Wolf RPG

Set somewhere beyond the mountain closer to the Vale

Yet again Tuwawi's hunt proved to be fruitless, having tracked a stray yearling elk beyond Swiftucurrent's boundaries only to find the trail ran stale. She huffed discontentedly, unwilling to return home with little to show for her efforts. A plump hare would sate her needs, but even this was small fare compared to what she could accomplish. At that moment the pungent scent of blood wafted from upwind, and drew the red creature close, enticed by its aroma.

As she crested a small hill, it became apparent what had befallen the unfortunate elk. It laid there, gutted and open with the majority of its flesh stripped. Its curved ribs stuck up from the ground like prying fingers, still laced in plenty of leftovers. Perhaps a bear or cougar had gotten to him first... but luckily for Tuwawi they had left behind a generous amount to feast upon. She approached the carrion, as scavenging was a well utilized skill of their breed, hungry to fill her belly and bring back as much as she could carry to Njal.

Her robust figure straddled the carcass ravenously as she gorged herself with large bites, preening the bones clean to savor some untouched gems along the haunch. Yet her actions were not without caution, as the border of the Vale loomed close by; however Tuwawi considered herself in the clear. Keen silver eyes watched the treeline as she supped, considering no part of the animal unworthy of her attentions.

OOc: Takes place before the NSV pack event

She could feel it. By all that was good within nature, she could feel the cusp of spring as she did the slight bound in her step. It came excitably, if not also rhythmically to her stride as she perused the borders with both care and calm, having grown used to the scents of a border well marked. She was quite confident that the increased efforts of the warriors had borne the fruit of an even safer haven, by which she could walk its rock laden contours with the springtime mirth. The wolf did not smile, for there were none to receive it, but there was an air of content that followed her fragranced trail. Spring had done its work too to heighten the wiles that drenched her. A calling, no doubt, to the wary nares that sought the readiness of the season’s bounty. And while her mind was not on the prospects of pups, that did not keep her body from raising its signal. Perhaps this was another cause for the bounce in her usually heavy stride; knowing that the prospects of being endowed with life were not beyond even her.

And as any female might have, she had an idea in mind (well planted by a certain white wolf among their ranks) of whom she wished to share those prospects with. Provided his mind was not completely adverse to the idea. As a creature that had once been made to lie and wait to receive, she hadn’t the slightest inkling of where to start to garner another’s attention. At least with purpose. She had a mind to directly speak to him, but in her heart she felt it was a lacking gesture. A hearty meal might have sufficed. Something special; a carcass that warranted both acknowledgement and praise to the exposition of her skill.

Pondering on this, the tan wolf walked the familiar paths of the mountains, seeking the more floral routes that snaked in and out of the shelter of its base. It was only near the exterior of borders that her nose was assaulted by blood. The pungent stench of stale blood akin to fodder than wolf rising above the pines of the treeline. It had crossed her mind to leave it be and carry on, hoping that perhaps a scavenging fowl would pluck the carcass, yet unseen, clean. But in doing so was the risk that larger predators might find the meat attractive, and in the worst instance grow bold and seek to infiltrate the whole of the Vale. She could not allow that risk to go unacknowledged.

Slipping from her personal thoughts, she assumed the role of duty and made a direct line for the carcass by its scent. It did not take long to reach the edge of the territory, but what was found within sight, but a few meters from the brink, was a sight that both disgusted and disturbed her. She recognized the red ridge wolf as part of the Creek; the very female that named herself ‘wife’ of her mentor. And there was indeed a carcass, well prodded beforehand as seen by the state of its wounds, but certainly with enough meat to supply others. It was not the sight of the gaping animal that raised the she-wolf’s hackles to stand on end. Nor was it the stench that pulled her lips back with a horrid snarl. It was the sight of a wolf feeding so close to claimed borders. The determination, she could only compare to the same vigor seen by Haunter in her company. One would have thought the Creek wolves were starved things by this pattern. Yet she offered no sympathy to the thought. Rather her maw parted as the warning of proximity rattled free, growing with each breath til it mirrored the known grumble of her faction lead. She spared no words, but offered the sound of anger in their place. She gave but one bark to dismiss, surrender the carrion and leave while the opportunity was still afforded to the brilliant flame.

As she lowered her head to rest between her shoulders, and her body hunched forward in the ready for assault, she made it clear that there would not be a second warning.

Sorry for my delay! work is cray

No amount of flesh escaped Tuwawi's scrutiny as she gleaned the elk's broken body, devouring membrane, skin, and fat alike. Already the most succulent bits had been consumed, but it didn't dissuade Swiftcurrent's epsilon from enjoying her meal by any means. Like the rest of her familiar, she could be considered a professional when it came to leeching every last bit of nutrition from the prey she ate — finding value even in the bone. Hardly any other animal in the valley could lay claim to such an economical way of survival, save perhaps the ravens.

Blood matted Tuwawi's bib and painted her muzzle with viscous ruby brushstrokes, unabashed. She ate not only for herself, but for Njal as well — who remained confined to their den to nurse his aggravated injury. She thought of him as she supped, mulling about how to best attend his wound; however, a rippling bay from the trees pulled the ember from her reverie. Adjacent stood a mountainous creature, one she recognized from a few days past. A woman by the name of Xi'Nuata, who's first impression had been marred by their initial tempestuous interaction. Already her jaws laid agape, a menacing display aimed directly towards Tuwawi instructing her to cease.

A hot rush of anger flooded the scarlet woman as her tattered lips peeled back over their icy fangs, lips pursed with aggression. She had tracked this elk for miles, and an empty threat from a wolf of the Vale could not cause her to shrink away... not now. A single, fearless paw planted itself upon the carrion. Mine, it screamed as a low growl rumbled from her chest like thunder. Tuwawi's ears pressed forward, body hunched savagely, while her banner flew high, indignant. Smokey eyes could only narrow as she shot a disapproving look to the other woman, expression harrowing. Yet, her body amused a lofty posture, coiled like a spring, knowing full well her smaller self would only be steamrolled should she decide to defend her purchase. There were many strategies to this game, and Xi'Nuata wasn't the only wolf Njal had taught to fight.

Once more, she was faced with the stubbornness of the Creek. Thrice now and angered in one form or another. Each time, she felt her faith in the creek-dwellers slipping. What hope that was fostered between herself and Njal dissolved a little more by the corrosive displays. She was growing tired… so very tired of these hostilities, even if it was by her own maw this instance was borne. But such was becoming the normal state of things. And as the woman was raised to; she was gradually adapting to it.

Darkened lids narrowed over their bi-colored treasures, defending them upon the inevitable reach of aggression. Yet still they watched as an ember paw fixed itself upon the carcass- the same dreaded possession that had taken the dark male. This sight gave her no hope, and thus she relinquished all sense of caring and sympathy. If they were to fight over desiccated flesh, so be it.

Her paws were heavy and as sound as thunder preceding a storm. Yet her roll from the border ceased just shy of both the female and the coveted meat. She offered but a moment of reconsideration, then boldly advanced brandishing the impressive bulk by her guarded shoulders rolled forward. Her lips stretched further back as her gaping maw snapped the air between them, a promise of pain as the quaking frame surged purposefully towards both Creek wolf and slain meat. And again she snapped violently the hair’s breadth between them, this time with the intention of grabbing the scarred muzzle.

wearily drags self in from the longest 2 weeks of her life...

Hot breath pillowed betwixt Tuwawi's pointed enamels while she studied her assailant's bulky figure as it catapulted into a juggernaut approach. Yet, even with this display, the creek soldier did not balk. No worldly force could make her step aside and give up what, in her opinion, she rightfully owned... especially to this particular aggressor; unaware that Njal had followed Xi'Nuata in an effort to bring peace between the groups. The Vale seemed to a perpetual thorn, not wanting to be removed, and it further fueled the red woman's discord.

Her muscles tensed as the sandy woman drew nearer, anticipating her first attack. Their styles would undoubtedly be different; their bodies nearly opposite in build. Tuwawi would never be able to go for the obvious strike... after all, a smaller wolf never fell its larger quarry by buffering it off balance or biting the shoulder or hind. No — if one aimed to bring down a beast then quick strikes were necessary. Endure it. Cut it. Bleed it out. She would do exactly that, all the while trying to evade the strong limbs of her opponent, lest be smothered beneath a mountainous weight.

When Xi'Nuata hesitated, it provided the perfect opportunity for the Sveijarn to shrink away, like a flickering wick of flame. Not even a prize of red hair would be rewarded to the Vale wolf as her jaws closed upon air with an unsatisfying, empty click of her teeth. At that moment, the scarlet adversary burst forward with a speed enviable by any creature, prepared to parry and give to Xi'Nuata what she so hotly desired, and deserved. A guttural snarl resounded as she lurched back into the fray, biting fangs aimed to shear the supple leather of her nose to ribbons. Hit a sensitive spot. Choke her with her own blood. Tuwawi was a wildling unchained as she launched her counter strike, tendons trained by trying times, cardinal colored hair swept in ever direction. However one thing was for certain; she would not remain in one place for long.

OOC: *Give pillow and hot tea*

There was a notable similarity between the ferocity of this female and the dark male that haunted the Creek, yet it was on a more personal level that their behaviors differed. It could be seen in movement, as well as felt by the lash of fangs against the flesh. The bite of Haunter had been a wound to further discourage her attempt at keeping him from the meat he desired. But that fueled this woman was not only hunger and possessive instinct over the carcass; but a rage she could not place though felt just the same.

Her nostrils burned as the crinkled flesh across the bridge was split by the frenzied bite. But her voice would not hitch with the sharp inhale of pain, rather surged forward in bellow as she exhaled through flaring flesh, spewing newly drawn blood defiantly. Regardless of the pain, she kept forward in her assault clawing at the earth more fervently to gain ground between the two of them. Twisting her muzzle sidelong, she aimed to grasp the upper jaw of her opponent. More a subduing hold than an attempt to cause unnecessary pain. Her will was absent to truly cause harm to another… but her frustration for the scrap was rapidly wearing down her sense of mercy.

=~__~= mmm...
idk how we should decide this outcome? Just keep going at it T1 style or decide it ooc'ly or dice roll? Just want to make sure we are both ok with everything happening :-) *hug*

Xi'Nuata would never understand the powerful want which drove Tuwawi to defend her piece so viciously, unrelenting with every fiber. It was food she had earnestly tracked and hunted for the bedridden Njal. He was so sickly... riddled with chills and hallucinations; and the caches near their den had been depleted. Even prey could only be found few and far in between. And now, so close to delivering her prize, the Vale woman sought to easily drive her off? Like she was a petty scavenger? When they weren't even on Northstar territory? Tuwawi had made it clear that she had claimed this prey for herself, without question, but still Xi'Nuata pushed and pushed. Any chance to backtrack was lost when the satisfactory taste of first blood flushed the creek woman's palate, the desire to champion this foe building with every second spent battling her away. Words were beyond Tuwawi now, giving into more visceral actions to prove her point. Bargaining with an opponent so simple was worthless anyway.

Small garnet gems of blood dotted Tuwawi's cheeks as Xi'Nuata sputtered defiantly, gashes raked across her broad maw from the red antagonist's well-aimed punch. The larger knight surged unyielding, continuing her charge through the attack despite the affliction; but Tuwawi's swift limbs danced away to evade the onslaught, light body working favorably against such a swaggering presence. Xi'Nuata's hefty jaws loomed, regardless, in an attempt to grapple Tuwawi's muzzle, perhaps to force her down. However, still, the smaller woman retained the upper hand when it came to speed. Only a fleeting pressure of teeth to skin was felt before Tuwawi's narrow face slipped from her grasp; a glancing strike at best. Raw strength was useless if Xi'Nuata couldn't land a hit.

As her opponent's second attempt turned fruitless, Tuwawi sought better ways to bleed out and tire the hefty woman. When she recoiled, her heels dug into the dirt. A platform upon which to parry was discovered as she lurched like red lightening back unto the bleeding face of Xi'Nuata. With the vale woman's head twisted away, Tuwawi sought out her vulnerable cheek, just below the ear. Stained jaws laid agape with murderous intent, partnered stormy eyes lucid with purpose. She was hungry. Hungry to keep what was her's. Hungry to prove the resilience of the creek. Hungry to uphold the savage values of Tartok.

As blind fury had not yet consumed her mind, the warden was afforded the sense that came with tact. She had not yet before faced the hatred of another, but certainly the unrelenting rage that came from another’s jaws. Though he was not as dexterous as the lithe female before her, she had none the less been geared toward abating, or at least endure the onslaught of perpetual strike. She was a creature built to endure, and she would. The consequence of pain could be felt upon the conclusion of the scrap.

But what an enduring posture awarded her was the mind, a moment to focus of what was deemed crucial for success. Pride was not a factor, as she had none to protect aside for her place within the Vale, and none of her brethren were near and in danger. Though what kept her surging forward til she felt the stripped hide of the carcass underpaw, as not hunger for the carcass, but protection of the border; the need to drive the woman off and away. And feelings its coarse hair underfoot, she was reminded of this purpose. Though it was difficult to remain wholly in focus when such a rage bore down upon her and quickly.

Never the less she endured, keeping her ears drawn as acute muzzle swung for her cheek, and in turn she swung her own maw sharply in the hopes of striking the broad side against the probing muzzle of glistening fang. But, rather than keep forward, having felt the prize in the midst of the skirmish, she dropped her hind to what she assumed was the flank of the meat. She hadn’t the mountains to improve her agility over the other, but she certainly had the bulk to bar her as was needed.

I'm going to wrap this up because I am the slowest poster ever >__<

No more blood was drawn by fangs, as Tuwawi's harrowing efforts were simply rebuffed by Xi'Nuata's blockaded defense. Her foe swung its broad skull to counter the swift strike aimed at her temple, but sharp click of tooth against tooth resounded and caused the irate fireblood to stumble backwards, a cacophonous ringing between her ears. She snorted defiantly as she steadied herself, phased but prepared to rebound. However, no window of opportunity presented itself.

The Vale wolf sat squarely upon the elk carcass, a block of unmoving muscle mimicking a great mountain boulder. Tuwawi dipped right and then left, moving erratically as she attempted to elicit any motion from the gatekeeper to unearth a weakness. Despite the attempts, the woman remained planted, determined in her cause. Tuwawi's teeth gritted, visibly agitated by such an apathetic response. "Youuuu," she hissed between her teeth, word made enigmatic by its singularity. You take what is not yours to keep. You deprive my mate. she wanted to scream and berate the warden. Yet, Tuwawi, who remained blind to Xi'Nuata's duty, felt her accusation would fall upon deaf and unwanting ears.

Time slipped through her digits. It was precious, and she was running out.

Fruitless and outmatched, the Swiftcurrent woman retreated, turning 'round with a huff to depart from whence she came. Stress pillaged her energy as she attempted to estimate the daylight left. Njal would need to eat soon, and no supper would come from this kill.

Truly, Xi'Nuata was no friend of the creek.

Tuwawi RIP

Xinuata

Tuwawi RIP

Xinuata

Tuwawi RIP

Xinuata

Tuwawi RIP

Xinuata

Tuwawi RIP