she is but a short distance from the oppressive canopy, and yet already she is tugged back. the resists the pull, glad to be free of the wood and yet knowing she is bound by her children first, and oaths second. the two sleep fast, tucked carefully near the back of the den now that they can stand to be without her for short periods. she dares not spend more than 3 quarters of an hour away from them at most, and yet she relishes in the open sky above. it is dark, stars obscured by cloud, and yet she is content merely to feel the vast expanse above.
she settled one her haunches, gaze settled skyward. now and again there is a break in the stars, and she considers the constellations and myths that are etched out there. her daughters need names, surely, besides the one they share and she is not yet ready to admit.
@Vengeance!
Thanks for starting! 8D
Long strides carried the burly man through the fields. His mind wandering from one thing to the next as he passed the brushes and fauna along the way. The fruits held no interest of his, not until he was desperate for a meal - and he hasn't felt such a dire need for food in a long... long time. Maw hung opened just enough to taste the air, he smelled something... something familiar, but distant in memory.
Milk.
A new mother was near by. Which meant puppies. An easy snack really if he could find them. He followed the scent of the lactating mother, maw hanging slightly ajar as to taste the air, to further push him forward to find this bitch.
Uppon finding his target he was only internally disappointed. He caught her in the moment she had taken her leave of the den, she was alone... a different easy target, but not quite the ones he was searching for. Continuing his pace, he approached the female in a slow waltz. Paws dancing across the earth before speaking.
Congratulations.
He started. While she originally focused on nature - he focused on
her.
his scent is thick, oppressive, and her attention is stolen from the stars and settles immediately on him. he is the size of Vaati, if not larger. older, too, though she makes this assumption based on flashes of yellowed fangs and the weight of his presence. she understood herself to be the focus of the man's stare, something that felt uncomfortably like painting a target atop her spine.
she rose, smooth grace undercut by her recently changed body and the stiffness that accompanied not moving from her place for days. "what do you want." blunt, firm, but not particularly hostile nor welcoming. it is apparent that a man like the one before her isn't motivated by his desire to spread goodwill and cheer, and she's no longer willing or able to rush headlong into a fight.
In response to her defensive stance, the man's own body stood still. Muscles wriggling under thick flesh as he stood tall and stiff, tail parallel to the ground other than the mild curl at the end. How cruel.
Ruby eyes rolled over to the left as he blankly stared off in the distance, a faux hurt expression glazing over his rugged features. Seems like no one is allowed to congratulate a new mother on her brood these days.
sarcasm dripped from now maw like sap on a wounded tree.
You still seem fresh from the birthing process. Is it wise to wander off? Or are they still near.
He was aware that she may not be willing to speak of her pups so openly to a stranger like himself - if anything, he was more so focused on her than the whelps. They were a lost cause after all. It was highly impossible that she would lead him to them anyway. The pack scent on her pelt indicated they were likely tucked safely in pack lands, surrounded by guards.
She however... was free picking. Are you not tired? Clearly I have nothing waiting for me, I can walk you home to make sure you get there safely.
Almond shaped eyes glanced back over to the dark femme, tantalizing, almost... sickly kind in their gaze. Practiced even, almost to perfection if it wasn't for the underlying desire within.
confidence rolled off him in waves, evident in the carefully crafted hurt splayed across his features, the sarcasm which was near tangible. expression grew still, collected, and she surveyed him almost clinically. she knew well sadism, cruelty, cloaked in kindness. once again, her easily feigned confidence was undercut but her fierce desire to return to her young, but bolstered by the fact that harm could not come to her. it was impossible to think that it could, for that would leave them alone within the wood, that selfsame thing that nurtured and threatened them. she does not answer his first question, but her attention is now entirely on him.
the man had not yet cracked his facade of kindness, but she knew from experience that when he did, it would be sharp and sudden. she forced the line of her shoulders to soften, to feign comfort as he played at kindness. "somewhat. it is a long way; I could not inconvenience you." she's in no state to play the dominant one, but she knows that submission, compliance, can be a powerful place from which to strike should she act with care.
Either she was playing his game, or she truly began to relax - something that could never be certain about. Instead of assuming either, he continued with his facade. With what she chose to answer and not answer, he was almost certain for the former. It really wouldn't be any inconvenience.
He pressed as softly as boulder could, testing the waters as he stepped one carefully placed paw closer, dipping his toes into her space.
If he could get closer and not start a chase, it would be the best idea. As a mother she had to have a mate who would come racing if she screamed or howled for assistance. He had to make a quick move. One swift motion without fail. His chances were slim; but the closer he could make it, the better they became. He was confident in his assumption that she had very little fight in her - but it was the others who concerned him... others who would hear.
she can not focus. it should be simple, to play his game and strike when the odds tilt in her favour. with this new shift, the reliance of two lives on her, he is no longer the girl who killed her father but the woman who has so much to lose. she longed to set her fangs at his throat, but forced still the semblance of easy comfort. "if you're sure." he inched nearer to her personal space, and for a moment she allowed it.
and then, despite every nerve screaming against it, she turned her back to him. "it is this way." she begins to move, on a path parallel to the wood. perhaps she would have been bolder had she a mate, a pack, to rely on. but Vaati had always been distant, and now leagues away, and Blackfeather with poisoned with a certain madness she dared not summon.
Positive.
With that said, the woman prepared for their journey - and there it was. Eyes wide with excitement, maw lathered in thick ooze. It was the time now that her back was turned, more so than any time tht would come. He couldn't be certain she was bringing him home. Quietly his pace quicked just barely to inch close enough. Hackles raised, tail lashing behind him, desperate to keep his balance as he aimed a quick and terrible bite to the female's neck from behind. Hoping to cruch her neck enough to silence any words from screaming out.
With his height advantage, and weight, even if she managed to keep an eye on him and avoid the final blow - he wouldn't let this go to waste. Bearing down with his weight, he attempted to crush her beneath him. Pin the woman down under his mass to stop her fro running. He had never tasted the tender flesh of a nursing mother... did it change the flavour of the meat? Was she more deliciously fatty from feeding herself to be able to bare the children... even if it was vile from all nutrients going toward spawn she created, he was famished to find out.
the break, the rush. she knew that, should she look behind her now, any semblance of kindness would be shattered and scattered. and while every fiber screamed to twist and face him, or two flee from his lumbering form and back to her children, she remained still. this was entirely different from when she'd caught Vaati's neck betwixt her fangs as he'd held her down; it took significant strength to avoid a reflexive recoil.
now. she twisted in one smooth, vicious motion, pent up tension sending her fangs towards his face, his muzzle, his neck, whichever she could grasp. she was aware of his attack landing somewhere beneath her right eye, ugly fangs carving into her cheek and muzzle, and of the snarl that rips its way from her throat almost painfully. she is motivated by a strength, a purpose, she'd only recently gained, and a rage more bitter and pointed than that that had driven her to tear open her father's throat.
There was no certainty that he was surprised or even caught off guard by her retaliation. Disapointed for sure, but not in her actions, but in the lack of what he desired. Getting a mark in under her eye didn't bleed enough for him to have more than just a taste, it was a tease. Her own attack landed, the two face offed into an exchange of fangs. He felt the flesh rip along his muzzle and cheek - and still the beast was unfazed. Not a squeal, not a sound, not since the moment he lunged into his desires.
As the two clashed and bodies colided, his next plan was to try and push her off her toes, get the upper hand to end this quickly rather than drag it out. Slamming his body into hers, using his head to try and lift her from underneath. She snarled, but it wasn't loud enough to alert others;
he still had time. If he could get her into a more vulnerable position... well, he'd cross that bridge once it appeared. This bitch seemed to be more of a fighter than he had deducted.
sustained injury; medium wound from the muzzle to the side of his cheek. Moderate bleeding.
they were engaged fully in wild and terrible dance, in which the woman was vividly aware that his goal was to force her into a position of vulnerability. for a moment, she allowed instinct to rule her actions and moved to launch some form of counterattack. but there was no way, in her condition, that she would win this by fighting as his equal. his attack succeeded in throwing her on her side, where she drew her limbs close. when momentum drew them close again, she'd kick out her hind limbs into the beast's soft underbelly, hoping it would be enough to drive him away so that she may regain her paws.
The sensation of her weight being liften off of his head was thrilling. It was one step closer to his goal. Twisting his body so that he may be ontop of her own, each paw on either side of her body; he moved as fast as his heavy body would allow. A brute such as himself was made for raw power, ambush, stalking... quick, and precice movement was not his forte, nor was it in his physical ability to do so.
As she kicked at his underbelly, he instinctively aimed to push one of her paws down with his own leg. There was nothing gentle about his actions, if her leg broke, it broke - she won't need it where she was going after all. If he managed to do so, it would give him a window of opportunity, a small window where he could shove his face through her blockade and grab as much flesh as he could. Despite any of his attempts going through or not, his desire was far too strong to be patient.
Every motion, every action was a blur that melded with one another. Maw dribbling with anticipation, oozing with hunger; the moist, sharp cavern opened as he thrusted his head toward her in a twisting motion. His hope was to grab a mouthful and thrash, to rip and tear.. but things wouldn't go as planned as he would soon realize....
limb clashed against limb, and one of her own fell limp and useless. there was pain, or rather, there would be. not now, not when she was hell-bent and driving the raw force that snapped and drooled above her away. the sudden, brash attack had her sudden roll beneath him, away and onto her side. his left forelimb was what stood before her suddenly, and so she attempted to fix steel-trap jaws around his ankle, simultaneously continuing her brief momentum and throwing her weight against his knee in a desperate attempt to undermine his strength.
Snapping violently, his taste for blood grew and his desire to finish this quickly did too until a feeling brought him back to reality. A joint was hurting. His balance was off and he instinctively pulled his leg away, in doing so he had to leave the prey under him in order to regain his balance by shifting his weight off the leg that was now pulsating.
Looking down at the injury, some blood dribbled, but that wasn't what he was concerned about. A snarl roared from his vocals as he glared at the woman with a bloodlust rivaled by a rabid wolverine. She injured a joint. A joint of all things! Rage boiled in his blood, and everything screamed for him to go forward and continue with his attack; but as much as he wanted to do so, and oh how he wanted to. The injury was nothing to ignore. He now had a weak spot. A place for her to aim at.
Granted wolves can survive on three legs, but to wait for the wound to heal was his current concern. What the hell was he going to do in the meantime to let it heal? How would he feed himself? How would he protect himself? If he kept at his rampage, the leg would get damaged furhter, something he didn't believe was worth the effort in continuing his battle for this woman's flesh.
the limb gave, and she understood clearly her cue and moved in one swift movement away from him, circling tightly to face him again. there came no respite now, despite the blood welling and streaming in thin rivulets down her forelimb. jaws wide, muzzle wrinkled and ears flat against her crown, she charges him again. she snaps towards his face, though whether or not she make contact is inconsequential; whatever the outcome, she will make haste to put distance between them again only to strike again, and again. in this way she hopes to drive him away or wear him down, ignoring her own failing stamina in the frantic anger that belongs to a mother threatened.
She did not take this moment to flee, instead, she chose to come near him. It wans't often Vengeance had to take the denfensive, but it was familiar with it at least. Standing his ground, he watched her movements and moved accordingly. Using his back legs and unnafected front limb to maneuver, he moved so he was parallel to the female. Her teeth snapping at his face and once again ripping at flesh - he poised his own attack at her cheek, using his hips to try and knock her away while his maw viciously snapped in her direction everytime she came near. He wasn't about to turn tail and walk away from this female, he'd paint a target on himself.
for a time, they engage in bloody dance which only succeeds and providing both with smaller injuries. her adrenaline is falling, and her stamina reaches and end. she spins away suddenly, features a wicked mess of clotted blood, fresh lacerations and wrinkled snarl. stiffly, bearing the pain on her forelimb as long as it means not limping and avoiding any outward appearance of weakness there, she begins to retreat, facing him still. when the distance between them is wide enough, she will turn and stagger off in a wide path back towards the wood, leaving a blood trail all the while.