In the aftermath of the battle, tension in his muscles and the hardness of his expression did not leave. For a long time, he stared after retreating wolves and continued to rumble low and deep in his chest, such was his anger. Eventually, the black wolf paced a trench into the snow as he stalked back and forth along his borders, lips twitching as he fought against the urge to run the pack out immediately, but he held himself in check.
The following morning found him still pacing, as he had done through the night. His ears were angled back, the fur along his spine still stiff, and he bore a terrible scowl. His tracks were now stained pink and red as blood mixed with snow. The she wolf had not fought back against him, but her guard dog had laid open his shoulder, and the constant work of those muscles kept the blood slowly seeping, until it had trickled through his fur, down his leg, and became part of his trench's floor.
He stopped. His tail twitched. He had waited long enough. If she had not done as he had commanded, then she and her wolves would not be given another chance to leave. They would become one with their foolish mountain. Taggarik, still furious, howled to his wolves once more, and as they gathered to him, he wordlessly lead them forward. But he did not need to speak to tell his intent; his ears were thrust forward and his tail arched above his hips, his steps deliberate and his focus severe.
So, he lead them in a march onto Thunder Dome...
...and found their neighbors had gone.
He snorted, his expression jeering. They were triumphant, but he was not celebratory, even as he raised his muzzle in another howl. His chords were bitter and strict in warning. Never again would he tolerate another pack beside his own.
The beta wolf followed his leading male across the joint borders into enemy territory. His injured neck twinged and he stepped more gingerly for it. He cast a hard-eyed gaze around himself as the pack travelled upward and kept his jaws clamped tightly, refusing to acknowledge the strain upon his limbs, lungs and heart with panting breaths. He huffed through his nose instead, playing the part of an angered bull well, but for his lean build. Farstep could never amount to the heft and weight of a bull, but that truth never stopped him before.
As they climbed higher, the dog fanned out from the group, drooped his head and grazed the ground with his nose. Inhaling deeply several times, he traced the scent of their adversaries higher and further from his comrades, but there were no tracks less than a day old here. At length Taggarik determined that the rival pack was gone and called off the search with a thundering howl to challenge the gale that seemed to permanently writhe above the mountain. Farstep planted his paws upon a sturdy ridge and tossed his head back, adding his voice to that of his leader.
Terich had not been present during the battle between ridge and dome, but he had heard the howls and snarls, the vicious attack between the packs as the border scuffle turned into war. Even from his distance, Terich-mir knew the sounds, and knew that whatever became of it, he would remain a staunch and loyal supporter of Taggarik and Capriccio. In the end, however, the ridge wolves had won this battle, and Taggarik called the pack to him the next morning, having given the other wolves enough time to vacate the thunder dome.
Terich knew a little of the healing arts and watched as his pack-mates limped and shuffled their way across the border, blue eyes especially riveted upon Taggarik and Farstep. If he was a lesser wolf, Terich might decide to take advantage of their injuries and press his luck, but he was not a lesser wolf. He learned his lesson from those weeks ago; he was not meant to be a leader and he would not begrudge Farstep his place among those ranks.
His lapis gaze turned toward Capri as they climbed, worry in his heart for her. They traveled together, Terich slightly apart, up the hills of the mountain, and found that the rival pack had fled. Good. Taggarik and Farstep threw up their voices to the wind, to proclaim this land not quite theirs, but off limits. Terich-mir's howl joined them, his voice softer and melodious, as he again pledged to protect his family against outsiders, and to chase off any unwanted rivals that saw fit to try their paw against the formidable ridge pack.
Illea joined the ranks of the ridge. The young female walked across Thunder Dome with her pack, where the other pack had been chased out. A triumphant rush of anderline ran through her body.
The silvery white female, tossed her head back. Joining her hopeful triumphant howl with the others of Procupine Rigde. Happy that everything had worked out pretty good for her pack.
Unlike any of the other Ridge wolves, Diane had retracted and moped during what had remained of the previous day, the night before, and early that next morning. Spending time with Novak had eased her out of her isolated confusion, and it was a good thing because no sooner had she left his company, Taggarik howled for the entire Porcupine company to join him.
Diane arrived slowly, not on purpose but because her limp had worsened. Remaining so still overnight had not been an aid to her injury, and crossing the territory thereafter didn't make it feel any better. She was dismayed to realize where she had been called to, not particularly keen on returning to the area where she had received aforementioned injury, but she was relieved slightly as they went beyond that place and began traveling the Thunder Dome, a previously untouchable landscape.
She did not let her limp effect her movements with the pack. In fact, she kept pace with the anxious and still slightly fuming Taggarik, her eye continuously drawn to his wounded shoulder. She wanted to tend to him (he obviously hadn't done a single thing to it all night), but she was afraid to be so forward with him. As the group came to a stop, and their Alpha felt satisfied with the absence of the previous tenants, he led them into a victorious howl.
Diane looked around, briefly watching the Beta male on his perch, before adding her singsong voice to the chorus.
Anwyl marched along with his pack, proud of their accomplishments. He hadn't been a part of the battle like... whatsoever, but he still marked borders and hunted and contributed and felt like their win was also his own. He hoped Jhala would come along too. Then again, he always wanted Jhala along. The beta female and him had great fun together, and he thought maybe soon he could even ask her to be his girlfriend. Who knew what the future could hold for the two teenagers, and that was all besides the point. Right now was time to celebrate a victory for the Ridge pack wolves.
The territory seemed kind of empty, and it almost made Anwyl a little sad. Had it really been necessary to chase them away? It reminded him of his old home, but reversed. Now he was in the pack who pushed others away. But this was different. This Ryujin pack had no business forming right at the ridge pack's doorstep. They should've been smarter. He sighed, secretly hoping that they would find a new home for themselves. But now was a time to celebrate. He was on the winning side, with his new friends and family. And it felt great.
He paused when the others howled, standing in the cold snow. Their cold snow now. He howled along with them, joyous but with warning. This land was theirs.
Jhala arrived excitedly, her tail wagging with triumph. She hadn't done much to help, if anything really, but she assumed her alphas understood her reasoning... she hoped, if anything. She saw Anwyl, but hesitated in joining him- not wanting to seem too clingy. Instead she padded over to him and gave his cheek a quick lick before joining in beside Diane, not touching the girl out of respect for her personal space, but giving a yip of greeting instead. With that, she held her head back and began to howl with her pack, a strange type of family, her heart swelling with pride that their wolves could do something so huge.
She had never seen Taggarik hold such anger – it quaked from his very being, and the she-wolf had not dared draw closer to him, despite having been the one to shoulder the rage for the past few weeks at the Ridge. She had slipped away from the others after the battle – after reassuring herself that her fellow pack mates were more or less fine. She had spent the night with
@Terich-mir – exhausted, emotionally drained.
She had not strayed from his side yet, though her frosted eyes would drift over to study Taggarik as he led them to the thunder dome. The previous pack lands had been abandoned – and she felt a surge of bitter satisfaction. Asterr had only had to place her borders a length a ways from theirs, and she had stubbornly refused – the Ridge might have been triumphant, but it had indeed come at a cost.. her own muzzle and cheek stung with that reminder.
Taggarik’s howl resonated within her soul, and tipping her own muzzle up, her song echoed his – the wolves sang in a chorus together – a reminder to any that dared try to set up shop upon their doorstep. Never again.
As her own howl faded, Capri brushed her muzzle tenderly to Terich’s shoulder, but then made her way to the side of the swarthy Alpha. Her eyes drifted over his wound, worry clouding her gaze as her eyes softened upon him. Eliciting a crooning growl, the regal she-wolf brushed her muzzle beneath his, inhaling sharply at the first contact since their fight. Had anything more serious happened during the fight, Capri would have never forgiven herself for clinging to her anger at him for so long.
Wrapping this up; feel free to post again if you wish but it is not required. I will archive this in a couple days time.
His pack joined in his howl, but they were a couple voices short, and the missing bodies did not go unnoticed by the black wolf. The howl died off, the day was quiet and still. His alpha female, finally seeming to be over her fury with him, approached and slid her muzzle beneath his own. The tension that had seized his muscles let go briefly, and he nuzzled between her soft ears. Then with a woof, he turned and lead his wolves back to the ridge.