Wolf RPG

A brittle crust of snow crunched underfoot as Saena and her pack mate crossed an open stretch between copses in their vale. The first female had spotted a small herd of white-tailed deer, a buck and three does, and she'd summoned the nearest Duskvale wolf to aid her in bringing down the weakest of the herd. The doe had a hobbled leg and trailed behind the others, but even so they moved quickly, and they were already deep in the next stand of trees before the wolves descended into the shadows.

With a sharp gesture, Saena sent her pack mate diving into the undergrowth to the left. Their best bet was to fan out and pincer the unsuspecting doe. They would both remain downwind to keep the advantage; the wolves knew that as naturally as breathing. She watched her companion's tail disappear into the leafless brush, then turned her head back to the direction she knew the deer were in—they were nearly to the edge of the vale now—and licked her chops.

He'd been somewhat surprised to find that Saena was a woman. He supposed, now, that it'd been silly to think otherwise - Warbone had called her his equal, and Dag had thought of his brothers and assumed that the alpha ruled alongside one of his own. There was no rhyme or reason to his thoughts, really, but nevertheless, he'd been surprised when Saena had been introduced.

She was not what he'd expected. Not in any way.

From the bushes, he glanced in her direction, though is focus was mainly on the deer they stalked. The feirce form of her was something that often drew Dag's eye. Everything from her bobbed tail to her painted eyes seemed strange and otherwordly - even her demeanor had him reeling, for she was not like any wolf he'd ever met. All in all, Dag supposed she reminded him most of his mother, for they shared the same strength and tenacity - but it was not a parallel that'd been easy to draw. Saena was her own wolf, and Dag understood why Warbone had warned him to respect her above all others.

Creeping through the undergrowth, the dark male allowed such thoughts to drift away. His eyes zeroed in on the prey that they hunted, but even so, he was aware of the First Wolf's position. In tandem, they drew nearer and nearer to the doe - the knowledge that this land was theirs made them silent and invisible to the other creatures.

For Dag, that would change as soon as he left the protection of the underbrush. His dark coat would make him easy to spot against the crisp, white now. Saena would have the advantage, then - Dag would draw their eyes for the few and perilous seconds the First Female needed to make the first attack, and by then, Dag would be on them, too.

The glitter of Saena's eyes seemed to meet his own, and sensing that this had been the signal, Dag sprang silently from the brush and traveled quickly over the few yards that separated himself from their target. With a muffled whumph, he met the doe's flesh open-jawed and latched on to the meatiest part of her foreleg, pulling hard.

Saena kept Dagfinn in her periphery as she crept through the barren woods. She didn't know the male well, but she didn't need to know him to hunt effectively with him. They needn't even speak their strategy aloud. By giving herself over to the wild instincts housed within her heart, passed down from her ancestors, she was able to read his movements and his intents. Having never been overly perceptive before allowing the wild wolf within to take her over, Saena found the entire phenomenon enlightening. Each of Dagfinn's breaths seemed to invigorate her as they did him. His paws moving soundlessly over the leaf litter were her own paws. They moved in tandem, and soon enough, they had closed the distance.

There would be time to know Dagfinn later. What Saena did know of him was that he was worthy of the vale. He was strapping and strong, seemingly eager to serve, but of course, the first wolves of the vale served him as well. The leader of a pack was its head and legs both; if they demanded from their followers without giving of themselves, they would never earn respect. Saena's strength was in hunting, and whether it be large game with the aid of her fellows or solitary hunts for small game, she would supply them with food whenever they needed it. She expected Dagfinn to sacrifice time for his pack as well, and thus far, she was pleased with his participation. He'd fallen in to hunt with her as if their teamwork was utterly natural... and it was.

Yes, she approved of Dagfinn. She would test his resilience, strengths, and weaknesses in the coming months, but her first impression of him was promising. She glanced sidelong through the underbrush, locating his darker figure among the shadows, and her eyes glinted as she refocused on the deer. Anticipation made her coil her muscles, so when Dagfinn launched himself from his cover, Saena was hot on his tail. Her legs stretched to their fullest length as she bounded after the deer, which fled, but not before Dagfinn got his teeth in her forelimb. The keening scream of the deer was a tone they could not discern, but it didn't matter. Saena could smell the terror coming off it in waves, mixed with the pungent smell of drawn blood, and its snorts and stamps as it fought to get away were as easily read as any spoken word.

The rut was drawing near its end by this time of year, but that didn't mean the buck up ahead wouldn't prove dangerous to the wolves. For the time being, he was unaware of his weakest doe being attacked, and Saena was heedless of him as she swung in on the doe's other side and dug her teeth into a point very near its axilla, filling her mouth with warm flesh and warmer blood. She hauled back on her body, planting her hind paws and wrenching back with the full force of her spine, but she was a small wolf and the doe recovered from its stumble. But she hadn't meant to fell it. Dagfinn was the brunt of their force, and if the doe would be felled, it would be by his power. Saena's tactic was to bleed out her prey, and she sought to do just that when she tore a hunk of flesh from beside its meaty armpit.

Dag didn't know the exact moment when his companion met her mark - he assumed that she'd be with him, and when he found the time to look for her, she did not disappoint. The leader had taken a chunk from the doe's armpit, and while Dag did his best to tear the doe off her feet, he did not despair when she got away from him. Neither did he set off at once to go after her, instead choosing to take a moment to regain his breath.

"She's not long for this world," he said to the first female with a bloody smile, shaking the snow out of his pelt before moving to lick a bit of icy blood from the ground. "Should we wear her down or or wait?" he wondered, privately thinking that he would enjoy a bit of a chase before dinner. He knew, however, that the smarter thing to do would be to conserve their energy and wait for her to tire her own self out. After all, she wouldn't be getting very far with blood pouring out of her and two heavily damaged legs.

The doe kicked away from the two wolves. Saena fell back, and was glad that Dagfinn moved in tune with her. She watched, fascinated, as he stooped to lap at the ground where the doe's life blood fell, but she lifted her head to survey the fleeing doe instead. Instantly she picked up her feet into a slow trot to keep pace, only to keep it in her line of sight. She considered Dagfinn's words for a moment, and in the end decided, "we can harass her a little longer. They bleed more when they're scared."

As though to goad him on, the cream-furred bitch kicked up her heels and sped up, aiming to close the distance so she could offer the doe another solid bite. She never got there, though. Out of the corner of her eye she detected movement, and only because of this was she saved from being gored by the protective buck's antlers. He charged with head thrown hither and thither, and Saena sprang out of the way just in time to avoid the pointed tines. She did not avoid the heavy swing of the blunt side of one antler, though, and she was buffeted bodily as the buck swung about, kicking his feet and snorting loudly.

She pulled away from him, panting, as a bruise surely formed on her shoulder. "Careful!" she called back to Dagfinn, but she'd lost track of him, and didn't know if he was in any danger or not. The buck was too risky for them to tackle even as a pair, so they needed to remain focused on the doe, but that was challenging with the enraged stag attempting to ward them away.

Muddy brown snow hit Dag across the muzzle as the first female kicked up her heels, and the dark male sounded a loud, friendly growl as he took off after her. His nature dictated that he would not pass her up, but Dag made sure to breath hard, hot breaths against her heels so that she would know that she did not have him beat. The youth did not know whether this was lost on the older shewolf or not, but it mattered very little. If Saena wanted to make this a competition, she would certainly win. Whether by her own merit or through Dag's refusal to challenge her was the question.

As it was, they were more focused on the doe than anything else. The dark male fanned out from the first wolf, nose twitching and lips curling as he followed the blood-scent of their prey. He hunted best in the frost, when all other distracting scents were taken away. Some wolves found it hard to smell anything in the cold, but it was not so for the young male. The doe was already in his sight by the time the angry trample of hooves from behind him. Dag turned his head, confused, only to see his alpha thrown, and to hear the distant thawk of antler-on-flesh.

"Saena!" he said sharply, bounding to her side. He gave a hideous snarl in the buck's direction, but if it gave the other pause at all, he was sure their reprieve would not be long. If she would allow it, Dag moved to help the first wolf away. A quick meal wasn't worth this.

"We should swing around and watch her from the ridge - the important thing is keeping her in the valley, not getting her quickly," he counseled, hoping he would be heeded. If Saena wished to keep after the doe with this beast bothering them, Dag would do it - but he would rather not.

Saena was nothing if not stubborn. For a fleeting instant, she skimmed back her lips and bared her teeth at the buck, daring it to try her and Dagfinn's strength, even though in the back of her mind she knew that was a terrible idea. The buck would win, hands down. Dagfinn's arrival at her side shook her from her resolute stance and she moved into a rolling gait with him, and then she considered his suggestion. She wanted to chase the doe and continue weakening her, lest she somehow find the strength to overcome her wounds and not fall at all, but the buck was already hot on their tail to make sure they left, so what choice did they have?

Besides, Dagfinn was right. The seasoned hunter in her was loathe to admit it, but the more logical part of Saena knew this hunt would not be possible with the buck attacking them every second. Best to pull away and wait out the doe's injuries.

"Okay," she conceded, swinging wide of the buck with him. "We'll keep her in the valley. If she doesn't fall on her own we'll go at her again later on, when he's calmed down." But she hoped the doe went down on her own. That was easier and safer for all involved. Panting lightly, she began picking her way toward the ridge, only to swing around with a snarl at the sound of the buck crashing through the twigs in the undergrowth. His charge fell short of wolves, assuming Dagfinn had reacted similarly, but it made the hair on Saena's neck stand up indignantly that he was continuing to harass them even as they headed a different way.

He was relieved when she came easily away from the buck and agreed to his plan of action. The young male's chest puffed up in victory as they went on their way, but his stance shifted swiftly as the buck charged toward them once more. He danced back a few steps with Saena to dodge the trampling of the buck's wicked hooves, but surged forward in his own feint to bark angrily at the aggressor. To Dag, the doe was as good as dead - it frustrated him that the stupid prey animal could not understand.

"C'mon," he suggested, turning his tail toward the beast and setting away from it with a haste. The ground above the Vale was rockier, and with any luck, they could find a vantage point the buck could not reach from which to stand their vigil.

Eventually, one of the two parties would get bored of the other.

It didn't take as long as Saena expected for the buck to lose interest in them. When he realized he couldn't get through the thick tangle of bare branches and bushes as easily as the two wolves did, he retreated some distance, stamping and snorting aggressively. The huntress glanced back over her shoulder at it, her face a mix of annoyance and confusion. She'd never had the misfortune of meeting a buck at the tail end of the rut before, and she was unaccustomed to this level of aggression.

"Yeah," she said, and she was surprised to find her voice came out a little shaky. Giving her head a shake, the lead female turned to follow Dagfinn to higher ground. Even as they began to climb, she could see the buck down below. Not quite rampaging, but... not quite complying with their desire that he return to his remaining does, either. In fact, the animal was standing there, watching them. From up higher she could see the doe, struggling to regain her feet near a glimmering river. Within half an hour she would likely be dead and the pack could converge on her, unless...

A shudder crawled through Saena's skin as her eyes went back to the buck to find him in exactly the same place. He wasn't smart enough (or stupid enough, really) to harass the pack prevent them from feeding... right? With a snort, she fell in line with Dagfinn and refused to look back at the eerie buck again.