Wolf RPG

Leaving so soon and so often hurt, especially when every cell in his being wanted to be nowhere but standing next to his little family and watching them discover more of the world each day.  

But seeing Osprey's body thin out hurt worse, and he knew she understood his absence.  There was little to no food in the pack claim, so he continued to spread outward, long trips hunting to return (sometimes successful, sometimes not) and then set out once more.  He kept to the coastal regions at least, unable to bring himself to spend more than a few days away at most.  

There was no big game; the herds had disappeared.  But small could still occasionally be found or scavenged, thankfully.  When he got lucky.  And today, it seemed, he had.

He didn't know what had killed the weasel, and while its lean corpse didn't hold much by way of sustenance, Dante practically leapt on it in eagerness.  Grasping it, he felt temptation rise to dig in and eat it right here.  But this food was for his family, and to them it would go.  He could share in later or find another.

Warily he looked around, then turned to circle back, paws sinking slightly in the murky ground.  This wasn't an area he knew well, and suddenly he was on edge.  He couldn't lose this prize.

He trudged along through unknown land, having no memory of the place beyond his cubhood, and soon became lost to it. The world was so different without the greenery to blanket every inch. Familiar slopes of the mountain and the valley had been mutated by this absence, and though Mortar did not think too hard upon it, he knew he was unhappy. The more he wandered the more he wished for the company of his kin; even Brick would have been a welcome reprieve from the nothingness of their once beautiful home. But the bear could find no others. He assumed they slept, that he had woken too early perhaps, and now struggled to keep himself fed.

When his path crossed beyond what was known, when he found himself upon the twisting landscape beyond the empty forests, he stopped. The sea had never interested him because he never knew it existed, but the scent of it lured him. He raised his big head and sniffed at the salty air, tasting it beyond the oddness of the slough, and that was when he noticed the dry scent of wolf among it. With a piggish grunt the bear turned his attention to his immediate surroundings and began to lurch along the edge of the slough, eager to find the hound. He was curious - would this beast have found something tasty, or would he be the meal himself?

When the first shufflings of another creature came through, immediately it was apparent the size was too great for another wolf.  Dante's ears pricked forward hopefully... perhaps it was large prey that came.  Maybe it was starved, weak... He wasn't sure he could resist attempting even if it were otherwise.  Was the risk worth it?

It wasn't until the bear came in view that Dante saw it for what it was, and his head ducked immediately, fur rising.  Perhaps the large predator would ignore him and move on.  He watched it warily, ready to flee if necessary.  It was close but hopefully his own speed would be enough.  Even at his best a fight would not go in his favor.  He couldn't dream attempting to face off against it in the shape he was in now.

He caught sight of the wolf, and let out a grunt before changing his course to head straight for his intended meal. His heavy frame made his enormous paws sink into the muddy ground, and it took some force to pull them out to make the next step. He huffed, aggravated he could not move faster to get to the wolf, but he did not give up. He wondered if the wolf would run, hoping if it did that it would go onto dry land. 

He wasn't that long after rising from hibernation, and the barren lands offered little to nothing in the form of food for the testy bear. His body, as large as it was, should have been holding much more muscle and fat than it did. Mortar intended to remedy that with a meal.

Dante did not wish to run immediately, hoping the large predator would not notice him.  A little detail that he forgot, however... If he had been unable to scent the bear, that meant the wind was against him and for the other.  In trying times, there was no other outcome.

Dante was lighter, though the ground still did not offer great running purchase, so when he turned to run he floundered a bit on paws that had sunk in.

He would run, but normal speed would be unreachable.  If the bear sprinted, he knew he would be caught... He'd been traveling for days with no food and little rest. He could only hope he was able to get away once he got to firmer ground.

Luck seemed to be on his side as the wolf seemed to freeze instead of running. It only spurred the beast on more, and he worked harder to move his massive paws through the thick, wet soil. His eyes were deadset on the wolf, the rest of the world of no importance to the bear. He had one thing on his mind, and in his vision, he had already killed the wolf and was eating it. Now he just needed to make that a fact. 

Eventually, his meal seemed to come to his senses and tried to turn and run, but stumbled. It fueled the bear on, not intent on letting this creature go. With one hard push of his back legs, he threw himself at the wolf in a desperate attempt to catch him. He would have landed over the wolf, but his right front paw had no traction. It slipped, and the bear went down on his side, sliding through the thick mud. He growled, swiping at the wolf with his large claws. If he could just get a grasp on him...

Shit shit shit.  He was lucky the bear was having as many issues as he was, because if not, he'd be in even bigger trouble right now. The wipeout prevented him from being directly engaged, but the bear's claws met their mark in his hindquarters as it slid.  He faltered yet again, and this time knew he needed t stall or distract if he wanted to make it out of this.

He was at least more agile than the large creature, though the new gashes would make the playing field more even.  He whirled, stepping gingerly on that hip, and snarled, backing up.  He still had his find firmly lodged in his jaws, and he knew he had two options here - fight for the food or get the f- out of dodge.

His family needed this food, but they also needed him.  It was a quick decision.  Almost immediately he threw the dead ferret right in the bear's face and whirled, taking off once more with a quick, uneven gait.  Would it take the easy kill, or continue for the larger prize?

His claws scraped against the wolf's hind end, but he couldn't get a grip. He swayed his body back and forth, attempting to right himself. The wolf snarled and backed away, and it only made his determination to get up that much more. He finally got his legs under him and hefted his body up. 

Suddenly, something slapped him in the face. He was momentarily stunned, his head whipping back. His eyes searched for the wolf again, but he was running around. Suddenly, his nose caught the scent of the dead ferret, and he looked down. He grabbed it quickly, chomping on it, ripping it apart, and swallowing the chunks until there was no more. 

That went better than he expected. At least his hunger would be sated for a short while. With a satisfied chuffed, the bear made his way out of the muddy soil. Onward to find more food.

It burned him to leave his family's dinner to the burly creature, but what choice did he have?  His leg twinged as he ran, the clawmarks stretching with each stride, but the shallow wound would heal and not slow him down much.  Imagine what would have occurred had he turned to fight?

Somehow that failed to comfort him too much as he ran towards the forest of Donnelaith, looking to return yet again with nothing to show.  He would scavange the beach shore as he went, hoping to turn out something, but luck so rarely struck twice in one day.