Wolf RPG

Things were settling together nicely. He had a place to sleep, he had high esteem within the pack - at least from his perspective - and soon Lazarus would make that final push towards that which he coveted most: the dark woman. He had successfully proven his might to the young Beta, even met the reigning king upon the mountain (whom he had a low opinion of by virtue of his rank and age), and Lazarus now spent his time pacing before his den. He was antsy, eager, and in need of a good expulsion of energy. Perhaps he should have begun courting the woman Ame by now? It was a decent time to start, yet Lazarus held off on his desires; she would not be appeased by a mere Beta (especially if it was all in his own head). He would need to do much more than that to be worthy of her. The beast turned on his heel and marched along the ridge, then turned again and moved in another direction, either unsure of his position on the hillside or too energized to care about where he went. Behind him his tail was raised and flagged with pride, his posture showcasing to all that he was indeed mighty. Then, as if out of nowhere, he called out with a bestial summons to anyone within earshot, canting his head back in order to issue a challenge to anyone eager to test their mettle against the man.

Harley was already heading in the direction of Lazarus when the white male called out. It was clearly a challenge, but Harley wasn't much of a fighter.... And that was the only reason the milky male continued forward. Maybe this male could teach him a thing or two? He'd wanted to live as a wolf, right? The wolfdog didn't recognize the sound of Lazarus, having never met him, but his scent was familiar from other parts of the mountain. That told him he was a Moonspear wolf, but nothing more. 
He eventually came into view of the white male, back frosted with both sand and ebony. Harley let out a friendly chuff of greeting, tail wagging ever so slightly.

When he heard no response, the beast began to pace. He watched the trees and strained to study the slopes, wondering if there were any worthy adversaries in this place; perhaps they were all busy, or a pack hunt was taking place. As he was not a hunter Lazarus did not know what to expect from such a vocation; he was agitated by the calm of the mountain today, and eager to get his blood pumping.

And finally, a beast emerged. It was a smaller creature that looked less wolf and more something else, but Lazarus cared little about the origins of his opponents. He cared about their blood only when he tasted it. Yet as the stranger approached and Lazarus was given his first chance to investigate them, he saw nothing in the other wolf-thing which made him want to fight. They were small and unfit for battle, with strange curves and hardly any muscle. At best this wolf might be quick on his feet, but nothing more — or so Lazarus' initial study told him.

He grunted lowly, and then looked beyond the boy in the manner of a bouncer at a club searching for someone of higher calibur to allow entry.

Scorp had wandered around the pack territory for a little while, making himself familiar with the area. He heard a bellow from a wolf, challenging others to a fight. Scorp thought that this might be a good way to prove himself to the pack, so he followed his ears to the howl.
To his surprise, it was the wolf that greeted him at the border when he first joined. What was his name again? Scorp couldn't remember. He watched as another member of the pack stepped out and greeted the border wolf.

Harley stopped a few feet away, ears wilting back and feathery tail halting high mid-wave. He made no move to lower or even move it, and a confused frown set upon his face. His tone was far from challenging, but the hybrid felt his muscles tense beneath his thick pelt.
        "You call for someone and ignore the one that comes?"
His amber eyes turned to the other wolf, the one he hadn't scented. The grey male was fairly neutral for now, but he hoped there wouldn't be a change in that should something go sour with Lazarus. Speaking of, he turned his eyes back to the pale challenger to await a reaction. 

A second wolf arrived and this one Lazarus seized upon with his gaze, recognizing him as the stranger who bade to enter the lands. Clearly Amekaze saw him fit to run with them. To the white beast, this just meant he had yet another contender for her attentions; another name to scratch off a list.

But that would come later. For now, the almost-wolf was speaking, and this detracted from Lazarus' concentration. He stopped studying the grizzled beast who had arrived and focused once more upon the nimble-bodied creature, snuffling softly from his nose with an incredulous sound. Then, his deep voice rolled, I call for a challenge. You are a child. Or that is how he appeared to Lazarus, speaking with impunity.

Harley held down his anger and awaited the strangers words, but it seemed none was coming. The wolfdog couldn't help the growl rumbling deep in his chest, but it didn't fall from his lips. A child, was he? Even the milky male had to admit, he was considerably smaller than all the wolves here, but he knew there was some basic fighting skill somewhere. the wish to fight, however, was not. Only the will to learn, even if it meant swallowing pride.
      "Youths are meant to be taught."
He fixed Lazarus with a calm, steady amber gaze. From here, they could develop some bond and become, possibly, friends, or the brute could turn him down. Hopefully, the former. The red-tipped male had no real friends, and was getting very lonely. Would he stay on the mountain if he couldn't get along with the wolves here?

Scorp watched in amusement as the young wolfdog stood up for himself. He himself had no wish to fight the much bigger wolf, but would have loved to see a fight. He knew the white male was very territorial when it came to borders, as he had been the one who met Scorp at the border, and Scorp had known that he would not be pleased about it.
As for the wolfdog, Scorp knew nothing of him, except for the fact that he was in Moonspear. He seemed a bit small, but Scorp knew size wasn't everything. He had once known a puppy with the biggest courage. Maybe the wolfdog just wanted to be strong or something. Scorp didn't know, but it was amusing to watch.

The beast snorted deeply, a sly grin spreading across half his face in a lopsided display of amusement, if one could call it that. There was the small creature murmuring something about tutelage which was hardly his purpose, least of all the purpose of his summons. Without another word he turned away from the smaller canine and focused on the gray man who had arrived - the stranger from the border. He would be good enough. He had been good enough for Amekaze, so he would be suitable enough.

You - Scorp, Lazarus called out, and then stepped with an odd precision towards the grizzled newcomber. Come, test your mettle with me. Perhaps by watching the smaller wolf would learn some things, but at this point it was of no concern to Lazarus. He only cared to showcase his own prowess. Having stated this he lowered his head to protect his throat, and squared his broad shoulders, wondering if the newcomer would take the challenge or hang back.

Harley's anger bubbled over in a feral snarl, and his sharp amber eyes burned. He would not be ignored, no, and he would not be mocked. The final straw was Lazarus turning his back on him, and challenging the silent charcoal male. Scorp, he called him. Nothing against him, but Harley didn't intend on letting the pale man just ignore him.
   "No!"
The wolfdog howled his own challenge, the only warning Lazarus go before the milky shephard was springing for his back. Such a forward attack, or any attack at all against this far more experienced male, was certainly foolish. Harley wasn't thinking past his rage, letting instinct drive his paws. Hopefully, he would be able to defend himself well enough to not get hurt by the larger purebred, maybe get a hit or two of his own in.

Scorp wasn't sure he was ready to fight the wolf, but he stepped forward when he said his name, albeit with a limp. He had expected to be challenged if he appeared, but he thought that the wolf would be distracted by the smaller wolfdog. Scorp was especially surprised when the wolfdog charged the border wolf.
Scorp didn't know what would happen. Who would win? The wolfdog had the element of surprise, but the border wolf had size. Scorp watched, curious about what would happen. He was partly glad not to fight, as he was not the fighting type.

The newcomer did not seem keen to fight, and Lazarus wondered then why he had shown up at all. His summons had been for a proper sparring partner, not a child, not a coward - yet he was faced with both. He squared off towards Scorp and dismissed the other, the smaller wolf, and was abruptly overwhelmed when the small thing came rushing at him. Evidently Lazarus' dismissal had been ignored; he turned sharply, hoping to react before the creature could do any real damage - and he was obnoxious, believing himself faster, stronger, entirely more capable than the other wolf.

But the nimble creature reached out, and Lazarus was unable to move fast enough. He felt something collide with his pale shoulder and barked a sharp sound, his back arching slightly with the impact, and he wheeled around to face Harley with the intent on grabbing at his scruff - but he only snapped at air. Infuriated by this sneak-attack (more because of the abrupt nature of it, the unexpectedness, than anything else), Lazarus' attempt failed and he gripped at nothing, loosing a frustrated rumble as he squared his body off towards the faster wolf.

Victory flows through Harley's veins as his first hit is successful, making sure its a good one. Taking a surprise had given the milky male a strong start, and Lazarus both failed to defend and retaliate. 
The wolf hybrid was quick to lash out again, attacking with another viscious hit. Unfortuantley, he misses this one:and is only just able to dodge the next attack. His shoulder is a litte of his upper right shoulder. He swipes at The white males face in blind rage, missing completely. The pure blood rushes him, and again Harley only just dodges the onslaught. Using the momentum and pushing off on his paws, he lunges forward and unbalances the other male. He comes back twofold, however, tearing into Harley's other shoulder. 
At this point, the wolfdog was hurting, torn up and bloody. The outcome is still unsure, but Harley goes in for an attack towards face and chest, aiming to unbalance and maybe flip him off his paws. 
Alas, he misses, and Lazarus darts around him. Harley senses the finishing attack and, knowing its now or never, tries to bolt out of the way. He's too slow, however, thanks to the damage done, and Lazarus pins him successfully. In a last attempt and final burst of energy, he snaps at his captors face.

He fails to defend himself from the initial blow and he is agitated. 

The white beast throws himself at Harley with the intent of grabbing his scruff and pulling him down to the ground. He is mindful of his opponent's teeth, but also clouded by his rage. His own teeth meet the dense fur of Harley's shoulder and, briefly, he is able to grab at something. 

Lazarus managed to tear out a chunk of fur, but it does not satisfy him. The smaller wolf is quick but not quick enough to counter-attack, so there is no need to defend, and Lazarus goes all-in with his next assault, thrusting his bulk towards the smaller wolf with the hope of connecting and bowling him over.

Despite his great size and strength, he cannot seem to bowl the small wolf over; perhaps because he is so low to the ground. Naturally his smaller size would be a boon in this situation. Yet because Lazarus is so close and he lacks defenses, the other wolf counters smartly. Lazarus stumbles back, but retaliates a moment later with renewed vigor, too angry to think clearly. Forgetting that spars were not meant to draw blood, Lazarus goes straight for the boy and is intent on sinking his teeth in to flesh.

He is silently impressed by the speed of the smaller wolf, but it ultimately more enthusiastic as he watches him blunder, and Lazarus sets himself up for the end of the spar. He spits a small chunk of bloodied flesh and fur from his lips, steps towards and around the other wolf, then dives in for another attack, keen on grabbing and pushing the boy down in to the dirt as an act of dominance. A finishing move.

The pale man is glad when he grabs hold of the smaller wolf, pinching his scruff with his teeth, and looses a rumble from his chest to signal his own pride in victory. He holds the boy against the dirt for a little longer than he perhaps should, and when he releases him, his tail raises as a pale banner over his hindquarters.

Without a word to his opponent, Lazarus releases him and looms overhead, a boastful grin splitting his face. He then turns to look at @Scorp, wondering if this other wolf is impressed by the action of their spasmodic little fight, or frightened by it. Lazarus' blood is pumping and he is eager for more. He licks a faint redness from his lips, but does not know whose blood it is.

Harley snapped and snarled at the pale mans face with the rest of his strength, but it was clear the fight was over. Falling limp and trusting that the packmate will not kill him, the wolfdog has no other options but to wait to be released.
He is, of course, after a moment, and Lazarus is quick to boast, towering over him. Jaws snap in his direction, but there is no real aggression around it. Points had been made, no need to rub it in further. He barely thinks before his lithe paws are carrying him away, further up the mountainside and out of site. This wouldn't be the last time they fought, of that the male was sure, but it was not in a mean way. It was in a 'I'm going to get better and prove myself' way. 

Scorp was amused with the fight, but when the boy left, he knew that the pale man would want to come spar with him next. Scorp was not a fighter, which he usually told everyone. He prefered hunting, but there wasn't a lot of hunting to do anymore. Not since those bugs came.

Scorp wondered if he should prepare himself to fight, or if he should just limp away like he normally did. He decided on staying there, but not in a fighting pose. That way, Scorp thought, the man wouldn't think he wanted to fight.

With one wolf bested, Lazarus turned his attention to the other. Maybe it should have interested him to see the way Scorp avoided him; it should have been a boost to his ego. But instead, as the other wolf stayed back with the intent of avoiding a spar, Lazarus found himself infuriated. He was riled by his win, feeling pained by the damage caused by his first opponent, and eager for more - but without someone to fight, he could only contain his aggressive energies for later use. He snorted dully, baring his teeth a moment later, and advanced upon Scorp as if to harm him - but he only smacked him with a shoulder to push him aside, and boorishly moved on. If he could not fight anyone here, he would find some other way to entertain himself. Without another word, he departed - leaving Scorp to do as he pleased.