Wolf RPG

The scent of wolves upon the Spire might have vexed any other, though for Ikkalrok it was par for the course. She held no protectiveness over the territory in particular, nor desire to reclaim it or fight for it; there was also no residual disappointment there. Only the knowledge that she needed to forge ahead and find some other mountain to lay claim to. Sagtannet's own scent was strong enough where Ikkalrok did not see merit in usurping given the leaders diligence. Perhaps elsewhere might be easier.

But even that was not her priority.

Her compass spun, and spun. Her season encouraged her to do nothing but run. No male specimen in her travels thus far captured her attention. Too skinny, too lean. Where were her fellow bison hunters? The men that brought them down with their strong mothers and fathers? Ikkalrok only saw rabbitchasers and deerstalkers. But it did not dissuade her. Instinct guided her, and it had never led her astray.

The she-wolf paused within the dark forest, sniffing the air. The cacophony of foxes was not irksome to her; it was all simply nature, and this was not her territory. Ikkalrok tilted her head back and called to the wilds surrounding her, seeking a man proper—the volume of her cry quieted the din around her, and with a shake of her thick furs the mountaineer continued onward, rounded ears swiveling even as her nostrils flared to catch scent of any near that might have answered her call.

The valley was a realm of peace despite the residents within it; it was too quiet for him, and even though he passed some of the time taunting the boars as he crossed paths with them nothing was satisfying. All that he could think about was Kukutux — and when rage siezed him, he diverted the full brunt of that rage upon her partner. Displacement could only work for so long.

He took frequent trips outside of the range. Sometimes he would inform @Merrick but sometimes not — always, he would return. As protective as he had been over Moonspear in childhood, now he had turned his sights upon Bearclaw and the darkling who lorded over it. Revui might have failed Hydra, but he vowed not to fail the boy-king.

His latest excursion took him across the neighboring Wapun as he tracked a small herd of mule deer, most mothers with a fawn at their heel. They were distant enough to be dismissive of the prowling mountain; and he was not yet hungry enough to tempt the bucks among their ranks. As he moved along though, he came upon a dark patch of forest and his attention drifted from the herd to the depths within. He could hear something moving among the pines — but it must have been large and quite dark itself, as he could not discern its shape among the trees.

Then there came a call: most decidedly wolf, commanding and alluring in equal measure. Emboldened by this apparent summons, Revui launched in to a swaggering trot, on an intercept course.

On she traveled forward. She paused long enough to set her sights upon a doe, but she was not hungry; she had eaten, recently, and Tartok had a branch near enough to here that she felt no hunger upon her arrival to the Wilds. So on she continued to press. The winds brought to her the information that another was near, wolf in their scent and male in their musk. Ikkalrok continued on her path, thinking it might bring her to him, or he to her, making no mystery of her wandering. Liberally she stepped on tree-branch or leaf-litter, and at present her paw disrupted some errant puddle left behind from the previous days rain shower.

It would rain again soon, she detected with her nose, but that made no difference to her.

Ikkalrok saw a shadow near, and loosed a casual snort as she made way toward it. It looked like no small thing, and the only reason she slowed was to discern if the cut of it belonged to any sort of enemy; she was not so foolish as to sprint headlong into the jaws of another, and though she was a witless thing she was wise in the ways of battle. Making herself known, Ikkalrok's cold eyes sought the other out in the shadows they wandered in. Though she stood, stoic, she was not unapproachable. Simply as guarded as one ought to be among a stranger, but the interest there was one of a viable she-wolf looking for her match.

He thought it was a bear, at first. Something massive certainly, for it cleaved between the trees and made a great clamour as it moved. So far nothing could do such a thing except a bear (in his limited experience). There was no bear scent though, no heavy milk-musk as one might anticipate from a watchful mother, and no noises from cubs. The sweet notes of the woman's heat were overshadowed by the pinewood around him — though something akin to instinct drove him after the crashing tumult in the creature's wake.

As Revui came upon the thick stygian thing, he was unafraid. She turned to regard him with the same dismissive air as the sow of Bearclaw: I could break you, that look said. Then, a snort, and dismissal. She was cold, and did not approach for any sort of introduction, but neither did she bare her fangs or try to chase him off.

He stopped short when her silver gaze pierced him. She was an impressive creature: dense and luxurious fur spoke of good health, and while the shadows obscured much of her, he could not see any fresh scars, although there was an imperious manner about her — which partly reminded Revui of his own family; but where Hydra might have held a semblance of wit or at least a glimmer of love and recognition, there was only ice here.

As he paced nearer, he loosed a low, bestial note upon the wind. He was enamoured, in so far as he was capable.

Her gaze soon landed upon the wolf that she had sought.

Large, robust, he. Different than the other sorts she had encountered. And he had her attention as she did his; his low, crooning note was answered with one of her own. All instinct, this. She turned, hips swinging away as the wolf in her proestrus was receptive to his company in general and, more importantly, him. The large she-wolf approached him, no small critter. He looked strong, and like he could be fierce. Like he might have the spirit of a fighter within him as surely as she did.

Her tail did not yet wave behind her as she approached, reaching her nose out to gather the scents collected upon him. She was driven by a desire simply to be near him, for now, but that other feral inclination to know him this way, too, remained. She invited him to do the same, rumbling another low crooning note. The first thing Ikkalrok was able to deduce this way (so far) was that he slept in no hollowed tree here; where was home, then? Her gaze skirted about their surroundings, but there was no one around but for them it seemed... and the foxes, that had begun to resume their own noise-making.

Ikkalrok stepped aside to regard him openly, and gestured toward the sound of the foxes. Where before there had been no interest in taking one down, now came the desire to see what sort of hunting partner he would make. She darted several feet ahead and loosed another invitation: shall we hunt?

As she deigned to move closer he held himself still, curious to know if she would finally rebuke him as every woman so far had (Ying, Kukutux, his own sister—) and he felt heat where his blood flowed, the deep tha-thump of his heart resounding as if it could deafen all noise; but it was singular to him, and as nervous as Revui felt in this beast's presence, there was also awe, for none had made him feel this way before. He had always been impressed with the women in his family and held a strong desire for Kukutux even after her betrayal, but nothing as strong as this feeling now. He had no name for it—although it was a curse more than anything, and one that his father often fell victim to.

Lust.

A touch away from greed, it was. Revui had always been an insatiable creature and that had translated to entitlement more than anything, but not in this moment. He could not possess this woman any more than he could capture the earthen beast that caused the earth to quake. The sweetness in the air was stronger, growing more-so as they lingered together; soon he would be under her spell whether she meant to cast it or not.

Then, the foxes began their cajoling. An audience of displeased vermin shrieking from the safety of the dark; but when the bear-woman turned and prowled onward, Revui pushed off the twisted roots of the forest and plunged after her. He would happily spill blood on a good day, and was more than willing to sacrifice a host of bodies if it appeased her.

That he was willing to join her pleased her doubly; it was a difficult thing to do, that, but the season made her all the more susceptible to it. Her tail waved as she plunged ahead toward where the creatures yowled. There was a certain point in which she became quieter, and slipping neatly into the role of hunter that she had was a natural thing. Smaller game was not her forte; she was built for the takedown. The grabbing of the throat, or muzzle, and the strangulation with her vice-like grip and her heavy weight.

This would take more than one; she was not fleet-footed or swift. She was a veritable wrecking ball. Like him, she was a crocodile of a wolf that lie in wait to flush out her prey. Ikkalrok slowed further, moving just so that he could come up alongside her and see what she did. A pack of vermin just ahead, and she encouraged him to show her his prowess, her thick, leathery nose moving to press against his shoulder as her cool eyes observed him. She would follow him into the dark shadows ahead, but let him continue what she would start. What they might never end.

Was he following her deep in to the forest, or were they moving out to the meadow? He could not tell; his focus was on the way she moved, which was different from before, as if she had made her steps heavy to goad him out of hiding much like the foxes with their high voices; now as they ran her weighted movements became more practiced, and Revui was startled.

He blungeoned his way through the forest and could do nothing else—but somehow this woman was versed enough in the hunt to become pantherine, seeking out the chaos of the many shrieking vermin without disturbing much. He followed after, at least until she moved in a sudden arc and left Revui to race headlong through the scaffold of trees.

She was wolf, but her bearlike build made discretion... difficult. She had learned, for the sake of the hunt, how to tread lightly; though even that could hardly be compared to those of the average stature. It simply was not as reckless as it had been. Revui, though, demolished. That was her way in battle. Perhaps he might prefer to see her that way, as she so often was.

And so as he drove headlong and she continued around, several seconds later the bear of a wolf erupted from between the trees. One fled Revui, but no longer could with her interruption; Ikkalrok goaded it back into his jaws unless it found its way into hers, first. No, she would not let them, there was another that had her attention; a broad, bear-like paw slammed against it so that its only recourse was to rebound backward toward him while, as she regained her footing, her jaws sought to snare another that had attempted its escape in one pendulum like movement.

His plunge sent forth a wave of motion between the trees, like embers tossed from a fire that licked the air. As he narrowly dodged a branch that could have pierced his chest, Revui swayed sidelong against a broad stump - but he was already reacting to those fleeing bodies, and ignored the blow to his ribs. His belligerence was commonplace for him, and while the blow hurt he had fared with far worse. The flesh would bruise in the next day or so but none of that mattered as he hooked his teeth in to red fur and pulled, hearing the choked yowl of a fox defeated, then snapped at another, and watched as the bear-woman came down hard against the remaining few; those that did not scatter would be torn apart, their blood anointing the pair. It was, perhaps, the most fun Revui had ever had.

The two, for their time spent here, brought down their quarry with an effectiveness to be envied. It was easy, this, and natural. She had not been hungry to start, but by the end Ikkalrok was; she dug into one, eating her fill, and looking to him with bloodied chops to again invite him nearer, this time to sup with her. She breathed hard for their efforts, which lay in a sea of red around them. Blood and matted fur. Ikkalrok suspected she saw more grisly substance upon his shoulder, and removed herself from her meal to groom him.

She cared very little for appearances, but the grooming of her packmates and their grooming of her had ever made her feel closer to them; this, though, was far more a personal thing. Few had been permitted then, and perhaps here only he would be to do the same. Her large head pressed, then, against the spot she had groomed as though to say, you are mine. She had decided. Huffing, she withdrew to look at their successful endeavor. The Tartok woman felt she had chosen wisely. Looking back to him, her gaze simply seemed to ask, where to, now?

He answered promptly enough, and Ikkalrok followed him, keeping to his side—all the way to his home.