Wolf RPG

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After @Nyra had lead him to the territory of the Saints, Charles felt oddly out of place. He'd never been in an entirely new place; he had moved to Moonspear and then Firefly Glen with Leta, but that was with her. With his best friend. This was the first time, barring his little stay at Redhawk Caldera and the painful chase-off he had been given there, that he was on his own somewhere new. It felt weird.

Charles felt the urge to hide away and be on his own, but he also very much longed to find someone that.. well, someone that could be his friend. He'd left all of his new friends behind in Firefly Glen when he fled following the traumatic sight of the only two wolves he really, truly cared deeply for in his life getting torn to literal pieces in front of his eyes. Just thinking back to that event made Charles' brain fizzle and often he found himself quickly distracted with something else just so he wouldn't have to think about Osiris and Leta. Preferably ever again.

With Leta by his side he'd had the confidence to be the cool boy, but now that he was on his own, he found himself worried that he'd just be some scrub here again. He didn't want to be. He wanted to be, well, like he was in the Glen. He wanted to put others down so that he felt better — well, no, now that sounded bad, it wasn't like that — it was just that he needed to show others the confidence he didn't have so that they would believe it. If Firefly Glen had taught him anything (other than the fact that something was seriously, grievously wrong with himself), it was that you could definitely fake it 'til you made it. It had worked, at least until everything crumpled apart...

Charles walked around the Strath just kind of exploring his new home, which felt weird and suffocating with how walled in it was and he found himself unsure if he'd made the right choice to go here. But well, he wasn't sure that he could leave now. At least they had fed him; that was a good start.
She stalked the male keeping her practised footsteps light and as silent as she could. Her dark form ghosted through the shadows though her white blue eyes held fast to his form, eyeing him taking in his masculine form.

Here was yet another new pack member, though this one looked almost like she felt. She felt claustrophobic within the strath, though she still could not figure out if that were due to the walls of the cliff or idea of the pack itself. She had not really been part of a pack before she had become a saint.

She licked her lips and crouched lower, drawing closer, as quiet as wolvenly possible. She wondered if her distinctly feminine scent the one that called every male for miles to let them know a female was ready would give her away. She wouldn't have pups, that was not her goal in life not that her body understood that. She grinned as the wind blew into her face, nope he'd not know she was there not until....

The black wraith darting forward the last 6 feet suddenly and pounced planning on landing on his back. Her body language was not aggressive, her maw was not even open for a grab but rather she hoped of knock him off guard.

It never occurred to her though this might turn into and all out brawl, if he chose to turn and attack. She certainly would have attacked outright in response to an assault like this if she were in his paws.
There was a funny scent in the air, Charles realised as he wandered the territory of his new home. A scent that made him feel things. Mostly it made him feel uncomfortable; sort of as if he was supposed to feel something but he just wasn't getting it. Something other than uncomfortable, anyway.

He had an unheimlich feeling about him, as if something bad was going to happen. It caused a twist in his stomach. Charles was alert because of that, but not alert enough to notice the female's approach; only the scent encroaching on him. Every time he looked around he saw nothing.

At this point the coywolf felt as though something bad would happen for sure. Someone would come at him and tear him apart. A part of him longed for it to happen, especially because the anticipation of it happening was too much. It reminded him of.. of Osiris, of Riley, of Bronco's mom — of all these wolves who had threatened him but hadn't really hurt him.

The insisting urge to start chewing on himself and hurt himself was growing louder and louder. It brought him into his own head, and so by the time she pounced Charles had almost forgotten already about the feeling at the root of all of this: the scent and the impending feeling of doom.

When she pounced, he screamed a loud AHHHH! as he was completely caught unawares (even though he totally shouldn't have been). He definitely didn't fight back; instead, Charles limply fell to the ground almost as if she had tore his legs from underneath him, finding himself completely immobilised in the face of fear.
I apologize for the shortness my muse went to sleep, I'll make sure to kick her awake for the next post

Whrist fell with him, not expecting to take him all the way to the ground. Her bright laughter pealed skyward and she licked his ear "Gotcha" She chanted silkily into his lobe.

Rather then climb off of him and give him space, She remained on him her body covering his. "Want to go again?" She offered playfully, mouthing his other ear gently. She was completely and utterly oblivious to any discomfort he might feel.

This overly playful and flirtatious behaviour was totally out of character for the black wraith and she knew it, but she also didn't care, she felt amazing and energetic which was more then she could say about her moods lately.
no need to apologize, nothing wrong with shorter posts <3

The coywolf quivered after he hit the ground in anticipation of the violence that would no doubt found its way to him now. Was this the end? Did he welcome it, or did he fear it? Charles was not too sure himself.

Confusion filled him when he realised she was laughing and then licked his ear. A different sort of sensation than what he expected -- and a part of him, perhaps, hoped for -- and it left his brain feverish with a desire for something darker to happen to him. It wasn't that he enjoyed the pain; it was just that his youth had wired his brain so that this was what was expected, what he deserved, and in some way, what he needed. The urge to repeat what he had done outside Redhawk Caldera - to tear his own face apart - was overwhelming, but he distracted himself with his present company.

She seemed in much higher spirits. Again? he asked, clearly confused. There went all his intentions to come off as the cool boy in this new pack, just like he had pulled off in Firefly Glen.

Get yourself together, Charles! he berated himself inwardly. Then he turned to the girl, who seemed bubbly and excited, and said, Yeah, sure, I'm always up for some uh, for a fight. He grinned as charmingly as he could muster, hoping he had her fooled, at least.

Fake it till you make it, after all.
Whrist was certainly in an odd mood especially for her, she had never felt so incredibly full of energy and she had to get it out somehow, and why not have fun in the mean time.

She grinned and nipped his ear then jumped off him, The coal black mistress spun around twice as if she were chasing her tail and took off toward the river laughing "Come and catch me!" She called as she ran. She hoped he'd give chase if not for any reason but to have company. She wondered if she had been in a better mood when she had met @Patroclus if things would have turned out better, or if she'd catch him by the stream the more the merrier in this moment in her mind at least 

It never crossed her mind that he might just let this crazy wolf run away and turn tail and run himself.
The scent was spread all around him, but it only further fueled his frustration and the uncomfortable feeling that he was the only one not part of some sort of inside joke. He suddenly realised that his mother had smelled like this year past, and she had attacked him for even coming close to her; she'd been in a much worse mood than usually. Perhaps that's why it made him feel so uncomfortable and, in some way, afraid.

This wolf was nothing like that, though; if anything, the opposite. She was extremely friendly and playful and all grins. Charles was beginning to calm down from being pounced so suddenly, and when she said that he should catch her, he grinned a lopsided grin and said, Yeah, sure, I'll come catch you! Having no idea of the implications such words might have.

The coywolf wagged his tail amicably and seemed to suddenly turn around again in terms of mood as he dashed after her. He wasn't good at a whole lot of things, but he was a pretty decent runner. Charles didn't realise there might be any danger if any other dudes caught wind of this scent (after all, it wasn't particularly enticing to him and certainly didn't give him the humps) and he happily followed after, a goofy but confident grin on his face.
She streaked toward the stream and laughed as he followed he wasn't fast enough he'd never catch her that way she spun a few times allowing him to get closer before she darted away, again paws splashing through the cold waters of the streams edge without a care in the world.

The black wraith ran toward a grassy spot that was mostly dry and then turned to face him her front end lower her back end raised in the universal language of come play with me!! She shifted back and forth waiting for him to pounce trying to figure out which way he'd come so could could paw tap him and continue to run. Her maw was parted and her tongue hung out just a little she was tiring fast this energetic play was not something she did often or at all really. Her white blue eyes focused on him begging him to play She was safe and happy in this moment of time and she needed this energy release more then she realized.
Speed was one of Charles' few strengths, but he didn't know the terrain here very well yet, and he felt hazed, confused and intimidated by the scents that lingered around the Saints' territory that day, so he never did quite catch her. Sometimes he could make a bit of a stretch and run, but most of the time he'd get caught off-guard by some piece of territory or another; a loose rock, a tree that he'd awkwardly bump into.

They came to a grassy patch at least. Charles prepared to set in a chase now that his paws finally found ground where he had some oversight, but before he could make a sprint she stopped, turned towards him and lowered her front to the ground.

While the language was universal, Charles had never really learned it very much. He always thought it was, like, a Leta thing to do. One of her quirks. He was starkly reminded of his dead best friend but shook his head to shake it off. Time to make an impression. Charles was adept at running (both in the metaphorical and real sense) so it didn't take long for his breathing to steady again and he bounced over to his new pack mate with a woof and approached her head-on. Charles jumped up and tried to playfully nip at her face during his landing.

He wanted to seem strong and confident in her eyes; ironically, not because of the scent, which kept him continually on edge and frightened him, but because he wanted to make a good first impression.
Somehow she had expected him to come at her from either side and so she failed to jump away in time earning her a well deserved nip, that didn't bother her in the least she spun around again but instead of running more she laughed and flopped on the ground panting trying to catch her breath, she could lope for hours content in a task, this burst of energy wore her out and she was loving it.

She lay on her back, Maw open, White teeth revealed while her tongue lolled comically to the side as she panted and looked up at him. "Whrist" she offered him between pants. she was not one for much talk on a good day and this was not a good day, though he'd never know it for the way she was acting.
She definitely seemed to have a good day. Charles felt a rush of victory when he managed to nip at her face and she then turned round and started to run again; he thought, anyway. Charles nearly tripped over her when she suddenly flopped down to the ground with a seemingly happy smile on her face.

Whrist, she said, and at first Charles just blinked dumbly, trying to figure out what she meant. Realising finally that it must be a name, he put forward his most charming smile and said, 'm Charles. Then he lay down on the ground as well — but stomach down — to rest for a moment. His body gently heaved back and forth from the exertion of the run while he panted to catch his breath.
Whirst didn’t feel the least bit vulnerable even though she lay on her back with practically a stranger. It may have been due to her heat coming on or it might be that she’d naturally liked him. She did get along with males better then females. She leaned her head back and attempted to gently nibble the thick ruff under Charles throat; she was hoping for some jaw sparing though she was getting tired enough to nap.
When she first touched his throat, Charles shouted Hey! and instinctively withdrew. A moment later he realised that her touch had not been aggressive, but soft, and he realised that he longed for that more than anything. He'd endured a lot of hate, had endured some pain and inflicted some more on himself when the hate was not followed by the expected pain, but he always missed the last part of the story. He always missed being cradled by his mother's side and being whispered how sorry she was, how much she loved him, how she would never do it again...

The coywolf realised suddenly that here was his opportunity and he leaned in again. Only after a moment did he also mouth back gently, hoping that would not stop the train of affection.
fade to black here I hope we can RP more, they are cute together so far

Whrist held her head against him, even when he snapped and tried to withdraw, She was more persistent then that, She waited patiently, like a good fishermen for her prize to nibble.
Where she found comfort she clung to it and she found herself liking this one more then she’d like to admit.

She'd been raised by wolves that attacked her constantly, rejected her from the moment her pitch black form slid from her white matriarch, she was only allow to nurse enough to stay alive and nothing more. As she grew the pack had only allowed her enough food to keep her from starving to death everything else, every kindness, every life lesson was denied her. She survived only because her genetic donors feared the gods should they kill her outright.

She was over-joyed when he decided to return her affection, the feel of their teeth clicking together was relaxing. And she played gently with him for as long as he would allow to soon though her burst of energy caught up with her, and the warmth of the sun on her belly lulled her into a contented sleep