Wolf RPG

Gray clouds blanketed the sky that day. A morning similar to the latter of November, only colder in comparison. His instincts told him that snow was upon them. And so, he had begun to focus his efforts on preparation for the winter. This day was nothing special—a continuation of said efforts. 

Tracking the scent of deer had led him to the Keep. Distant, raucous squawks distracted him from the task of tracking it. Intrigued, the man listened, and followed the sound in mere curiosity. It grew louder—almost annoyingly so—as he approached. There, he could see where the source of the noise emanated from; the cliffside ahead. He drew nearer, eyeing the forms of birds which swept through the skies. Some were airborne, while some came to land upon the steep face of the rocky hillside. The outcrop itself was quite tall, causing him to tilt his head up in order to take it all in. The birds had built their nests on the precarious cliff-face, nestled in the various crevices which were naturally carved into the surface. 

All the clamor was a sight to see. He sat back, casually observing.

Birds were often the source of a good meal. She knew they had a kinship with wolves for a long time. If a bird was nearby, or several, she typically knew there was prey fallen. Coming closer to where the avians squawked and took to the air, a dark cloud in their own right, she found another wolf. Wren tilted her head slightly as she approached.

"Hey there" the brunette said, wondering if... no. No, he wasn't part of Kingslend. He may be a brown wolf like herself, but he did not carry the pack scent. Still, she cracked a smile. "I guess you were following the deer too?" and got distracted by this sight. Wren approached cautiously, coming up behind him but keeping her distance. She appeared friendly enough to the man.

But no telling if shit goes down.

The birds’ loud cries had mostly concealed the woman’s sound of approach. Her voice caught him off-guard; an unexpected surprise.

His tattered ears perked as he turned his head to look at her. She was a lithe, chocolate colored form—someone he didn’t recognize. Her gait wasn’t hostile in nature, simply passive. He eased at this, and unhurriedly stood, turning to face her.

In regards to her assumption, she was right. Following was the extent of it though—time for a hunt wasn’t allocated into his schedule for the day, but he’d make room, if an opportunity presented itself. He didn’t think it would happen though, considering how far off from the Bay he had traveled. Stormbound, still young, could use all the numbers it could get. From the first impression, she potentially seemed like a good addition. Only if she was a loner, that was. First, he’d see what she wanted before contemplating such things.

Afternoon. He rumbles in response—his usual greeting. Yeah. What stopped’ya?

Tahoe listened to her words. Her mention of fish grabbed his attention the most. While not a seasoned fisherman himself, he was decent enough at the method. Umbra, based on her evaluations, seemed to value such a skill—he kept the thought in mind. Perhaps the Sealord would like this one. While not incredibly hungry, a hunt would be fulfilling. The woman suggested deer, which was certainly a good option, but he wanted to learn more about her before making a commitment. 

R’you any good at it? Fishin’? He asked.

"Yeah" she confirms, giving a nod of her head. "I was a hunter in my last pack - fishing fell to me and a few others. We lived by a vista, kinda like this coast." Old wounds sought to tear the way through the surface at the mention of it. She ruffled her neck fur against the cold wind coming from the ocean.

Wren goes on; "Sorry but... do you belong to a community?" She pauses, mulling over what Wraen had said. There were a few packs along the coast, but she had her heart set on Kingslend for now. "near here, I mean" as much as the man wanted to know about her, she wanted to know about him. "I can help you, uh, fish a bit?"

She grins slightly, wondering if she was overstepping. The experience would do her good.

Ah, so she had experience with living on the coast. He wondered what happened to her pack, but didn’t go out of his way to ask. 

I see. He answers. Yeah, the name’s Stormbound. We’re on the Bay. An’ you? The pack was still forming, but it was good to get the word out to those who were unaware. Her offer for a fishing trip was tempting, but he knew it would be more beneficial to bring down a deer instead. It was a change of pace—he had to get back in the mindset of thinking beyond his own needs. Maybe another time. 

Deer’s good enough—prob’ly easier too, if you’d like.

"Name's Wren" even if he hadn't given his name, she had no claim to Kingslend yet. She may or may not be part of the pack right now (timelines suck) so there was no point in going out of her way to proclaim that either. "I don't really live anywhere right now" she chuckles "still viewing my options, I guess."

The man went back to the deer, and she nodded. It would feed his pack, that's for sure. She could get away with maybe a leg as her penance. Though fishing came more naturally than land hunting, she knew how to chase and she knew how to bring down food. "Alright, then!" she laughs, walking past the man and further into the area "let's hunt a deer."

Tahoe. He answers in turn, offering his own name. What options’re you lookin’ at, Wren? In truth, he didn’t know the names of most packs which inhabited the area—hopefully Wren could tell him about some.  

He followed behind her, doing his best to ignore the noisy birds as he focused on finding the scent once again. Lead the way,

She chuckles a bit awkwardly. "There's coast packs, I guess" Wren says honestly as she leads the way like Tahoe suggested. Taking a sharp turn down a narrower path, she hops along the coast with ease. It's clear she's at least hunted along it before, but perhaps not the coast here. "I lived near a vista once."

She pauses, sniffing along the air and dirt before a nod. Picking up the pace again, she leads Tahoe further. "But maybe I'm stubborn" her voice lowers as she sees deer tracks "and don't want to be disappointed again. Last pack disbanded. Much as I love the ocean, I don't want to get attached." Not again. Not so soon.

Yeah. I get it. He mumbled. He could relate to her past—a past which he had buried long ago. There were no feelings attached with those memories, it ceased to bother him awhile back. Now, it wasn’t the time to exchange sob-stories. With winter comin’, it ain’t that good on the coast anyway. 

Wren navigated the terrain with ease. He tailed not far behind her, nostrils flaring as he hastily smelled the trail on which they traveled. Her demeanor changed as something caught her interest. Tahoe picked up on her cues and proceeded with caution—it was imperative to avoid making their presence known in the vicinity, a mere misstep could ruin the potential hunt.

The vista had been ample protection when she resided in her old pack. The coast was much more open, less shelter... She knew it'd be difficult. Wren couldn't help but agree, thankful Tahoe didn't ask so many questions. She might want to ask him a few but the hunt was on now.

Following the trail of an invisible scent, she could see in her mind's eye the deer taking off further down the coast. Crounching now, Wren gave a nod to Tahoe. She'd cut off the deer - she was smaller and could easily manuver around it - and he could speed at it.

And the deer? Well, it was just ahead. Nibbling on some stray foliage found along the shore.

Ungulates had always been the prey he was most familiar with. Despite now being a man of the coast, it was always a comfort to know that his skills were not completely useless in such a scenario. Along with other creatures, it seemed the herbivores were attracted to the lush grasses which grew alongside the beaches. While not their normal habitat, deer did happen to be found not too far from the sea. 

The deer they had found certainly looked to be indulging in a snack of its own. Tahoe nodded back at Wren, silently creeping to her side. Once she sprung, he would too.

She'd sneak around the deer, leaving Tahoe to face the deer head-on. With a gentle flick of her tail, she'd begin to stalk toward the herbivore. Her paws were light, her steps focused... if not for the faint rise and fall of her chest, she was still. Every time the deer looked up, she'd pause. Every time the deer looked down, she roamed closer.

Finally, she was around it. Her blues focused on Tahoe, giving a nod from her spot. She waited for him to herd the creature to her, so she could fall upon it with surprise. Kill it quickly. She didn't want it to suffer for her sake, but she needed to eat. Tahoe's people needed to eat. If she was religious, she would send a prayer.

But all she did was hope.

His pupils flicked between the idle deer—a singular doe—and Wren's agile form. Quietly, she advanced around their unsuspecting target. Once in place, she signaled she was ready.

He felt like he had done this a thousand times. The sequence of events was never the same, however.

Each step was carefully planned. Tahoe crept toward the deer, subconsciously holding his breath. The coastal flora was not the best cover. A shrub was where he lay in wait—serving as the point where he could go no closer without being spotted. To his dismay, the ungulate was becoming aware of the pair's plans. He observed as the creature clearly grew more alert; her posture stiffening as she started sniffing at the air, an unmistakable look of fear in her eyes. Tahoe knew their cover would be blown soon, it was time to act. He sprinted out from the sparse vegetation, which made the doe immediately run.
 
He hightailed it after the deer—who unknowingly fled in Wren’s general direction. It was up to her to react before it would speed past her.

She acted accordingly.

Hunger and drive were two separate things that oft cascaded into one. She was practiced, and ready, to meet the deer. Blood stained her muzzle as she hooked onto its neck, biting deep. Ending it's life before it could squeal in pain. She had leapt from the brush and onto it. Dragging it down with her.

Wren's grunt was the only noise. The deer had fallen silent moments earlier. Now she stood over their prize; a new body to add to the dead. "Pah" the brunette spat the neck out quietly, licking her lips. She waved her tail to Tahoe, letting him know it was fine to approach now.

Wren was much faster than he realized. With a well-aimed lunge, she had brought the deer down along with her, crushing its windpipe with her jaws. He'd expected the deer to put up more of a fight, rather than tumbling over like a newborn fawn. In a flash, it was over. He stood and watched as she dropped the limp carcass, then beckoned him over. With a nod, he joined her, examining their trophy. 

That was quick. Were his mumbled words of commendation to her. It was a notable feat to say the least. He flicked an ear and glanced over to her before beginning to tear open their kill. 

When finished, he'd dismember the carcass further. Wren would then get her share and probably be on her way. Unlike her, there would be more work for Tahoe. Under the remaining daylight, he'd have to make a few trips in order to cache the remains of the meal—which would then become his pack's. For now, he enjoyed the time to eat.

Wren felt it was best to leave, else she be subjected to talks of packs and the like. Though she suspected Tahoe had tact, she still didn't want to hear it. Time would come when she would leave the one she had chosen - for now, she would enjoy being part of something. However fleeting that would be.

With a nod, she would depart from his company. Tahoe was a good enough man in her eyes, but she was quite aware that the blood would attract predators - other wolves included. Some from his community, some not. She tore of a chunk of flesh herself and left it at that.

Probably not the most social woman, but ah well. "Nice hunting with you" she mumbled around the meat before flicking her tail, turning and leaving him be.