@Zugzwang @Terance @Tarot @Treason here we are! Java: you post first! If you could do me a solid and maybe have Zug just rip a limb off and run off so she's all but dying when Terance and Tarot arrive, I'd appreciate it.
Hyacinth had goofed in several ways. First she had decided today to go over the southern borders, to inspect the river that flowed so close to their pack. Second she had found a bush with red berries that smelled sweet and looked edible and had eaten a few mouthfuls. It took about half an hour to realise they were bad and once she did it was too late. She began to heave, the sounds of her vomiting loud and filled with pain. Her legs cramped and locked up, leaving her unable to move. She panted and retched again, hacking a glob of blood onto the ground. That was where she realised she had goofed massively. She sent a panicked howl hoping that her packmates could hear and that someone, anyone would come to her rescue.
He had spotted her ages ago as he'd stalked along, and when he did he felt the same greedy pull in the pit of his belly that made him target these foul creatures; he picked up the pace and trailed after her. A few times the cat thought he'd lost the pale wolf upon the hillside - the snow was fresh - and he cursed at himself mentally for being so easily waylayed. It wasn't until an hour or so later, as he went about his business, that Zugzwang found her trail again. He discovered the wolf-scent scattered among some bushes, the snow beneath having been stained with red and pink tones due to her feeding. He knew not to eat the berries, but was amused that the wolf had no doubt consumed many - this dampened his mood a little bit, because her self-poisoning was an entertaining thought but it would lead to an easy hunt.
The cat could hear her in the wilderness - the hacking, and soon enough the sharp smell of vomit hitting the snow. Zugzwang did not need to go far. He found her coughing blood in to the snow, and upon spotting the sharp red on her lips he felt invigorated — he wanted to see more, to taste it, to watch her pale coat soak in that color. The cat's eyes flashed dangerously as he stalked closer, closer, closer — and just as she loosed her call for help, he launched himself. She was already on the ground, already doomed — but he would make quick work of the rest of her.
Zugzwang charged in to her and with a drag of his palms, sliced the flesh of her haunch. He reached again with one set of claws, then the other, and pulled her close in an embrace, only to gouge at her with his hind limbs, to fold himself across her smaller form and rend her to pieces. By the time he'd grown bored with the game of tearing, biting, and bleeding her, the blood was everywhere. She was alive (because that was his will) but not for long. As he left her, he grasped one of her limbs with his teeth and with all the power within his upper body, he yanked one way, then another, listening to the chorus of the popping joint and cracking bones.
As he departed, he left a trail of crimson from where he'd grabbed his pound of flesh. The limb went with him a few feet before the awkward hold became too irritating for the fickle cat. Zugzwang dropped the limb after that, and picked up his pace. Wolves were pathetic creatures that relied on groups for survival, and he had been quick to do his work - but he would not stick around to deal with the fallout. He'd had his fun, and now he was free.
Exit.
He had not been far away at all from where such a grisly scene took place, and for the most part would have been unaware of it. Yet the piercing call of panic seized him, halting his task immediately. It was nearby in the relative sense but he did not approach it with the immediacy of an emergency initially. The terrain along the fringes of this part of the packland remained unfamiliar to him and if nothing else were to compose him, he did not go rushing into things with the vigor reserved for more stalwart, knightly champions.
It may have been this that saved him, this small selfish action.
The scene that he did find was a sign of clear malevolence; it stole the breath from him at once to see all the blood, the carnage strewn, and the signs that something far more foul than misery lurked in the timberland. Caution crept up on him as he advanced onto such a violent stage, his eyes almost everywhere by the bloodied mass of wolf. Except this was no wolf battered and torn—it was Hyacinth. He barely knew her beyond a name and a face, had yet to approach her and offer to tend to Rannoch... and it took no more than a cursory glance of her body to realize that this would be their only meeting.
There were many things he thought himself capable of fixing, but this was not one of them. He felt only the pinprick of pain come brief and quick as he rounded past her torn hindquarters to where her head rested. The pain had to be immense but with the onslaught of winter to their doorsteps, he had no knowledge of where her wares may have been, let alone how to comfort her. Bedside manner was not his forte, but then again far things were; the best he could do now was stand guard until more capable hands came.
Still, he mustered something of a soothing expression to his features as he looked on her.
”Rest now,” he ushered softly.
If she can even hear you, then it is a miserable existence, came another unseen rumble of whispers, and he did not disagree. All he hoped in that moment was that shock had replaced pain, and she would give in to the throes of a well-earned final rest—suddenly, the sound of another, or
others, he could not tell. The feline, perhaps? His gaze rose suddenly from her, hackles flaring along the spiny ridges of his back to who would advance next.
leaving this open ended on my part as well.
As soon as her jaws had closed once more she turned her head just in time to see the feline lunge for her. The pain was immediate but her screams were not. For a few long moments she simply stared, open jawed and beautiful blue eyes wide with terror and shock before the pain sank in and she screamed. Already weakened her struggles were almost non-existent, even her screams fading to dazed whimpers of agony. She stared blankly somewhere off in the distance, focusing on the way the snow glittered in the beams of the sun as the cat had it's way with her. It was funny that she was still alive yet she felt like she was dead, so numb and floaty and detached. Even her thoughts drifted lazily through her mind. Her whimpers went silent and as Zugzwang tore a limb from her body all that she gave in response was a weak shiver and a sharp gasp, pupils dilating so almost all of her pretty blue iris's were gone. She was aware of the sharp, intense and overwhelmingly strong scent of blood, her blood, and the sudden absence of the feline's presence near her. It was the loneliness that hurt the worst, the sudden sharp fear that she wasn't going to be found, that she would die alone and only be found when other predators had picked at her body. She didn't want to be alone, yet she was so so tired....
But no! She wouldn't go yet, stubborn was she that she fought hard enough to be semi alert when one of their newer members found her. He tried to soothe her and it touched her, making her sad that she wouldnt be around to get to know all of their members. "S....sorry I never got to m...meet you" she whispered, her voice the faintest of whispers. Her eyes still stared out at nothing but she knew he was there. She wished she could check on Rannoch again, Or get to know all their new members, or find love, or have pups, or- a shiver ran through her body and she felt herself slipping. Ironically her eyes focused at that last moment and she looked directly at him "R...Rannoch...tell him I said thanks...for..being a g..good friend" she stammered, lips curling up slightly as the icy cold turned to warmth and then suddenly she was gone. Her paws twitched once and then her eyes glazed over, the gleam of life turning into the frosty glass look of death.