Wolf RPG

Something smelled awfully interesting, thought Saena. The craggy hills on the northwestern edge of the quaint vale tucked in the mountains drew her attention first for its features, and second for its smell. It was an old and musty smell, but she drank it deeply off the breeze and stalked through the shrubby foothills, eager to find whatever it was. Her pupils were dilated, and to any who bore witness to her prowl and the natural slink of her body, she was as much an animal as anything else in that moment.

Up she heaved herself through shelves of stone and stands of pines, until at last, she came upon an abandoned bear den. Not far from it was the source of the smell: the long-dead remains of a canid, left out on the hill. Scraps of agouti fur still clung to it in places, but the organs had been stripped away and the muscle decayed. Its shape was mostly intact, though Saena noted that its lower jaw was missing along with most of the small bones of the feet. She examined it with her nose momentarily, then dropped to her belly and rolled over it, relishing the crackle of dried, brittle bones as the musty smell of it washed over her. She would bring this back to Warbone, along with the remnants of bear scent from the den, that he would know some wolf had been killed here and be driven to maintain a vigil.

Vixen had followed Alastor and Zoratto for miles, and had she not backed down she would probably be feeding on a fat buck or a tasty something. Instead, the red female found herself scavenging to survive, following every trail of food she could smell regardless of how rotten it was. And that was how she found Saena, rolling over a foul carcass as though it was mud, and for some reason she seemed to be enjoying the act. "Ye're supposed to eat it," she said, keeping her distance from the feral female, wondering whether there was enough in her to even understand her words.

The she-wolf's ears pricked up when Vixen spoke and she half-twisted over the crumbling bones to gaze at the newcomer. In the span of a second or two, her pale blue eyes roved over the fit body, the restless eyes, and the extraordinary red coat. Saena felt strange and uneasy around wolves with red fur, but she couldn't remember why. She rose slowly to her feet and shook her cream pelt, never once looking away from Vixen.

Only when she was standing at her full height, back rigid with unease and fur puffed just enough to suggest that a threat was unwise, did she look back to the bones on the ground with a soft snort. "Are you in the habit of eating other wolves?" she wondered softly, but her eyes were hard as gem chips as she briefly examined the shape of the squashed skeleton, as if the notion offended her on some level. "There's no meat anyway, but it's all yours if you want it." To her, it was just fur and bone and the dried ooze left behind from where microbes and maggots had chewed through any muscle that remained.

Blue eyes fixed on her, cold like glaciers and it felt through the air. Vixen could tell she'd taken the woman by surprise, and fixed her posture to show there was no threat coming from her. But she did glance back at her with the same curiosity in her eyes, examining the edges of her body, the the red stump on her butt and the hardness upon her face. This was a wolf who'd gone through tough stuff, a fighter.

Her voice, though, seemed to be collected and calm despite her appearance, which Gave Vixen a bit of tranquility. "I don't think he'll mind if I take a bite or a pair," she spoke back, daring to step a bit closer. "Are ye in th' habit 'o bathin' on other wolves?, she asked back, truly curious about the reason behind the peculiar game. But she hadn't gotten a good look at the carcass, and the scent it emanated was deceiving. The other was kind enough to point it out, offering her the remains despite it's lack of edible parts. Vixen walked closer, then, hoping it would be welcomed by the other, to take a closer look at the bones."Ye know? Now that I think 'bout it I'll let th' laddie rest in peace... Or pieces" she snorted, seeing for herself that it would be a waste of time and energy to even try to get anything from that, not to mention risking getting food-poisoned. "Are ye a loner, girl?" she asked amiably. If they were in similar conditions going side by side would improve their luck at getting food... That, of course, if the other was even into eating at all.

As the red-haired woman drew nearer, Saena pressed back, giving Vixen the room she needed to investigate the remains of whatever wolf had died here. Vixen's words drew a bit of a smirk on Saena's lips, but the sentiment didn't touch her eyes, which were buried under a layer of sorrow and fresh pain from her daughters' rejection. Her head pulled back slightly on her neck in anticipation of witnessing one wolf eat the bones of another, but then Vixen dismissed it, and she relaxed marginally. "Never carried a scent back to someone before?" she assumed, but then, that probably wasn't far off. Most sophisticated wolves than what Saena was becoming likely saw the act as dirty and uncouth.

The woman's question was a surprise, but she supposed it shouldn't be. There were a great many loners in these parts. Saena saw them sometimes, coming and going about their business, but she never deigned to approach them herself. There was only one wolf she would approach directly, for the time being, and he was not present. "A leader," she amended, allowing her shoulders to stiffen slightly with the formality of a title she only loosely held at the moment. "But my allegiance has recently changed, so for now, alone, more or less. Are you?"

The putrid scent reminded her of Tortuga, a place often impregnated with the smell of death and decay. There weren't many things Vixen missed from that place and this was definitely not one of them, but in a way it did remind her that for as much as she tried she couldn't get completely rid of her way of life. Vixen would always remain what Tortuga had made of her, and there would always exist a thirst for wild experiences.

There wasn't a response from Vixen's lips to Saena's rhetorical question. She could assume whatever she wanted, but Vixen did not fully understand the necessity of rolling on death and rotten blood. It wasn't her business however, mountain wolves ought to have different methods, so she didn't comment on it any further.

It did surprise her what Saena revealed next. A leader, she claimed to be, but then she admitted that she was alone. "A lonesome leader?" A riddle, perhaps? How could one be a leader and have no followers? But then she remembered. "Who be ye carryin' th' scent to, then?" she asked, picking up on the little clues. "Aye, bin alone fer a while now," she admitted, "but I was hopin' to turn that 'round" she added, smirking suggestively.

"Once a leader, always a leader. Been doing it since I was a year old," she informed her companion. At least, that was Saena's way of thinking. Many wolves adapted to their situations and did what was necessary to survive, including submitting willingly in spite of their past positions. Saena would do that, too, but mostly out of necessity. She found the thought of choosing to follow some wolves difficult, and would only willingly lower her head to those who proved themselves superior through hard work, dedication, or strength. Otherwise, she was the worthier one. It was part of the reason she hadn't returned to Silver Creek. As much as she liked and respected Spring as a friend, she did not respect her much as a leader.

"His name's Warbone," she shared with Vixen, gesturing as she stepped away from the skeleton of the former wolf. "He's kind of like me. Been through a lot of tough shit, forgot his life somehow, came back to find it totally changed." Saena didn't comment on whether or not that made either of them fit leaders. She'd forgotten and then remembered, but it hadn't affected her ability to lead a pack of wolves any... that she knew of. "What makes you want to turn things around?" It was a vague enough question, but what Saena really wanted to know was whether Vixen fit into the forming vision of Warbone and herself: a pack free of personal bullshit, more or less.

so ye're a tough poppet, eh?? asked the Vixen with a sly, yet flattering tone. She did look like the tough kind.. I mean.. Not everyone rolls on death and stands up so meekly. Suffering, once again, was clearly seen through her eyes, and those who suffer so much and keep going forward spoke to Vixen in a way most couldn't. She believed those to be her kin, and kin is stronger together.

And she wasn't wrong. I bet me tail he's a tough lad too, then... Th' name alone speaks fer it she commented on Saena's revelation, which got her even more interested. Blackbeard and Redbeard and all the other damned beards could suck ass, this girl looked more promising than their ugly, rotten faces. So she decided, then, that Saena the youthful leader would be her cap'n now, if she would have her.

I've been alone fer a while 'n... Fer as much as I like doin' me owns shit it jus' gets borin'... 'n ye know wha' they say... Winter is comin' she answered, and taking the chance to sell herself, she added: so wha' ye say? Reckon yer crew has space fer one more?

A tough poppet? Saena didn't really know what poppet meant, but it didn't sound like a bad thing, so she nodded once to affirm. She was tough, or liked to think she was. Her life had been one full of strife and conflict in one form or another. While she only remembered some of it, the effects on her were undeniably evident even still. To settle down and be free of it for a time was all she wanted nowadays, besides her daughters.

"He is," agreed Saena, with utmost confident. She didn't know Warbone well enough to know where his name came from, but she reckoned it had something to do with his grizzled appearance. He was no doubt a veteran of battle. From appearances alone, Saena could guess where the man's moniker was from. She wanted to say more on the subject, but there wasn't much that came to mind before Vixen changed topics, and what the red-haired wolf said piqued Saena's interest far more than the origin of her counterpart's name.

"It isn't the easiest crowd," she warned. The least she could do for any wolf looking to join her crew, so to speak, was let them know what they were in for. "Those who follow under me are expected to follow commands from their betters, and are welcome to give commands to their lessers. Hierarchy is important to us. We are not afraid to enforce it." Saena's troubles in the past with unruly subordinates were enough to drive her to be overly strict about it, and she doubted Warbone would let other wolves get off easy if they broke the rules or stepped out of line. "But those who keep their place will find a sanctuary and family among us. We are wolves who follow the older ways, so we are a pack forged of the closest bonds. Those who find their way into our group shall never want for companionship. We live and breathe for one another, and I am committed to the safety of my wolves. Warbone is no different."

"If that sounds like the pack for you," she continued, fixing Vixen with a curious smile, "then walk with me into the vale, and become one with us." Surely there would be tweaks and changes in her intents for the pack, what with Warbone's influence and the influence of her own wild instincts, but she sought only what she'd always sought: a solid family, wolves united, a living and breathing entity rather than just a collection of individuals.

Comprehension and excitement painted across her face as she listened to Saena's pitch about her pack. It sounded badass, safe and completely in line with what Vixen had decided she needed in her life. The comfort of a pack to back her up, fresh food on her table and others to run beside her to catch it. Vixen had rarely ever truly bonded with anyone before, her life a dull and violent scene ever before breaking free from Tortuga, but now perhaps she was ready to really become part of something again... She was willing to try.

Ye got it, cap'n she finally decided, seeing discipline and hierarchy only as a natural and necessary aspect of every group. With those words she had just taken Saena as her commander, and as such she would abide by her law. Warbone would be no different if he showed as much promise as his co-boss, and the rest of the pack would get to know what Vixen was made of. Th' name's Vixen, by th' way she added, realizing that there had been no time for a proper introduction.

Vixen's easy pledge came as a surprise, but Saena welcomed it, and smiled broadly when the red-haired woman agreed to the terms of Duskvale. All trepidation about the opposing wolf's appearance faded away, and Saena gestured with her muzzle for Vixen to follow, that she might walk her into the vale and eventually introduce her to Warbone. The skeletal remains of the wolf were left behind, forgotten.

"My name is Saena," she introduced, "and my pack, Duskvale." The pack itself had no name, truly, but Saena had called the valley Duskvale, and so that was how she referred to the group living there. Currently it was only her, Tryphon, and Warbone, but she was determined to see it grow into a truly fearsome force. Even if it remained a small pack, they would have bonds like no other. Of that, she was absolutely certain.

"Let's go home," she said with a grin, and then invited the woman to a game of tag that would carry them down into the vale.