the morass was below, stretched out across miles like a dark plague against the light of the earth. the only things he had seen rise from the area were crows, or ravens – he hadn't been certain which. he could hear their cries as they passed the point of the mountain and over his head. once the figures of the dark birds had vanished from sight, he had turned back to the stretch of inky morass and began to move along the jagged stone of a more difficult climb. the rock beneath him was grounded and firm, but left little room for mistake. tusk moved as though he were not paying attention to where he was going, only that he needed to keep his limbs from remaining still. the gentle roll of his musculature was a sign that he had not extended beyond his limits; the wildcat was merely existing.
the sound of shuffling and a wicked snort had pulled his dull yellow eyes away from the view. quickly, he latched his gaze to the scrambling figure of a wild boar who had made a great deal of effort to clamber over a particularly large stone. tusk did not aim to strike it down, but watched carefully before leaping over the boulder and following the hog along the alpine. he had thought that it had intended to climb higher, but instead it moved in a horizontal path, rising and dropping only where it was needed before disappearing in the dark of the thick trees.
A heavy snowfall had kept him bound to the mountain for a day or so, which wouldn't have typically been an issue except that Tulimaq was growing increasingly more irritated with the progression of his life. He should've known not to climb so high in a region he'd never visited before. By the time morning hit he was already up and roaming, seeking out a safe method of climbing down the mountain so that he could find something to fill his gut. He passed by the now familiar creek that cut through part of the woods but he did not stop; his heavy steps carried him between the red-cast trees and down the steep hillside until he came to a narrow plateau of stone cutting cleanly from the wood - and from here he could see down in to the western wasteland of the moors.
He caught sight of a familiar figure too. The rogue that he'd intercepted upon the mountain seemed to be loitering a little longer upon the mountainside — that shouldn't have bothered him as much as it did. Tulimaq felt an ember of ire ignite in his gut and lunged from the ridge, cutting his way through the forest with a distinct lack of subtlety, intent on driving the stranger away. That was, until he caught sight of an oddly proportioned shape hulking through the ferns and snow; it squealed and charged away from the rogue, in to Tulimaq's path, but the warrior had never seen swine before and, somewhat dumbly, chose to bare his teeth and snarl rather than give chase.
the wildcat followed the hog into the thick cut of trees with a lean-limbed prowl that carried him swiftly enough not to alert the animal of it's shadow. tusk had imagined that he was doing a fine job of tailing after his mark until he heard the fumbling of stones and the sharp breath of a snarl. with cupped ears and a callous expression, the cur halted his limber frame in its tracks. it was then that his dull yellow gaze caught sight of a familiar shape; the same creature he had met on the mountain not long before. surely, the other wolf would not allow for the prized meal to escape into the thick of the wood. tusk met him with a surly expression, unsure as to why the wolf would not act on instinct and spring forward with gaping jaws.
it seemed instead that the other fellow snapped his teeth and snarled. the hog reacted with wild eyes and kicked rocks before planting itself between the two wolves. tusk made his figure less imposing and hunkered toward the earth with an arched back that displayed a wild show of spiked hair. his crown was lowered closer to the earth to protect his throat from the weapons that jutted out of the prey animal's mouth. his lean limbs moved slowly – not lacking purpose – but with enough force to keep himself in the head of the fearful and violent creature. the dull lightless yellow of his gaze searched the other brute before fixating on the swine; he aimed to keep himself as a means to block any escape.
The creature was low to the earth, but had jutting angles that reminded Tulimaq of the very mountain that he crept across; a roach-backed creature with cloven toes and a triangular face, hardly any neck, and a round belly - all covered in coarse hair. He saw these things in flashes but didn't care much for the creature. It wasn't a deer but it seemed to be just as quick; it wasn't a beaver, but oddly, reminded Tulimaq of the giant rodents. Perhaps this was a relative.
He was snarling though, snapping his teeth, scaring the creature back towards the other wolf. It was grunting and squealing and making a god-awful show of its fears. He advanced upon it with a lack of timidity and with a rushing few steps, herded it with some insistence; but the pig didn't seem to be moving as fast as Tulimaq anticipated. It turned around and, brandishing curving tusks the likes of which he'd never seen before, made a stand-off that left Tulimaq perplexed. Prey did not fight back — prey ran, feeble and afraid.
The man found himself admiring his target more than he should've been, a fact he'd keep hidden lest he want to invite mockery.
bigger game was a sure sign of larger struggles for the hunter; the swine was proving as much. for all of the snarling and snapping that the other wolf offered, the prey animal seemed more intent on offering a display of his weapons. the pig lowered his head and pawed against the earth with a cloven hoof before tossing his crown upward in a gesture that threatened harm to any who would approach him at the front. tusk remained behind the brutish thing, holding his ground to wait for the moment of ideal timing. the other wolf was doing a fine job of keeping their mark occupied with his wild display of aggression. for the wildcat, it was all very much a part of the game that was needed to feed the hungry beast within them.
if it was not evident already, the pig was far more than feeble, and its fear was enough for it to demonstrate how it had survived on the back of such a rugged mountainside. there was something to be admired, certainly, as well as something to have been wary of. the wild boars of the hills did not last that long without having learned their way around wily predators. the pig was shocked that the wolf had blocked its path, but the wolf was also stunned by the brazen defiance of the animal. to tusk, it would have been a compelling fight to witness, but he was hungry and he grew bored of the games.
with a swift prowl forward, the savage took flight and found purchase in the back of the swine's neck. his teeth sank in as deep as was allowed, but tusk struggled to grasp against the boar with his limbs. claws digging deep, he attempted to ground himself against the flesh of the swine, sliding off near the creature's flank. still, he retained his grip with his fangs and shook his head violently. the pig had been overcome by shock for only a moment before it kicked against him and swung its head wildly from side to side. without aid, tusk was likely to lose several of his teeth in the scramble.
It would be a true test of one's abilities if they could take down such a volatile opponent, he thinks; and almost on cue with that, the other wolf charges for the tusked creature and grappled with it. The scent of blood doesn't fill the air at first for Tusk is trying to pierce a thick hide lined with coarse hair, and Tulimaq moves in to distract - or to harrow - at the pig, thinking that might help. But the boar is flailing its tusked head and trying to fight off one attacker already. Tulimaq does not know how to approach this - and is running out of time - so he puts aside his tactics and lunges for the beast like a thing possessed. The pig was more violent than anything the man had ever tried to take down before, and he was left to gnash his teeth, snap at the creature's hocks, and try to avoid that swinging head.
the struggle with the boar was exhilarating enough that tusk all but forgot the premise of keeping his body secure. with a wild swing of the creature's skull, he felt the pierce of it's razor fang against his shoulder. the savage snarled into the coarse fur and flesh of the beast with a grunt; he shifted his position on top of it. once he had found a more ideal place for his limbs, the cur began to swing his head from side to side. it served little purpose other than to excite the prey animal and cause a great disturbance, but tusk wanted the beast to know who was in charge. it was in that moment that the mountaineer lunged forward with flashing teeth and began to battle against the hocks of the pig. satisfaction filled the wildcat to the brim of his jagged fur as he found footing against the earth. it was enough for him to throw his weight against the animal and topple it to its side. with that as an advantage, tusk released his hold on the back of the boar's neck and aimed to snap against the tender underside of its fleshy throat.
His snout was too blocky to be of use in this battle, the boar's limbs stout but powerful in equal measure, and moving with staccato steps to keep away from him. Soon enough the creature was too distracted by the snarling of Tusk and the lunge for its throat, allowing Tulimaq to grab at those hocks and tear at ligaments whenever he could grasp them between his teeth. He managed to get a strong enough hold on one limb and bite down, hearing the snap of bone and a great squeal — but he was away again, circling the boar along the alternate side and looking for another momentary lapse in its behavior that would allow for Tulimaq's assault. Tusk was going for the throat, and it was with great pride and expectation that the mountaineer watched, enjoying the spectacle. They would conquer this beast, and then they would gorge themselves.
since you mentioned u were dropping tulimaq... i suppose i'll write a conclusion to this. please let me know when you plan to bring him back because i've enjoyed these two.
it was there that he found his fangs sunk into the soft meat of the pig's throat. the animal released a squall of defiance before tusk clamped his jaw tightly and shook his skull from side to side. in a matter of moments, the creature ceased its movements and heaved one last pained breath into the winter air. once the battle had found a resolution, the two beasts fed themselves full and well. there were only two of them and the wildcat did not see a reason to withhold the hunger in his belly. he gorged until he was fat and pleased with their defiant brawl. the satisfaction was only heightened by the danger that had occurred. in the thick of their hunt, tusk had received a dangerous stab to his shoulder. the blood oozed down his lean limb and dried to the earthy colors of his coat. another scar for another victory; in time he would have forgotten about the wound. until then, the savage prowled with an uneven gait – it only served as a tale of his capability for future inquirers.