Wolf RPG

ooc: inspired by "Au Revoir" by One Republic.
"Let's play a game
Where all of the lives we lead can change
Let's play a game
Where nothing that we can see, is the same"

It was a warm spring evening, the sun was about set and everything was laced in golden light. Pump had left Ragnar and some others at the borders earlier, feeling that she had done her share of guarding and it was time to do a little hunting and scavenging for her evening meal. The bear had raided most of their caches and, even though the wolf-dog didn't feel the loss so acute as the rest of the pack (because she always hunted for herself and thought it low for a strong wolf not to hunt, while it was possible), she did feel some sense of duty in refilling them. Everyone was doing it, so she should too.

Busy in tracking and sniffing, she didn't pay much attention to her surroundings and therefore found herself near the area, which had once been part of Horizon ridge, but now was covered in large rocks and debris. Over the two months, however, it had changed it's appearance though. Here and there between the cracks and open spots she caught sight of grass and yellow flowers sprouting out, making the whole scenery less eerie. She wouldn't have done it weeks before, but now, guided by a sudden impulse, she jumped swiftly at one of the boulders and, when nothing bad happened, she proceeded. This time feeling more confident.

The bear attack was fresh in everyone’s minds. Luckily no one had really gotten hurt from the unruly beast. Ragnar suffered a few wounds on his leg and Pump had been shaken up by the bear when he pounced on her without warning. A few thoughts still overwhelmed the bear incident. That was his conversation with Pump, where like a lovestuck fool poured his heart out to the female. Who in turn rejected him by telling herself it was best for him. Gavriil felt no ill intent towards Pump. He did not blame her for the deep sadness that ate away at his stomach. It was the cinnamon wolf who chose to throw himself on the blade. It would be foolish to blame the blade for splitting him.

Pump’s scent filled the young wolf’s nose on this humid spring evening. The low dancing sun was about to set for the day so he had nothing better to do but follow his alpha’s scent. In a few minutes he came across her position. She was in the most childlike way jumping from boulder to boulder. It was odd seeing his alpha in the resting place of the biggest incident to hit the ridge. Sitting down a few inches away from the rock slide the male let out a bark to his alpha warning her that he was near. ”Don’t hurt yourself. Leaving me alone with Ragnar would make me suffer more than I care to imagine.” Gavriil yelled lightheartedly.

Climbing these rocks was easier than Pump had thought. Her heart beated a little faster and the tips of her toes tingled a little, because the fear she had experienced during the rockslide hadn't gone away completely. Yet this seemed the right time to overcome it - she didn't like to be seen as weak and, if she had survived the bear attack, she could survive climbing this hill of rubble that was left from the rockslide.

Pump was startled a little, when she heard Gavriil calling her, but she quickly regained balance and turned swiftly to face him. "Is he really that bad?" she yelled back, but made her way back to the packmate, since she wasn't entirely comfortable with long-distance conversations. "I haven't heard a single good word about him telling me that he is a nice, happy-go-lucky, pleasant fellow that is fun to have around. Not even that he is cute and fluffy," she became thoughtful though, because the last two were a bit far-fetched even for Ragnar.

Gavriil was nervous enough for the pair of them. His heart beat fast when the female for a split second lost her balance. As fast and as graceful as a hare escaping the jaws of death would she regained her balance. His heart slowed to a regular pace once the female started to come towards him, but it sped up again when she got within speaking distance of the cinnamon wolf. For a few moments Gavriil forgot all about the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and remembered how eye catching the female was. Her fur was placed upon her body in a way that framed her shape perfectly. Muscle was crowding nearly every inch of her skin. The way her ears fell upon her face looked odd for a wolf but it fit the she wolf quite nicely. Her face was welcoming and her eyes were like dark honey dripping from a silver spoon.

Gavriil listened intently as he always did when Pump spoke. He chuckled when the ebony female made the comment about Ragnar not being cute and fluffy. "The moment Ragnar is ever deemed cute and fluffy is the moment when I am deemed king of all the mice." Gavriil  attempted (poorly) to add humor to the conversation. Ragnar was a creature who should be respect. He was savage warrior with very few emotions (surely Thistle saw the ones he kept hidden inside). He was not kind, but he didn't need to be. He wasn't always a pleasant wolf to be around, but he didn't need to be. He was a warrior who would protect his pack mates with his life. That's all that was needed from the Viking.

ooc: they couldn't have worded it more perfectly. :)

Becoming king of all mice was not all that difficult and impossible, yet quite impractical. These creatures were dum and the only purpose they could serve was being caught and eaten. Speaking of which... A quiet sound nearby made her alert. She froze and listened carefully, only her ears swiveled, trying to locate the slightest sound, that would indicate the presence of the little rodents. It payed off, she heard it again and after flashing a quick victorious smile at Gavriil, she turned around and in a half-crouch, began to move quietly, along the piles of boulders, all the while sniffing the ground.

Finally she located a spot, where the scent of mice was the most prominent. She lied down and put her head between her paws, so that the small opening of the mouse-den was in the level of her muzzle. Her tail was wagging behind her, reflected her thrill for the hunt. Gavriil, of course, was welcome to join, except there wouldn't be much to share, if they managed to catch the small creature.

The cinnamon wolf tilted his head when his alpha suddenly turned her ears like an owl twisting its neck 180 degrees around. He watched intently and in silence as the ebony female smirked at the teddy bear an then quickly turned around and got into a hunting stance. Quietly the female stalked the nearly silent squeaking of a mouse.  

The cinnamon male had nothing better to do so in an act of childlike proportions he also began to crouch. Quickly the male stalked up to his alpha's position. The scent of mice surrounded his leathery nostrils. Gavriil brushed his tail up against her back legs. This was for two reasons. One to attempt to egg her on to attack the mouse and two because he honestly just wanted to touch her. His heart was racing and blood pumped through his ears. If Pump heard his heart maybe (if he was lucky) she would mistake it for the thrill of the hunt.

Pump was so absorbed in the prospect of a hunt, that she barely noticed anything that happened around her, let alone Gavriil's touch and his racing heart. She was oblivious to the fact that despite her rejection he still liked her a great deal. Nothing had changed in the way he felt about her, even though she had tried to deter him with the fact that she would only make him unhappy. For her - it was a matter talked through and closed.

She could still feel the scent of the mouse inside, it's anxiety emanating from the little den, as if the small creature knew, what awaited it outside. Pump let out an impatient whimper and scraped the rocks with her forepaws, but it did not help much. She got to her feet, sat down and tilted her head to the side, trying to think of any way that would make the mouse leave it's hiding place, but coming up with nothing. "It looks like we are her for a long wait," she told Gavriil.

He knew she didn't feel the same. The cinnamon wolf just could not stop liking her, or wanting to be with her. He didn't love her, that would take time. If everything continued the way he was suspecting Gavriil would fall in love with her, but she wouldn't know. He would give her the freedom she yearned for at the price of his heart. The teddy bear was okay with that simple fact. She would be happier alone tha with him, that was proven by her words. Why would he hold her back?

The warm pelted wolf chuckled at the female batted the rocks near the poor mouse's den and then rose from her stance. Tilting her ebony head to the side the female was searching for an answer that never came. He did not mind waiting with Pump while the mouse pondered certain death. Gavriil turned to face the female and laid his massive body down on the warm rocks. Placing his head neatly on his paws he gazed up at his alpha. "I will wait forever." The male responded in his mind he alluded to two events. First he would wait for the mouse and second off he would wait for his feelings to develop for the female.

"Forever is too long for such a small win," Pump voiced her opinion, completely oblivious to the fact that there might have been a double-meaning to Gavriil's words. She leaned down to have a peek at the hole, where the tiny creature was still hiding, apparently having decided to wait out. Pump whimpered and pawed at the rocks again, then sighed and decided to give up. Not all mice were meant to be eaten and this one had escaped it's doom because of her mercy and impatience.

"Let's go and find something else," she told Gavriil and beckoned him to follow her away from the piles of rocks and into the forest. "We will have a big hunt soon," Pump spoke, "there is a herd of deer having settled not far from here."

Forever was a long time, but some small wins were worth it. Gavriil wished Pump could see how much he really did like her and enjoyed her company but the female was all but obvious to any movements he made. When they touched it was lighting for him. For the female, it was nothing, just friendly gestures. This simple fact was more heartbreaking than her just flat out telling him there was no chance.

It was a curious sight to see his alpha, Pump, pawing at the rocks above the mouse’s den. Her whimpering then sighing made the teddy bear smile in delight. Beckoning Gavriil with her kind voice and soft face the ebony she wolf trotted along into the forest. The lovestuck male couldn’t do anything but trail her. Speeding up his gait to match hers he marched alongside the female. He longed to press his body against hers as they ambled. That was a simple gesture in his home pack. Two mates would pace alongside the other pressing their shoulders together as if they couldn’t saunter on their own, that they yearned for the support that the other wolf offered. The male stayed a few inches away from her. That gesture was meant for mates. They were far from mates. ”Where is this herd of deer at?” The male questioned the shaggy ebony wolf.

"Come with me and I will show you," Pump explained with a mischievous grin. The herd wasn't very big and for the most time it resided at the northern parts of territories, claimed by the Horizon ridge wolves. Now and then one or two of them would make appearence further in the lands, yet they were careful and smart enough to stay out of the places, where most of the pack wolves lived.

She stopped briefly to check the area and make a decision, which way to go. Her muzzle was lifted, sniffing the air, ears were perked up, listening and analyzing the sounds. Then she turned to meet Gavriil's gaze and beckoned in the direction she was taking. "Can you swim?" the question might appear as "out of the blue", yet Pump never said or did anything without a certain purpose.

His alpha seemed to be full of spunk as of lately. The ebony wolf had almost changed since he first met her. She was hesitant to even call Gavriil a friend and now she accepted that simple fact. Her smiles came quickly, but with reason now. The way she had kissed him after she quickly brushed away his offer came as a huge surprise, but a welcomed one.

The cinnamon male watched as the female with her ears perk and eyes intent, listening and smelling and watching for some sign. Meeting his sunset gaze the female continued to lead him into a direction he was unfamiliar with. He chucked when the female inquired if he could swim. "Of course I can. My nickname when I was small was 'waterfowl'." Gavriil attempted once again at poor humor.

"Really?" Pump cast a curious side-glance at her friend, who didn't look like a person, who would enjoy swimming. At least that was what she had thought. From her experience, those, who were strong and agile on land did very poorly in the water. Her included. Up until a certain age she had loved all the joys rivers and lakes could bring to a young pup, but not anymore. This is, what happens, when you grow up. "They couldn't get me out of the water either, when I was small," she shared this little piece of her past, which didn't seem that significant.

"This is good - the plan is to drive them to the shore and in the water," she explained. "Some will stay on the coast and some will have to go after it herd it towards the hunting party," Pump had all hammered it out. The only thing left was to get all, who could walk and run, get in the action. "You seem to have befriended Ragnar quite well," since they were patrolling the borders together, it would have been strange for them not to have formed some sort of partnership. "Any new observations I should know?"

It was a curious thought thinking about Pump as a pup. She seemed to love the water when she was young as did Gavriil. It was true that these facts were minuscule compared to all the events of each others past. They'd we're still little events, and they were remembered so that was all that was important.

Gavriil shook his head when his alpha spoke of what they needed to do to get the prey. Chasing prey into water would be fun for Gavriil especially with a pump by his side. 

It was true that Gavriil had befriended Ragnar quite well in the past few weeks. He considered him to be one of his best friends in the ridge, besides Pump and Thistle. At first Gavriil questioned Ragnar the more he learned about him from observations of other wolves. Once he started actually talking to the male, he has a lot of advice (good or bad Gavriil won't know till later). He was loyal and cunning. He was a good wolf all flaws aside. "He's a good guy Pump. I really am starting to like him. He's a good friend and a good packmate. You should be proud to have him a sour beta because I am." Gavriil spoke honestly of his packmate the Viking, Ragnar.

Ragnar had proved to be a very useful beta, taking half of the burden of leading and managing the pack that had grown, since Pump had ascended to the alpha rank. She had been wary of him first, not wanting to share her throne, but some weeks had passed and she was glad to have a trustworthy and loyal companion by her side. Their opinions often differed, but the mutual respect for each other helped them to get along as good as it was possible.

"This is good to hear - that you like him. I would not want to have it any other way," she told him truthfully, because the opinions of her packmates mattered to her, even though she would do everything according to her own mind in some occasions. Because her value as a leader depended heavily on her followers. As long as they were with her, she would lead. If they would decide otherwise, she would have no other choice but step down. "Fancy ever becoming a leader yourself?" she asked out of curiosity.

The cinnamon male had little ambition to ever become a leader. He was in all honesty content where he was at. Becoming a respected member of any pack he was apart of was his goal. Beyond that leadership seemed unattainable. Gavriil didn't consider himself to have 'leader' like qualities. He was too forgiving, he trusted others too easily, he was soft and caring. He wasn't brave and determined to have it his way. He avoided conflict at nearly all costs. The teddy bear proved to be a better follower than leader. Gavriil guessed if it was necessary then he would step up for his pack and be the alpha, but for now he wanted just to be Gavriil.

He chuckled when Pump asked him if he ever wanted to become a leader. "I am no threat to your throne my lady." Gavriil spoke politely, although he highly doubted Pump was accusing him of being an usurper. "I am too soft and kind to ever prove to be a decent leader. I am not like you." Gavriil continued on. He did not mean the phrase 'I am not like you' to be an insult. It was a mere fact. In every way that Pump was strong he was weak. It was more of the Cinnamon male admitting to himself that in many ways they weren't alike. Maybe even more that they werent compatible.

Pump didn't consider Gavriil a threat to the leadership, therefore this was not the reason, why she had asked him about it at all. For a person, who had so many good qualities, he had a low self-esteem. He was nothing like Ragnar or Pump, but at the same time he just like Thistle had traits that they both lacked, but were neccessary. One could live it's life life being tough, making only rational decisions, but it was not a happy one. The wolf-dog knew this well, because in all her four years long life she couldn't remember a time, when she had been more cotent than now. This was because she had people around her, who showed empathy, who weren't afraid to care for someone and be kind. Part of Pump considered them as harmless fools, but the other side realized that it was worth living and fighting for people like Thistle, Gavriil and many more, who had found home here.

"So you think that leaders have to be only tough and unfeeling?" she asked with a half-smile.

Gavriil found so many abiding qualities in the female it was difficult to declare them all. While she was durable and rational, she was also just and considerate. Where others would have a difficult time putting themselves last, Pump made it look easy, like even a pup could do it. After the rock slide she stood firm helping others before helping herself. She didn’t give up optimism in Kennedy’s revival. Pump was worried about survival, survival for all. Gavriil looked up to Pump in ways she couldn’t imagine.

”No. Not necessarily. Selfless but impartial, dauntless and optimistic but erudite and rational. All these things you are Pump.” Gavriil replied honestly.

Pump probably was one of the very few people in the world, who didn't spend any time analyzing herself or worrying, what others thought of her. She knew well, who she was, and if others had hard time accepting that, too bad for them. Therefore Gavriil's keen observations of her were interesting to listen to and she felt a little bit flattered of his regard for her, but she didn't linger on it.

"How come that you are so good on nailing down the good qualities of others, but be so oblivious of your own?" she asked him, expecting to hear a good and well-founded answer. It was one of the many talents Gavriil had and, which he surprisingly, didn't want to admit.

They continued to talk for quite a long time, enjoying each others company.