No prob; we can hunt!
Unbeknownst to either of them, Miyako had entered the forest and was following the same deer trail that lured Drogon further into the forest. She was continuing to explore the Teekon Wilds, and a risky adventure through a gorge, whitewater churning below, had led her to this thick expanse of trees. The scent of prey made her mouth water.
After a quick drink at a beautiful little stream, Miyako went on, padding silently through the trees. The air was redolent with pine trees and damp, cool earth. Still, she kept her eyes--or, rather, her nose--on the prize, finally coming to the source of the delicious smell. A small meadow, where a herd of deer grazed placidly, ears twitching every once in a while.
It was a couple of moments before she realized she was not alone. A massive blue-black wolf, icy eyes fixed on the deer, just a few feet away from her. Wishing not to scare the deer, she wagged her tail silently at him to signal her approach, then crept to his side. In wonderment she stared--this wolf had a silvery mane, like the lions of her father's fantastical tales, thick and shaggy around his neck. Miyako had never seen anything like it.
"Hunting?" she asked, her whisper barely audible over the forest sounds. "Want some help?" The wolf couldn't be more than a year old--but even in adolescence, he was huge. His size gave him an advantage over the smaller, weaker members of the herd. . .but perhaps he'd like some company, and besides, she was hungry.
Miyako followed his gaze to an aging buck, lingering near the back of the herd, his joints and mind clearly deteriorated with the years. He rumbled his plan to her, and she gave him a sharp nod of agreement, not needing to say anything else. In fact, she was going to suggest the same thing--she was quick, and he was strong. He could bring down this male if she tired him out enough.
"This might get messy," she warned softly, "but we'll make it work." With that, Miyako slinked into the clearing, eyes fixed on the herd, moving so quietly there was no way the deer could sense her dark pelt in the dim woods. She picked up her pace a little as she approached the old buck, then, with a leap, flung herself at his grazing form and nipped at his shoulder.
With a bellow of alarm, the prey spun on his heels and began to stumble away. Miyako dived expertly to avoid the flurry of hooves, then lunged forward in hot pursuit, saliva dripping from her open jaws as she chased the buck from his friends. With satisfaction, she realized they were headed almost directly toward Drogon, crouched at the edge of the trees.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the animal's tusks rip into her newfound acquaintance's shoulder and winced, but had no time to otherwise react as he lept into the fray with her, their two dark bodies bearing down on the animal. Miyako had no idea how his stamina stacked up against hers, but she knew that she herself could run all day, and she would run down this beast come hell or highwater.
His giant jaws snapped at its leg, trying to grasp on. Trying to sever the tendon, most likely, she noted with approval. A solid plan. One good crunch and the animal would come crashing down.
Miyako tried it herself, lunging her neck forward, mouth agape. So close. . . Before she could snap down, the rear right hoof clipped her in the head--not a direct hit, but a glancing blow hard enough to make her tumble down, stopped in her tracks.
"Fuck!" she growled aloud, scaring the other deer enough to scatter them into the trees. Feeling a bit woozy, she wobbled slowly to her feet, gave her head a shake, and took off again to join the other wolf again. The chase was heading into the forest; the sleeker, stealthier wolves had advantage over the buck in this situation. Victory had to be theirs soon, right?
finally we catch a break, haha
The gash the deer's hoof left on her left temple opened with her rapid movement, dribbling scarlet blood into her eye. She had no time but to blink it away as she continued pursuit, seeing the male give her a brief nod in the corner of her vision. Nearly as soon as that happened, his head snaked forward and pierced the deer's leg, bringing it down with a tremendous bellow.
"Put it out of its misery," she heard him say--more like command--to her through a haze of adrenaline, giddy from the hunt. Trembling ever so slightly, she nodded curtly in acceptance and trotted next to the deer, which was dragging itself slowly, pitifully, away from where it had fallen, bleeding slowly from its injured leg.
There was no killing leap--Miyako merely had to rear up on her hind legs and sink her teeth into the buck's jugular, releasing a spurt of hot blood that soaked her muzzle and neck. She let go the animal and watched it sink down again, the life leaving its eyes like a flame slowly extinguished. Licking her lips, she shook the blood gently from her pelt and turned to face the male.
"Nice," she said, pointing her nose briefly at the kill. "Thanks for taking him down with me." Miyako took a step or two forward, ears pricked curiously. "I just realized I don't even know your name, or who you are, really. I'm Miyako. I'm pretty new here." The blood had ceased trickling from her head wound as it began to clot, beginning the healing process. Remembering his own injury, her gaze flicked to his shoulder. "How's your shoulder feel?"
She shakes her head at his inquiry, smiling in response. "No, no, I'm fine. It's not bleeding anymore, and it should be just a scar in a few days." Her nostrils flared, picking up the scent of the kill. The animalistic side of her pushed her to dive right in, cover her muzzle in flesh and guts; the diplomatic side of her needed to know more about this wolf.
"Sooo. . .Drogon. A Soturi," Miyako tested out the unfamiliar word, drawing out each syllable. She cast an unblinking gaze upon him, taking in his appearance once again. Past the hunt, she now saw he was young: his brute strength masked the pup flesh still lingering in places. His eyes, however, were not young--they had seen hardship in the few months they had been open. He must have had to age quickly. A warrior, he had named himself.
"Do you have family nearby? Or are you alone?"
Miyako knew the subject of family was raw to so many. She herself had lost hers, and winced when others had brought up theirs. She figured this one, without a hunting party in tow, was flying solo, but she needed to make sure she wasn't taking vital resources from young siblings or elderly family members of Drogon's before she helped herself to the kill.
Two words batted away her question. So that was that, then. No family, or at least no desire to talk about any family. While his silence rubbed her the wrong way, a little--she had always been a talker--she understood clamming up about the past.
Thanking him for the green light to eat, Miyako sank her teeth into the animal's belly flesh and ripped a good chunk away, hardly chewing in her haste to swallow. The taste almost made her weak in the knees. She had subsisted on small game and on old carcasses on the verge of rotting for the past few weeks. Fresh venison was heaven in her mouth.
Her stomach had shrank considerably during her travels, and she found herself stuffed much faster than she usually was. Slowly stepping back from the body--still plenty where that came from--she licked her chops and nodded at Drogon. "Have at it, dude," she said, grinning, her stomach convulsing in a silent belch.
He speaks! Still licking her chops, she looked at him and smiled. "Not sure yet," Miyako replied. She looked up and around her, at the dark green canopy and the thick trunks below. "I kind of like it here. I grew up on plains, near ocean cliffs. This is completely new to me."
She tilted her head to one side. "What about you, Drogon? Think you might stick around for a while longer, or head elsewhere for more adventure?" The forest was quiet, birds singing sweetly in the trees, the wind just the barest whisper through the brush.
Miyako wondered about this young wolf. Clearly he had been alone for a while, but he didn't seem old enough to have gone without family for this long. What had happened to force his hand into solitude? He was nice enough, and a skilled hunter--probably a fighter too, she noted, looking at his bulk. He would serve any pack well. What had gone on in the past?
She gave a small bark of laughter, smiling. "I feel that. I've traveled what seems like half the world in just a month or so."
Miyako looked close at him, trying to figure him out. This guy seemed a lot more veiled than others she had come across. "So you're not with a pack," she mused. "Will you join me as a hunting partner if we both find ourselves alone by the first snowfall?"
It was a hell of an offer, she knew. Especially to this dark wolf that, she assumed, prided himself on being such a loner. But he was young, and winter was coming. Maybe even his first winter. He knew not how cold it would get. And maybe he needed help.
this seems like a good place to wrap this thread up. :-) feel free to post once more or archive as is! thank you for the thread; i'd definitely love another one soon! ♥
There is a certain level of understanding that passes between two lone wolf strangers, strengthened when they decide to take the chance and hunt together despite that there is no knowledge of the other. She understands what he means without him having to explain it and he, accordingly understands what she means. Drogon has not been wandering for most of his life but it certainly feels like all he’s been doing ( the first three months of his life had been spent in packs ). Drogon doesn’t answer her when she questions that he’s not apart of a pack running off the assumption that it’s likely a rhetorical question. She places an offer into the air between them then, startling the tundrian for a moment. He isn’t sure why because he’d half had an inkling of something similar and it sounds perfectly logical. Two wolves banded together during the winter months likely had a bit of a higher survival rate and they’d already proved that they worked rather well as a team. “If we’re still alone by first snowfall, yes, I will be your companion through the winter months.” Drogon has already resigned himself to the fact that he will have to find a pack before then but it’s nice to know that it’s no longer his only option if he doesn’t wish for it to be.
He offers her a quirk of his lips into a smile before he moves to the deer, grasps a hindquarter, gnaws and tugs it free of the corpse. It takes some work but he selfishly wants it for himself for later though he knows, now, he’ll have to find or rather dig a place to hide it until he gets hungry later. “Until we meet again Miyako.” The tundrian dips his head to her before he grasps his leftovers and disappears into the shadows of the forest aiming to go deeper into the territory’s heart to stash his prize.
She smiled as he accepted his offer. Even he was not too prideful to let that offer slide. Drogon ripped a leg from the deer and bade her farewell before dashing into the forest, meat in tow. Murmuring goodbye in turn, Miyako stepped up to the deer again.
She had become hungry once more, and she dove into its vast gut--the old buck had eaten well in his long life--chowing down as much as she could before she felt her stomach bloat again. Licking her chops, Miyako managed to tug the deer over onto its other side, then, shaking a little with effort, selected the other hindquarter for her bounty.
With it firmly stashed in her jaws, the dark female trotted once more into the forest, in a slightly different direction than Drogon had gone. She needed the best possible place to stash this from other wolves and predators. This would help her not starve this winter, especially if she didn't run into that big young wolf again.