else catches the other wolf’s attention—perhaps the same thing she’d picked up—and doesn’t seem to notice the wolf at all. Her ears cup forward but she ducks down for the moment so she isn’t spotted, rather wishing to wait and see what would unfold once the wolf discovers what they’ve both been able to smell. Keeping herself low to the ground, Tuulikki’s crouched form touches the cool surface as speech travels to her ears. Words that are not audible enough for her to understand but enough that there is another wolf lingering nearby. Perhaps the one responsible for the scent of blood but, whatever the cause, she realizes her purpose will not be fulfilled here.
Tuulikki lingers for only a moment longer before she decides against approach, tucking herself away for the time being.
it's cool :) and i so apologize for my slowness!
Her eyes tracked the directive motion of Capriccio's snout, indicating where she might find similar pickings. A sigh breathed from her. "You're a life saver," was her solemn thanks as she drew a step to fare due east -- but only a stride was made before the woman's voice grabbed her again by the wrists.
She proposed a deal. Tit for tat. Quid pro quo. Like for like. Suspiciously, Lusca narrowed her eyes. Her venture with bartering had so far come back to bite her -- Tachyon had no business signing contracts -- so, naturally, she advanced on the offer with uttermost incredulity that it would end favorably for her.
However, it remained that the demand for food would treble as razorblade-infused winter air menaced and bit through susceptible bones, and her stomach burned from the sour acids that spumed against its lining at the thought.
Lusca stalked forward, eying the silver-caped female. "I'm listening..." her voice rolled smoothly.
The sleek female seemed friendly enough -- she didn't attempt to rip off Capri's face for a taste of rabbit, so that was about A+ in Capri's books. Studying her newfound comrade with slight hesitance, the girl shifted her weight then, noting the scent of the other was beginning to fade.
"Information on this area, and I will give you half." She paused, her muzzle canting slightly. It might have seemed like a ridiculous trade -- but Capri sought information on this land, and she had another companion to fall upon to aide in hunting. This rabbit was not a life meal. "Packs you know about -- what they are like. Any wolves you might know of and what they are like. Anything and everything." She paused, her wolfish brows arching as she waited for confirmation on this deal -- she felt it to be a bargain.
She slumped her shoulders and sighed, dropping neatly to her haunches. The exchange volunteered, though fair, was contingent on Lusca’s trow of awareness of their surroundings and in that area she was no tree of knowledge — perhaps a sprout, or a crunchy leaf. ”I’m not of much use.” She warned, falling silent for a moment to forage the roots of her memory. Barring this female, Tachyon was the only other conscious thing the girl had encountered recently, but her gut was tantalized, yearning for that rabbit and its fatty pith, so she came clean with what little she knew and hoped it would suffice in scoring her a helping. ”There is a male around here somewhere. He’s aggravating, and tiresome, and… questionable in general,” she went on with a smile, ”but the early stages of questionable– like, he’s curable and might one day be normal.”
A pause there, Lusca ruminated over what else had been thrown at the wall of her amygdala and stuck ––like gum stuck to the bottom of a coffee table, or al dente noodles chucked against the cabinet. It was, without a doubt, a rare occasion for her to be so aware of her surroundings, but trauma had a way of tenaciously clasping to one's psyche. ”The shoreline is a half-day’s trip that-a-way.” The wolf nudged in a north-east orientation, dread grafted faintly to her voice. ”If you want trouble for yourself I can’t recommend it enough.”
At the other's warning of caution about her lack of information, Capri gave a gentle shrug of her shoulders, her eyes gleaming as they studied the dark she-wolf. Terich-mir might have liked her -- she could always invite her to join them.
Pausing, she listened as the stranger spoke, and found herself disappointed in what was offered, despite having been given the heads up. It would seem the woman was in the same shoes as she was in -- terribly new, and still trying to figure it all out. Primarily, Capri was interested to know if this Teekon Wilds was a decent place to settle -- or if she and her companion should continue further.
Bending her muzzle down, she began to work through the rabbit, her teeth dividing the small creature in half to make good on her own word. But the other was not done yet, and something she tagged on intrigued the silver-tipped girl -- especially the shift of tone in her voice. Casting her eyes back up, she hummed softly. "And why would you say that?"
She was unsure of whether or not she wanted to address the beings of irreputable character, or the perils of the boundless main, or the fee-faw-fum of the many-headed serpents Lusca was so sure existed amongst the kelp forests.
Ultimately, she elected to cast her lot in the option that made her sound the least unbalanced—though whether or not that would be wrought a triumph was in the hands of the delivery. ”Something mean lives there.” She padded a short distance more towards the pewter-edged woman, eying the rabbit shortly before making insinuating eye-contact with Capriccio. ”I smelled it, and heard it—all terrible.” Luc paused, growing interested in knowing why this female was willing to divvy up her bounty for what was an altogether modest sip of information. "Why do you wanna know this, again?" She pried, voice steeped in wary inquisitiveness.
Capri’s intrigue quickly fled to disbelief – though she managed to withhold her jaw drop as the stranger oozed dramatically about something terrible living by the shore. The Lochness, perhaps? Her disbelief stemmed far from the story at hand – it came from how very obvious it was to the silver-tipped girl that her leg was being pulled, and as she dark wolf cast her eyes upon part of the prize Capriccio had offered in return for information, the she-wolf lifted a paw and placed it heavily upon her claim.
“I’m starting to re-think our little deal,” she drawled, her eyes narrowing. “As you’re not really giving me anything useful, are you?” She disregarded the other’s question – instead, her own form began to tense up, prepared if the stranger tried anything. “In fact, you’ve given me nothing. I should just inhale this entire thing by myself.”
Capriccio's demeanor turned on a dime and Lusca's heart sank as the loner threatened an extinction event of their deal. What kinda fresh bolshevik! The menace of the coast was all too real for the kettleblack she-wolf, so to rescind their prearrangement was, to her, nothing short of dirty politics. Her trust issues kindled hotly and the loner pledged, in the solitude of her own thoughts, to stop trading services with strangers going forward.
"That's not fair!" she shrieked, flailing into a bow and tossing back her head with a yip. The feel the indian rug-burn of her own naivety (a repeat offender) was massively unpleasant for her and the underdeveloped vertebrae of a grudge was cradled gingerly in her arms.
Lusca threw herself to the ground with a flourish––and figuring she was out one rabbit anyway, an innocently solemn quality welled her voice. She draped a foreleg over her snout and hefted a dramatic sigh. "Another day of dry pinecones and sprigs for my babes, if they're lucky."
The dark woman explicitly stated her upset at Capriccio discussing the possibility of rescinding her words, and a snort escaped the frosted she-wolf. “It’s perfectly fair – you’re painting some tale instead of actually giving me facts, which was our deal,” she pointed out, ignoring the she-wolf as she then talked about feeding her puppies pinecones. Given that the woman was far too young to probably bear young yet, the Roux-Abrhen allowed a quieter growl to slip past her jaws, her mouth inching closer to the rabbit, as if she would inhale it in one movement.
“Continuously lying isn’t helping our deal, either,” she noted darkly, her teeth now nibbling at her meal, preening it quietly.
She stopped rolling about temporarily to peer upside down at the woman, not discreet in spying to confirm or deny her wheedling's success. Unfortunately for Lusca, her strategy and lackluster performance yielded no results, so with a grunt she swept herself upward and a frown hung from her lips. "Loooooook lady, I don't know what to tell you." She said.
Her features brightened for a spell. "I'm Lusca. I'm very naiiiiiice." Her pitch trebled and she waggled her eyebrows. Eh? Ehhh? "No pack for me, but that's okay. Now you know one more!" A name to a face, maybe that would sweeten the kitty? Wishful thinking–she was definitely not getting commission for this.
The swarthy woman cast her eyes toward her, eyeing Capri from an upside down position. If this brief interlude was any indication as to why the sea was dangerous, it was likely because the creature before her had opened her mouth and let loose her personality – who wouldn’t want to shut her up somehow?
The other pushed themselves back up right, and Capri shifted protectively over her rabbit. A name was given – and the description that she was nice. As if any of this solved any of the burning questions Capriccio had for the land she currently found herself in.
“How the hell are you still alive?” The question erupted from her, and while partially joking, it was mostly incredulous. Is this what survival of the fittest looked like?
so sorry for dragging this out! want to wrap it up?
The woman's abrupt, bluntly-spoken question caught her off guard and she froze with her lips pursed, moving only to eke out an uncertain:
"dunno." What was she to know of the Fate's designs? Lusca slumped her shoulders and flit her gaze, voice airy with distraction upon a swishing in the trees which had seized her attention.
"Luck... I think... mostly--" She murmured, then snapped her eyes, newly optative, back to Capriccio and cleared her throat.
"Hey um, so, the rabbit." This was said meekly, but the nuances of her tone entreated for an explicit, yes-or-no answer: you gonna share the load or not?
The woman was eager to see what she would do – and Capri was still undecided. There was a part of her, on principle alone, that she felt the need to simply take the rabbit and walk away. How many times had she told the woman to offer her information, and even told her she had wanted details, and been given nothing?
Too many times.
Scornful, Capri lifted herself then, her eyes cold as they looked at the mournful loner. She was a pathetic thing – but she was clearly hiding something from Capri – whether a lie, or something more, she had lost the care to continue the conversation. “We had a deal – you didn’t provide your end of it,” was all she said before sweeping her muzzle down, scooping up her prize, and loping away, her form stiff as she waited to see if the other loner would try to attack her.
If not, then Capri would be quick to share her morsel with Terich-mir.
last post from me. archiving.
"You proposed the deal expecting too much. That's on you. You also said "anything and everything". I gave you anything and everything I had. What I haven't given you is a reason to keep calling me a liar. But hey, that's also on, oh, right––you." She sourly pinpointed this other woman's presumptuous arrogance, narrowing her eyes to slits with disdain glistering therein. Maybe that was Lusca's error––hammering out deals with perfect strangers, again. Except unlike Tachyon, and herself for that matter, Capriccio hadn't even put in an effort of good faith, and one riding at the helm of a bullet's mistrust should not aim so indiscriminately if they didn't want a rain of crossfire.
She'd conveniently remitted her one desperate lie of motherhood to oblivion already, and hey, if the loner wanted an exhaustive delineation of her surroundings she might have first considered consulting with someone with the job description––not Johnny-come-lately who had been self-described as "not of much use." Perhaps someone from Dora's backpack?
The silver-caped female swept to her feet with the rabbit of contention betwixt her teeth and forged a nimble path in the opposite direction, visibly tense. Rolling her eyes, Luc scoffed and whispered amidst the privacy of her breath's reach, "stuck-up bitch." Before turning on the incurve of her heel to scamper across the treeline's threshold.