Wolf RPG

Glittering frost clung to the early morning landscape, though he had long risen before the eventual rise of the sun. His restlessness was brought on in part by the restlessness that had overtaken Harlyn, and the cold morning had only drawn whatever residual warmth he had felt away. It left him grim where his thoughts dared to wander and so, he had opted to keep himself busy.

Given the snowfall that had come in recent days, it had provided the Hollow with cover of wondrous design; the temperature had scarcely rose high enough to peel and melt away the snow that had plastered itself against the wood. Woodlands that were once light and airy now felt damp and blanketed, but that very same snowfall had been nothing more than a canvas for the wolves and their prey to crisscross upon.

He had come across the tracks of a snowshoe hare and followed in its wake, not entirely knowing whether or not he would find it before it spied him. Though the majority of his wounds had healed and were now nothing more than gruesome closed reminders, he found there was still adjustments to be made. He hadn't hunted since before his unfortunate encounter with the cougar and the urge to do had long burned at both ends. But the diminished sight left him to track and slowly at that, perhaps so that if he did happen upon his quarry he would not startle it.

He heard the long approach of a wolf in the snow well before he chose to acknowledge it. Given the depth that he had rooted himself within the territory of the Hollow, Mordecai did not fret over whether or not less than savory types would permit themselves to tread so far. Whatever faint acknowledgment he gave those footfalls came in the form of a turned ear — only at first — before the hushed sound of Ilya's bark drew him to stop.

Drawing his solitary gaze to linger over her form as she joined him, he mirrored her greeting. He refrained from offering her a sound greeting, though the inclination was there. She seemed in better spirits than the last time he had seen her, though he did not question or doubt the impact that finding Luke had on them. He had yet to seek him out, if only to allow him the rest that he had given Mordecai in turn, but the time was coming.

For now, there was the premise of a hunt.

Venturing on, his attention returned to the disturbed path of pristine landscape to pick up the scent again. His was a patient venture, though now with the budding sensation that he could not falter. It was subconscious at best, indescriable that he would suss it out in spite of lacking total depth and field of view. But the show would go his way, or at least so he thought and in its wake there would be no description of what they were setting off to do.

As the minutes drew out, they progressed onward towards an unknown final destination. The hard pack of the snow made the journey easy beneath the bare canopies overhead and the silence that proceeded them aided him in keeping his senses focused. The duo of wolves were hardly alone in their tracking, but he had little want to pursuit other creatures that were out on the wintry day. As time would have it they were making their way nearer and nearer to where the hare had paused for the time being, but their approach would not go unnoticed.

Their quarry in all its pale and seemingly bug-eyed study of the world around it picked up on the minute passage of the wolves. Its focus was more on sussing out the foliage beneath the snowfall to graze, and as the winter carried on it found that its own search was taking it farther and farther from its home. For as many as there were within the Hollow itself, the hare had only kept reserved worries as to whether or not it would have stayed on the dinner plan.

But when it dawned on it that the wolves had found it and drew in closer to its location, its grazing halted and its body grew tense in preparation. All it took was a raise of its head and when that happened, Mordecai happened upon it as his own steps drew to stop. He let out a breath swiftly, the action followed by a swift lick of his chops. The Ostrega sprang forward in near time with the rush of the hare, who dove into the closest warren it could find.

And where there was a warren, perhaps lied the chance of more than one hare.

He closed in on the warren with speed that almost frightened him; the ground rushed up violently and in a flurry of scattered snow as he shoved his muzzle into the space. It was scarcely large enough for him to do such a thing and needless to say, he did not go about cramming his head into it. The ground itself blocked his already limited vision, and after several moments of trying to reach after the fleeing creature he gave up his pursuit. At least in that way.

Lifting his dirtied muzzle out of the gap, Mordecai sought where Ilya was in his resulting commotion. It was not a lengthy search, as the petite flash of darkness had stayed nearby. "Find the other entrance," he prompted, "we can't let it get out." It couldn't have been too hard to discover either, for the tracks were as plain as day through the snow and its varied banks in the wood. He doubted that it was far away at all and rightly so, turned his attention back to the warren's mouth and began to dig furiously.

Tearing at the cold earth, the progress Mordecai made was slow at best. He drew his gaze from his actions long enough to see Ilya disappear through the timber, but caught her emergence not long after that. Good, it seemed she had located where the other exit was, or at least that was the thought that he had. In reality, there was perhaps no telling where and when the warren had exits; for all he knew they had their own system worked out beneath their very feet. Or it could have been another warren altogether. When it came to the intricacies of hares and their lot, Mordecai only knew that they were fairly decent tasting.

His motions eased into a stop, though mostly out of tiring himself. The earth did not have the give that it would in the weeks to come, where the snow melt would soften and the temperatures would warm. His chances and grabs for purchase had only turned a narrow opening to something more malleable and the goodies he sought within were still safely tucked inside.

And then, Ilya barked into the depths of the warren; his attention diverted itself back to it at the faintest sounds of scrabbling within. They definitely lucked out this time, finding both exits. With little idea of what next to do, Mordecai opted to do as she did. He bent again, shoving his muzzle into the crevice and barked in response.

Where he had hoped to hear the sound of what could be none less than the flurry of hares freaking out and scurrying for safety, there was only the one. One that he realized was quickly going in the opposite direction from him and towards his hunting partner. He missed the action of it springing from the hole in its brave escape, but did catch sight of Ilya snapping it out of the air. He stood stock still, curious of whether or not she would retain her grasp on it... and she did only with a little bit of panache to go with it.

He snorted hotly, more amused with her haphazardly flip of the creature that had ended its life. He left his place to come to her, his tail swinging up into a congratulatory wave. "That seemed unexpected," he said to her as he came to a stop. Not close enough that he would arouse concerns that he was there to take her rabbit of course — she had caught it in the end, fair and square. "Gave you a scratch? They're good for that."

Though certainly a strange way to capture a hare, Mordecai only offered a shrug in response to her initial statement. It was true, at least she had caught it. If she hadn't, they would have certainly been in for a chase. For as much as he would have enjoyed the chase, it would have been a difficult thing to perform given the wintry conditions around them. Their quarry was made for the weather and perhaps naturally would outpace the predatory wolf.

And where Mordecai had anticipated her to eagerly collect her prize, she offered it to him. "Are you sure?" he queried with a cant of his head. "You caught it." Of course, the gesture was appreciated all the same. He didn't exactly have hungry gnawing on his insides, but he could think of someone who probably did.

She was intent on giving it up and so he obligated at first, stepping in to scoop up the hare without much consideration. But in spite of the instinct to claim it for himself, he relented in carting it away for a moment. Instead he let it plop back down to the ground. "Actually, I think we could probably split it if we pull it apart. I know it isn't much, but it works. Which end do you want?" If nothing else, he figured they could pull it apart with relative ease.

She made her decision and when she lifted the hare, Mordecai playfully latched onto the other to pull.  He had done something similar once upon time, though with whom escaped him.  Planting his forelegs and locking his elbows, he pulled hard on the hare.  This was a bit more of a tricky sort than just playing tug of war with a stringy bit of intestine; the fur of the hare had a bit of give to it before the flesh and bone.

He growled, though hardly menacing, and his tail swung easily at his hocks.  Whether or not he found find his much smaller and darker subordinate game to give in and play back, however, was anyone's guess.

She took to the playful nature of separating the meal; he was delighted. It wasn't too often Mordecai found himself engaging in such a thing, but it was also a necessary morale booster. For all the darkness that had been cast on their little neck of the woods, he considered this just another ray of light to prove that they would adapt and overcome.

As Ilya's head weaved and bobbed, he pulled the kill between them towards the ground and twisted his own head. Their tug of war on it was just as much for play as it was to try and break the hare in two. He felt his own grip slipping on it but not because his companion was stronger; the patch of fur he had a hold on was beginning to go. He tightened his jaws on the hare, latching onto the bone and its tendons that were relentless in giving up.

It was only a matter of time now.

The hare separated with a final resounding snap, much to his surprise. He had hoped for a bit more give, but the disappointment was brief and discarded quickly thereafter. His own half went limp against the snow as he moved to scoop it up again, holding it for what would no doubt be the final time.

But the message that he missed was the one that Ilya was waiting on him to eat his own share — something he hadn't put into much consideration. Though peckish, he had opted to return with his half for Harlyn and with a muffled woof following his snatched up piece, was already venturing off back the way they had come.