Wolf RPG

It had been almost a day since Alyssum had managed to wander off undetected. She hadn't told anyone - including her sister - for she knew that it wasn't allowed. But alas, she was a wanderer at heart and the urges to move had begun to overcome her. It was a dangerous habit for a woman such as herself to have, as she had a feeble mind with the sense of a pup. Night was beginning to set when she realized she'd become lost in the tangles of the land, unknowingly crossing another border as her mind was racing too quickly for her to focus on her steps. She lifted her head back, releasing an urgent call for Eden's aid. She had become afraid, terrified even, and soiled where she sat, now with piss tangled in her fur.
She lay down and covered her head with her paws, reminding herself that Eden was coming to find her, to save her. Her whines were loud and echoed through the dark as she waited, hoping her savior would come soon. Eden had had yet to let her down, as far as Alyssum was concerned, so she had no doubt that she would soon be home again held in the embrace of her sister. You are safe, you are brave, you are the daughter of an alpha. You are safe, you are...and she continued with her mantra, waiting for the courage to erupt.

Giana had been doing a last patrol when crossed with the scent of another.... A tresspasser, for there was no fresh scent of anybody else - Alyssum's call rang out in the next moment, and without hesitation the ivory woman turned tail and thundered after the foolish girl. She was a warrior at heart, even under the hands of Molech, and this female was a tresspasser - every bone screamed attack to Giana. 

Even so, when she finally came into view of a feeble, whitecoated woman, a snarl ripping through her jaws and her hackles rising to full right away - her tail even arched over her back in a now rare stance of dominance - but she didn't lunge right away. The tresspasser was laying in a puddle of her own piss, whimpering to herself and crying. 

                       "What's wrong with you?"

Giana's words whipped out like ice, and she took another step forward to better sniff the girl - she was from the pack across the cedars. Was she sick, mental, slow - she was most definatley grown - Giana didn't know, but no matter what she was on The Malkaria's lands. In her time here, she'd already softened the showing of her bones - her fur was again thick, clean, and even the scent of all sickness was gone -she was again healthy, if just way too thin. Soon, she would be healthy, and she would go into heat - and she was fully prepared to give a pup to Molech, when she did.

The stink of fear and piss grew every more prevailing with every stalking step she took, until finally Ragna came upon the trespasser. It was a soft, large wolf, yet she cowered and sniffled. Ragna arrived in time to hear Giana question the woman, but felt she had no time for questioning. This was twice, now, that a wolf had crossed her borders. Ragna's lips peeled back as she materialized from between the trees, her hackles raised and eyes aflame. Get up, she ordered the whimpering fool. Get up or die.

She looked to Giana, whose dominant posture lacked the coiled aggression Ragna's held. Last time she had deferred to Arunik'ra. This time she would take control of the situation herself. Go rouse Arunik'ra. We will go to the shrine, Ragna said. If the trespasser was going to be a sacrifice to Molech, then they would need a priestess, wouldn't they?

Yet the fool girl would not move, no matter how Ragna snapped and growled. Move or die, she repeated, this time an ultimatum. Ragna nipped at the girl's flanks and received no response but whimpers. She grasped the girl's scruff and tried to haul her up, for though she herself had given the ultimatum, she had no great desire to kill the poor fool. Yet even this rough treatment had no effect, the girl was frozen with fear.

When last she had been with Giana, she had ripped open the throat of a doe. And so Ragna did the same, ripping the girl's neck roughly and jerking her head, her teeth rending flesh until the fool's lifeblood pumped from the ragged wound. And so she stood, chest heaving with the gravity of what she had just done, and watched the light fade from the girl's eyes.

Eyes flashing, chest sticky with blood, she turned to Giana. Help me move her, she said. It was a request, not a demand.

It was Ragna's pale form that joined her, frame held in the anger that Giana felt inside - while the newer Baakar held her stance of dominance over the stupid girl, it was the shieldmaiden who took charge. Her order was drowned in the next snarl that parted her jaws, but it didn't seem important now.

Ragna gave her a final choice, but when the girl did not move, The Malkaria warrior lept forward. Gia gave a few of her own nips, urging the idiot to get up, run, something - but it was too late. Truthfully, there was no reason for her to care, and she didn't in the least. As when she'd hunted with this very woman, Gia watched Ragna tear the throat of an animal - her stormy eyes were narrowed down, scorning Alyssum and her actions in her mind. Her chest was not heavy, nor her shoulders: the fact that she'd just watched the life of a potential innocent be ripped apart before her didn't in the least bother her. She didn't bat an eye - she didn't even have the decency to look away - just glared at the corpse, frame still held high, until it lacked blood, life. 

It was Ragna's voice, her request that finally melted the ivory statue, her features falling - her eyes flicked numbly to the shieldmaiden briefly, focusing again before a nod. Wordlessly, she leaned down and fastened her jaws around the haunch of the girl, ready to follow Ragna to wherever she deemed the body went.

Regret and guilt tinged the blind rage, her chest heaved with the heavy weight of it all, from her breast to the lead ball in her gut. The stink of blood permeated her senses, crossing from scent to sight and to taste, until it was all that she was aware of. Distantly, she knew that Giana was there, but she could barely hear past the rush of blood in her ears. She thought of Ragnar, and breathed, and then she was fine. She was her father's daughter, and had just proved it.

Giana moved soundlessly to aid Ragna, and she felt distant gratitude. She took her place at Giana's side and gripped the corpse, beginning to drag the body away from the copse and towards the fields beyond the wood.