Wolf RPG

Full Version: Allow me to fulfill my duty
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When Corvus was given a task, he never disappointed. Still, catching squirrels was absolutely not his forte. He decided to take a short trip to the namesake of the mountain range he now called home: The Sunspire. There was a vaguely familiar pack of the same name that called this massive peak home, and he wondered why they chose to leave it. Ironic, seeing how vehemently against having his former pack settle in the vale they were. It seemed none of that mattered in the end, though.

When he arrived, Corvus took to investigating the area while keeping his senses keen to what could be his target. A fallen tree here, a strange rock there, and nothing out of the ordinary. If he were remembering correctly, Treason said something about a bear in the vale. Perhaps that was its downfall, but he couldn't know for sure. Whatever the reason, it didn't appear to be an issue any longer. That was good for Diaspora.

Changing his course of action, he began to focus on the task at hand: catch a red squirrel. He detected the faint crunching of snow, ears swiveling on their own accord to hone in on the direction of the disturbance. The wind was blowing in his direction, so he lifted his nose to determine if it were worth pursuing or not. Identifying it as squirrel, the shadow prowled nearer. But the rodent's wide-set eyes caught sight of his dark pelt against the pristine snow with ease, and it scurried up the nearest tree before he even got the chance to pursue it. With a disappointed huff, he moved on to the next.

Imprisoned, banished, into a nexus of my own design...
Now Time mocks me, and my sentence is Gravity.




She truly was no better at trying to snatch a meal than he was, and because of her eating so little, her body had needed less ages ago. That was how she kept so so light, kept so lithe and wispy. She still had the beauty of a dainty maiden, yet the witch would surely perish should a hard blow aim for her. She wasn’t meant to be a fighter - speed and nimbleness as precise as possible was her killer capablity. A needle could just as easily kill a man aswell as a crushed organ could.

She was nearby when her interest was pulled to the familiar dark male she had been traveling with. It was clear he was attempting to make a meal come about, or atleast a snack. The shade of a witch drifted to him with delight hidden in her bloody stare. Small game was easy enough to get, provided you were swift enough to snag one. 

The snow has crusted over.“ His crunching weight provided that insight to the witch as she made her calculations. Common occurrence, she had known and come across several instances where prey had gotten trapped in their own homes if they were unable to dig themselves free. This include most perfectly partridges. “Keep your sight awake for small hefts over the sea of white. It may be either a live or deceased bird or some other unlucky snowfowl. And depending on your quickness, you might be rewarded for your alertfulness and reaction time.”

She ventured a bit away from the raven, though remained in his peripheral as she bled between frosted trunks. She aimed for a partially hidden clearing, where several jumps of snow lay without tracks around them. 
A smile began to bloom on her face as she awaited her companion’s own finds.




But every sky will build my throne.

An sharp ear swiveled in the direction of Zafina's voice, and his snout followed suit. Corvus listened to her advice and nodded, appreciating the input. He knew how to hunt of course, and he wasn't terrible at it, but small game were tricky catches for him. He found large game easier, but that was perhaps because it was a joint effort that required strength and endurance — familiar skills, as opposed to catlike stealth and nimbleness.

I must kill a red squirrel, specifically. It's for a task, He explained, eyes already scanning the vicinity for any other potential meals. She branched off from him, going her own way through the trees to find her own prey. Corvus took a different route with his nose to the ground. After a while of silent tracking, it led him to another red-furred rodent. He slowed to a stop, observing more closely this time. It was preoccupied with digging up a little cache of its own, which proved to be a difficult task for such a small creature with how tightly-packed the snow was. Even after getting past that layer, it was a matter of clawing through the ice-hardened ground to get to its stash. Bad timing, rodent.

This was his opportunity. He lowered his body, creeping closer on stilt-like legs. Any moment the squirrel wasn't busy digging away at its cache was a moment Corvus was still as a statue. Flame-colored eyes burned into his quarry, and his muscles tightened. Then, he pounced, snagging the creature in his jaws. It was over in an instant with a sickening crunch. A wave of smug pride washed over him then, and it showed in his gait as he pranced over to Zafina with his prize dangling from his jaws by the tail.

Setting it down, he asked, What did you find?

Imprisoned, banished, into a nexus of my own design...
Now Time mocks me, and my sentence is Gravity.





The minx was flooded with the special prowess she had survived on for so many moons of this simple task, to know where animals lived, how they lived, and where they freely fled their homes upon need. Both predator and prey alike, Zafina knew it all, and the harbor of such knowledge was a generous gift as a Goddess, indeed. Yet utilyzing it was a trick that she hadn't been too masterful at, as she was still attemtping to understand the mechanics of being a mortal, let alone a lupine. Thus the paradox continued. 

She crept with clarity on the sea of cold white, garnet gems reflecting the hardened hump that sat just afront her - glorious dark ridged auds remained on the small mound as she surrounded her potential meal. Remaining excruciatingly careful to not break the before her, she crept closer until a sound stalled her form on a dime. She became a picture-perfect poise of patience as the flutter within the bulge natched her ear's fullest attention. The pupils in the heart of the garnets contracted as the light zoned directly to her, and they nearly grew alight in their own luminescence. 
Her thighs tenses under lavish fur, lean limbs contorting what muscles she had built up over her time on this plane, turning the beauty into a calulating killer within a matter of seconds. With that, a slight crouch over where she had previously stayed stoic, and with the impulse of a gunshot, the svelt body leapt upward, and came swishing down in a silent arc like a precise arrow. Forelimbs held before her, dark mottled fur swimming around her as though she swam in midair, everything jolted to an abrupt halt as the trekk had come to an end.

The snow had muffled the silent snap of thin and hollow bone, the white swimming down an open and gulping gullet swelling with bone shards and blood. No cheeps or shrill calls could scream for bring help or warn others of this murderess...

It was done.

Picking up the speckled white and grey partridge, she held the future meal in gentle jaws as she too swung herself around proudly. Dropping the bird before the pair of them, a joy settled in her hear, eviscerating her usually calm demeanor with a type of rare glee. 

"Just a partridge," she smiled at him. "But it will do fine."


But every sky will build my throne.