Wolf RPG

The rain and the heat were relentless and oft not in tandem—where one would relent, even slightly, the other would build in. If they were not suffocating by way of sheer humidity beneath an unwavering sun, they were threatened to be swept away in immediate flooding where waters rose just as quickly as they receded. Such was the way of summers he had once known, but they were not as common here, and the complacency had given way to annoyance.

He was drenched, though hardly the first time in as many days.

A hunt forfeit in the lowlands, he was shepherded to higher grounds once more with a disheartened way about him, though his face betrayed his wallowing wandering; a grim annoyance had set itself in stone there as the water chiseled tracks along every jut and curve of sinew and bone. His feet were muddied by the time he had hit plateaued ground, by then his mind set in seeking @Hydra. The rain did little to change their routine—he knew she would be looking after the children.

While she was with the children today, she had her mate canvas the territory to see what he could find on the northern side of it. She had seen evidence of prey movement from above... but to where? It was best to keep track of it for future hunts, and in favor of being with the children for a time and taking them off her husbands hands she determined to have him see what things looked like elsewhere around the surrounding territories. 

Hydra was presently teaching her cubs the art of fighting in the rain, and how to best maintain ones footing in the unexpected element that could often betray even the most adept of warriors. Hydra demonstrated by distributing the same weight she normally might to stop a charge, though skid a few extra feet nearer to @Caelum and @Altair, effectively spraying them with water and mud alike. The error brought me closer than I might have liked, leaving different areas upon me vulnerable that I might not have been prepared to protect were I nonethewiser to this... she explained, drawing her boys near to clean up where she had dirtied with determined teeth that were impossible to evade; their father was their saving grace as she heard his heavy plod, and in the backdrop was @Lyra. Looking to @Mira and @Mintaka as well, she suggested: sneak attack, and then, I do not think she is paying attention. She was, of course... their own secret, mute language was observed as Hydra turned to regard her honey-eyed husband. 

He did not look pleased, she noted. While Hydra did not mind the rain, she drifted toward an overhang nearby that would shelter them for a time, moving to nose him hello before heading in that direction so they might rest somewhere dry, for once.

The venture to the overhang was in silence; he put up a less displeased front in the company of their children, though the friendly wave of their tails was quickly chased away by the desire to get the drop on the better actor in the group presently. Someone squealed behind them as they turned away, but he did not look back to find who for the playful growling that filled the void.

He admired their energy—slogging around in the muck and mire available to them at that present moment had begun to wear into him despite his better attempts.

“The lowlands are flooding again,” he told his wife wearily.

At least for the most part they all had the smarts to stay out of it when it did. Once a torrent started and the water gained a modicum of sense to move, none of them had any interest in finding out where it went exactly. Barring the children, if he had to suspect, but it had been no feat to keep them contained to an area they knew best.

“But, if the rain ever stops we’ll have decent grounds to hunt in. It’s washing out the undergrowth for us and the sight lines are good.”

His information was answered, firstly, with a frustrated huff. The world rioted the absence of Amekaze and Charon, she fantasized—but she knew the truth of it. Nature was an unpredictable thing, and as of late she was oft crueler than she was not. They had a pleasant enough Summer, but Fall was fast on its heels and Winter, she imagined, would be here sooner than later. The rain, which felt ceaseless now, had no end in sight or scent. Temporary bouts of reprieve were just that: temporary. 

Dirge brought good news with it, as he spoke of hunts... Hydra settled, lowering onto her haunches to sit for a moment. She closed her eyes and listened to the humdrum of the rain, and beyond that their children... coupled with the sound of her husbands breathing, things felt peaceful for a brief, wonderful moment. Opening her eyes brought her back to, and her gaze shifted to Dirge to behold him. 

Handsome, as ever, even despite the weary look he wore. Perhaps all the more handsome for it. Gone were the days of their stress free youth; the two, together, carried the weight of Moonspear and its inhabitants upon their back. It was an impressive feat, their deeds here no less impressive as they worked toward continuing an already brilliant legacy. And the obstacles they faced were the greatest Hydra had ever known in her lifetime thus far: famine, the world quite literally splitting at the seams... and now, this. 

They would make it through this too. Hydra was careful not to let her confidence in that err toward arrogance, but at the very least they had the mind for it. 

I had seen some prey move up, she hummed, informing him of her observations, though I have had yet to pursue it. I wondered if they still might linger below, or if they had the same sense of things as I do. The rain... I do not think it will be stopping any time soon, she licked her chops and continued, we should be fine upon the mountain, so long as prey does make its way here. We are high enough even where we are now, and we can always go up. But we would not be the only things. No doubt prey and predator alike might have the same idea, she recognized, gaze shifting toward her cubs. And that was not even the half of it, but she would get to the rest. One thing at a time... and first, this.

"May be worth ensuring we can find safe passage across the flooding then," he rejoined. His gaze had taken to scanning the stony outcropping, but it seemed no worse for wear. "Perhaps I'll do that next." His addition was hushed as he looked to her, only then to follow her gaze as she surveyed their children.

Like the year before, the youngest of their brood grew. Wild and unharried by the changes in the world around them, he found a certain envy in their ability to be ignorant of the hazards that laid beyond their esteemed keep. For every stroke of bravado in their actions, he wondered how long they would be kept contained.

"And if safe passage can be found, we can hunt where the prey goes," he continued, picking up where he had trailed. "Then our concern will be keeping them from venturing too far."

She found herself nodding, agreeing with him; it would be good for him to do so and see what could be found. He was a skilled ranger, and she was more than confident in his abilities. If any could find a decent route for safe passage beyond those born to the place, it would be him who may as well have been at this rate; Dirge had lived here for several good years himself, after all, and just as the rest of them had, he had carved many a good trail here. 

His gaze was upon the cubs now, and Hydra shifted in her seat to move nearer to him. There is more news. More unsavory wolves have come to be, I am told. Not near to us, but they have caused trouble with our neighbors it sounds like... our allies, too, she recalled. With the others surely still about, no doubt they might find one another. Like calls to like, after all, she drawled, looking to him with a wan grin. The grim look in her eye revealed exactly her thoughts: I should have went and killed the first of their kind when I first heard of it... Nature had not done what she had hoped. Surely they also expanded their legacy—which would inevitably lead to more trouble, once she did as she desired. The world had become all the more dangerous.

Her words grew his gaze away; it would have seemed a darker cloud lingered on their horizon than just the rain clouds. He tired of this too, but many political things and their ilk were tiring. But they could not afford to be ignorant to the evils that lurked in the shadow of their mountain—evils he wondered could have ever been avoided if only he had stayed moving.

It was a fleeting thought.

"Where?" How close could this unsavory lot be? Or perhaps such knowledge she did not know, but he had his doubts that Hydra had not shied away from obtaining such information.

The Northern mountains, if rumor is to be believed, she drawled, remembering all the facts told to her as they had been delivered. The matriach sighed. We should train, and be ready to defend. Attack, if need be. Part of me just wishes to wipe them from the map like the scum that they are. Leave them, and they might only grow, her muzzle wrinkled. Kill them? Remove the threat entirely. It sounded easy, in theory, but Hydra knew a great deal more went into these things than simply that. 

But, she would work hard to see it done. Train endlessly if it meant their ruin. She peered to Dirge, though, knowing his mind was more sound than her own that was all too ready for war. She leaned toward him and sighed against a velvety eartip, I just do not want for them to grow and be a threat to our children... past, present, or future, a twinkle in her eye then and there, but she pressed on, still. I will not be hasty, and I would appreciate your own wisdom on the matter.

He sighed. Like the endless rain, he was tired of threats being dangled just out of their reach. While the wolves that had attacked them proved their cowardice by staying out of sight and out of mind, perhaps even near faceless now, there always seemed to be one more to fill those shoes they left behind. He wanted to believe there was more to holding a territory than just constantly defending one’s homestead from repeat attacks and warnings, but maybe there really wasn’t.

Moonspear had long been pockmarked by things that dared to try and undo its existence.

“I would rather us defend than stretch ourselves too thin. We’ll always have the advantage close to home, and the rain will see to aid us in that regard,” he said finally, gaze still distant. He didn’t care to go marching off for a useless war on some perceived threat, even if Hydra had it on good authority that these unsavory sorts were in fact a threat at all. To him, it seemed more of the same; an annoyance to fluster them and make them draw lines and attention to themselves.

“But, it would be good to know how many wolves we’re talking about. A small roving band holding a parcel of land might be worth driving away, but if they’ve numbers backing them…” he trailed, an indecisive breath leaving him. He doubted that he needed to explain his reluctance to her again. Their allies were also spread thin and with the dissolution of their closest ones a not so distant memory, it was more than uncomfortable to ponder.

Which, on that note, he wondered aloud: “I suppose it is possible some of our old friends may have thrown in with them, isn’t it?” It made more sense that it would have her rankled on that point; their old allies walked a fine line between savory and unsavory, and plenty had been shared between them.

I, too, would rather stay home and defend. But our children... if they take after their father any, they might wish to wander. These wolves kidnapped an adult wolf, and I do not know what all was done to her, she sighed. But Donovan, truthfully, was not her priority. He was a blip upon her radar... but knowing of him, knowing of him brought back to life old convictions.

Wolves of that nature are chaotic, but do not thrive in their own chaos. I have but two I truly wish to remove from the picture, she drawled, gaze drifting from him to her blunted claws, scraping them idly against the slick rock as though to sharpen them. The one who hurt our son, and the only wolf who might avenge her. Her lifelong companion, she informed, ear twitching. Sighing aloud, Hydra humored, though they may have gathered at least one or two more that would die for them, she huffed, imagining she ought to be prepared for that. Those two remain to be found, though, she hummed. At least, at this point. But the Saints... they sound terribly alike, in their indecency, she considered. 

As far as their old friends, Hydra grinned. Could be, she hummed, but then, our old friends know better than most who has always outlived the rest. And more than that, how we deal with those that cross us. In that, she was certain that Moonspear would be left well enough alone by the Saints. The truth of it was it was not them Hydra wanted, but she imagined they might lead her to who she wished to find and truly put an end to.

An agreeable noise lodged in his throat for a moment—yes, those that would cross them would learn how steep the price would be to pay. One way or another, at least, whether by the jaws of their own or simply the will of the wild around them. In the end, perhaps it would not matter as one day they would all simply cease to exist. He did not think of this now.

“Our children know if they wander that we cannot be there to protect them,” he reasoned instead, hung up on that one caveat. This he did not worry of much, even though evils had lurked and fallen not far outside their door. “I do not worry of that so much as I do the season ahead, and this rain… perhaps a better wording would be to consider pooling our resources close to home so that we are better equip to strike when the time come. Should it come,” he went on thoughtfully, though pensive.

Perhaps it was cold of him to consider such things.

“Either way, you are correct to not be hasty. We’ll have to keep an eye on them.”

He was right there, of course. They knew the consequences. But it was Hydra who was not ready to see the result of them should something come to pass and anything happen to them. They were too young still, to her, to be struck by the evil that existed in their world. But she and Dirge had done their best to guide them to know better than to act on impulse, and ideally, they would not go without someone there or ever letting she and/or he know, otherwise. 

That we can do, she agreed, thinking it a smart thing to do as a whole, and we shall try our best to do so. Their eyes could not be everywhere as it stood, though Hydra had gained several friends who would report to her on these things she was sure. Her gaze shifted toward their children, who seemed quite unbothered by the rain at least. Moving to lay, Hydra nipped at her mates hock to encourage him to join her. Much had went on, but at the very least they could rest together for a short while. 

Beside her he slid to a supine state, his snout for a moment lodged in the downy furs just behind her ear. A comforting touch, much for her as it was for him. This had all give him much to think about and he would as they laid there, though his gaze long settled on the youngest of their children.

He thought it a shame that they had to worry about such things in the world for their sake, and though he wouldn’t have traded them for a thing, he found their existence to add to a list of complications that came with all he had amassed. Perhaps such was the trials of holding such a particular station in a long-lived pack, but he did not believe their prestige to be worthy of repeated targeting. But he also believed that they would prevail regardless; they were shrewd intellectuals, more than just the brawn they possessed in number alone.

He set his head against his legs and sighed contently; there was much to still ponder.

Dirge merely wanted to live in the moment, for now.