This is for anyone :) please note lecter is not over the borders, he's just a few paces away from them. <3
With the recent cougar attack that had occurred within the confines of the Creek, Lecter had drawn himself from seclusion and organized his days around small forages for plants to stock his healing larder. While he chunnered to himself that this was Clarice's work, she was undoubtedly caught up by her Loa, and unable to tend the injured among the pack as he could.
And so he had stepped grudgingly into the role. Small puddles of water near his densite held sweet violet to soak; the cold tea from the roots and blooms would form a gentle pain reliever for those who had never taken a draught of poppy before.
For now, the witch had ranged past his homeland into the sunken maw of a verdant vale. It was inhabited, of course, and he paid careful heed to the marked borders, bloodstained hackles bristling.
A soft chuff of pleasure escaped him as his gaze behold that for which he had come: a dewy patch of fresh shade a few meters from the scented recesses of the Vale. Casting an appraising glance about himself, Lecter fell to plundering the sage almost joyously; it would be most beneficial to those at the Creek who needed it.
i just about glossed over this haha, u sneaky. hope u dont mind this, if its not cool just lemme know and i can change it!!
The intrusion by the Creek wolves was ebbing away in its recentness; days had passed since then, a week possibly; Raheerah was no expert at tracking time, only noting it in its current state. As it was, the day was at its peak. For a day among the early spring, Raheerah felt it was particularly hot, although that may have been attributed to the thick and dark coat the dragon sported. It was shaggy, but it was not dirty; he had received the aid of a packmate in cleaning it only the day before, and it had yet to accrue the vile stench that normally accompanied the greasy creature.
As per usual, the dragon was monitoring the edges of his home. He frequented these trails, and he could walk them with his single eye closed, or so he believed; he could maneuver the paths through scent alone, knowing where he had placed his markers in relation to others, and knowing when they needed to be renewed. Apparently, there was a particular few that were in need of revisiting, for within their vicinity he could detect another scent. A scent that, in its essence, was acrid and unwanted. It was the scent of the Creek and, almost immediately, it spurned an anger so primitive that Raheerah needn't wait for an explanation.
The ghost-like visitor had not crossed over the Vale's boundaries, but in the dragon's mind it was no reason to relent. Without warning nor hesitation he burst forward and lunged for the male, aiming to wrap his jaws around the back of his neck - hoping that he could catch the male off guard in his act of plucking herbs from the earth. If he was successful, it was his goal to toss the male aside and assault him further, but if he failed, Raheerah would spare no energy attempting to lock his jaws on some part of the Creek wolf.
hai bby no it was fine <33
Had Lecter been more involved in his plucking of the sage, perhaps he would have not seen the huge, brazen beast bearing down upon him with savage jaws stretched. As it was, only his peripheral vision saved him, initiating his painful spin away from his attacker. He was not spared; the wolf's teeth closed dangerously around his shoulder, fangs slashing in to strike bone.
Ironically, a mouthful of sage was still clutched in the old witch's jaws; he spat them out as a choked cry of agony broke from him. Lecter could not hope to engage the other in battle — he was outmatched, both in terms of age and strength — but the pale ears swept back against his skull and yellowed teeth darted toward his own shoulder; he craned with a snarl toward his attacker's face, intending to slash the muzzle, the jaw, any part of the other that would purchase him time to escape.
thanks for the thread u hottie
“”
The great beast did not pursue; he halted, breath unfurling in a growl toward Lecter. The shaman flashed his own yellowed fangs, but he whirled as the Vale wolf lunged in a last warning, teeth clicking on empty air with the promise of injury.
Far from ashamed, the pale wolf fled his would-be killer, fervent prayers rising to Sos in thanks that he should be spared another day. Indeed, by the time that he was out of eyeshot of the other, only a brief irritation scoured his gut, and it was simply because he had failed to take any of the sage with him.
Lecter returned to the Creek at dusk, a limp gilding his step, and retired immediately to his dusty hollow, to live till another morning as granted by his god.
Silently he allowed her to carry on with her cleaning, grooming the male's fresh wounds and easing the blood from his skin and gashes. He would allow it to bleed further until it scabbed and eventually healed, but the sensation of her tongue was soothing. It briefly reminded him of when he'd been tended to in Jokhang. It was a time before the catastrophe, before his imprisonment; it was a moment when a cleric had come to the frontlines. The cleric traveled with them in order to tend to them without bringing them back to the heart of the territory. Then, he was still blind to the injustice of his home. The cleric had a gentle touch - but she too had been worn down by war. He could still remember her face.
His attention returned to the woman as she pulled away, further craving her attention. But she swooped down and grabbed the sage instead, turning to head back into the Vale. Raheerah stared at her, as Xi'nuata gazed back at him. But he could not follow her. The herb in her jaw served as a reminder, the reason for the trespasser. The dragon uttered a guttural, gruff grunt and charged away from her, intent on uprooting every damn plant he could find.
(Exit Raheerah to continue patroling the borders)