in the cold afternoon, the stormrift creature searched for
@Rannveig, picking up the trail of his brother's scent where it led toward the shores inhabited by the lowing sea-cattle. the wolf kept his distance from them, however; he was alone and not keen on being wounded.
taking up a position not far from the nearest herd, the boy lifted his muzzle to the air and began to count the beasts, more out of boredom than anything. still, perhaps having a number of the ill-tempered, dangerous brutes might serve someone, perhaps ford. and so velen focused, keeping himself distant and wary.
rannveig had eyed each of the lowing beasts earlier that morn, blissfully wishing one of them would have the good sense to impale themselves on a rocky outreach, or suddenly drop dead so a poor, handsome soul like him could eat.
turns out that method of hunting doesn't yield results, and rannveig was still grumbling hungrily to himself as he saw velen's form in the distance. his brother looked wary, maybe even thoughtful - something rannveig planned to change as he bounded over to the mahogany sibling, offered a cheeky tug of his brother's tail, and then ripped off with roaring laughter.
velen had damn near completed his headcount when a sharp pain rippled through his hindquarters, not enough to be agonizing, but it brought a spate of annoyance all the same. this faded, however, when rannveig's mad-hatter cackling trailed through the air immediately thereafter. teeth flashed in a grin; in the next moment, velen had slipped easily into a headlong run after his brother's bobbing haunches, intending not only to yank rannveig's tail harder, but knock him to the seawet earth of his luck allowed.
the sun shone down upon the racing pair, and seemed to warm at the sight of their antics.
rannveig hadn't witnessed the aftermath of his nip -- but if he had, he would have cackled all the louder.
as the pair galloped down the strand, velen closed the distance -- rannveig kept his tail absurdly tucked under his body, which in turn shortened his stride.
a fatal error, as velen was upon him like a vengeful demon. he felt a sharp tug and then lost his balance, cartwheeling through the air in a spectacular display of unbalance. landing in the sand like a hurled rock, rannveig grunted and thudded to a stop, sand lining his features and gums as he grinned and awaited velen's second approach.
a critical hit: rannveig totally ate it on the beach, and it was velen's turn to cackle. ever good-natured, however, his storm-brother smirked through a thin covering of sand. velen's tail lashed behind him; he cast a wry semicircle before lunging for the side of rannveig's neck, hoping to catch and worry the fur there. he hoped to incite his littermate to a riotous show of brawn.
hey man, losers weepers.
there were many things rannveig enjoyed eating -- but beach wasn't one of them. despite that, he kept a grin on his features, watching as his brother circled around him like a land shark.
velen lunged for his neck, but rannveig was tensed and ready. he sprung from the ground in time for velen's jaws to snap at his neck. rannveig wouldn't take that insult standing -- with a playful growl, he swung his head for velen's shoulders, hoping to plumb bowl his brother over.
oof — rannveig was a true battering ram when he wanted to be, and velen caught the brunt of it. with a low grunt, he was knocked easily to the ground.
but velen was not about to surrender — he swung his foreleg, hoping to trip his brother into a heap where they could both begin to truly wrestle.
rannveig's determined features split into a grin to see his aim hit home -- only, the rolicking sensation caused a ripple through his spine, and the brute was momentarily made senseless by the impact.
just long enough for a dart of velen's long limb, and just long enough for rannveig to be ensnared...
so he fell, like goliath toppled -- tumbling hind over fore into the sand as he went. he grappled for anything he could, and when velen whirled into his sights he gave a hearty rabbit's-kick with his hinds, wrastling as best he could despite being clean cartwheeled in the process.
again, rannveig landed a hard hit. it was unfair, given the fact that he had fallen first, but velen recovered quickly and lunged, low against the sand. he sought to encircle his brother with his lanky forelegs, jaws coming close to savage the thickly-furred underbelly. this was how they had played all their lives, savages out for the blood of one another, and velen relished their feral game.
to some, their play appeared rough -- but to rannveig, it was envigorating. such fierce battling, when the stakes were high and the spar harsh, sharpened his fighting prowess beyond what gentle tutelage ever could fashion.
as he slammed into the ground, his belly was exposed and velen exhibited no hesitance in exploiting the boy's brief vulnernability. with a yell, rannveig writhed away from the painful bite, his absurdly large paws attempting to clapse around velen's face and push him hard away. "WHOA! DANGER ZONE," he hollered, worming underneath his brother with wild wrenches of his frame.
gnawing ferociously at rannveig's underbelly, velen was caught 'round the face and thrust away as his brother arched beneath him like a warhorse. "wasn't about to bite your nuts," the ceto shouted back, laughing wildly as his jaws snapped for rannveig's waving paws. "but it's not like you're using them anyway, nyah!"
having successfully insulted his brother's masculinity, the boy ducked his head and sought to grab one of the flailing forelegs in his jaws, throat reverberating with a growl.
rannveing thrust himself out from under velen, only to be quickly crushed by the wit of his brother's acerbic tongue. no fair -- rannveig was using his proudly swole family jewels -- and he wanted to say so, only, mona was a secret kept close to his heart.. as if by guarding the knowledge of her and their union, he was somehow keeping her from the follies and insiduous claws of the world.
he huffed, having no rebuke and even less of a defense as velen grappled for a free limb. "EUUUYAAHGGH." he hollered, suddenly bolting upright as much as he was able given his current position -- "EAT SAND!" came his impudent command, followed by a wave of sand being rudely swiped in velen's direction.
rannveig did not rebut with a wry twisting of words; rather velen closed his eyes just in time to have his face pocket-sanded by the resident dale gribble of stormrift. spitting out a good deal of grit, he gagged on the few particles that had made it to his throat by way of his gaping piehole, formerly used to tease his brother.
and when he had composed himself, velen lunged in the direction he thought rannveig to be, expecting the other to have used the diversion like a magician's smoke as a way to disappear.
rannveig's tactice, rude as they come, had the exact response he had hoped for -- minus a bit of dramatic choking. with an impish grin he managed to free himself from his brother's hounding teeth, and was just about to go for a second swipe when he was knocked to the side by his brother's lunge.
![[Image: tenor.gif]](https://media.tenor.com/images/b99e4d3df2c5ee5e5533a0f8c46a96bc/tenor.gif)
he fell over, quite theatrically too -- knocked aside like mom's favorite vase during roughhousing. with a grunt rannveig tried to steady himself on his four legs again, nibbling velen's legs or stomach or neck or whatever to hopefully fend himself from his clearly possessed brother.
shall we fade this and have another? <3
velen pounced on his sibling with a loud whoop that echoed across the strand, earning himself a bit of a titty-pinching bite as rannveig snapped wildly at whatever part of his bro could be found. "whoa, okay, okay, okay!" velen yelped, pulling away from the downed wolf. "ya win. leggo." f course, it was only a temporary ceasefire; he squatted some feet away and glared balefully at rannveig with a mischevious smile lighting his face.
<3
the second a ceasefire was announced rannveig flounced to the ground, flopping like a flounder in the sand. the self-same grin that threatened to break velen’s composure spilled winsomely across rannveig’s features, a good-natured grin in light of their play.
alright, but only to eat. then you’re getting your ass kicked.
he rose and romped towards the cache, pulling enough for both he and his brother and gorging with the unphased appetite only rough play could bring. they’d eat, and the true to his word, rannveig would square a hefty nip at velen’s flank before cackling as he galloped away down the beach.