Wolf RPG

The panther's retreat from the mountain was slow and steady, although he kept a northerly path and lost his sense of time as he progressed. The forest swallowed him up; it was primarily without light, and he made his way carefully so as not to injure himself. He had no way of telling how long he hiked among those trees, nor how long he slept when the need for sleep came to claim him.

On a couple of occasions Raimo thought he recognized a path or a clearing, his mind reviving thoughts of Jakoul's body and the temporary greed that had possessed them both; it put him off travelling further, and so his route cleaved along the sheer edge of a plateau instead. He followed that until the trees thinned and he faced a mineral-salted slough.

As Raimo made his way across the more solid segments, those kept together by densely growing grasses and their roots, he watched the water. At times it looked shallow and still, mirroring the hazy gray of the sky. From time to time he thought he saw drifting lights; these were nothing more than bugs humming overhead. He knew not to press his luck with the water and did his best to avoid stepping in it.

The humming of those bugs continued for hours, and would strengthen regardless of the direction he chose. It dimmed to white noise around him, puncuated by the inconsistent warbling of the area's native bullfrogs. If it hadn't been so soggy Raimo might have enjoyed it.

Vein loved traipsing through the swamp, unconcerned for how filthy his white coat got. He found that bullfrogs given enough time to get use to his presence began to foolishly forget to fear him. His favourite kind of hunting trick; have the prey come to him. He snapped up and swallowed 1 bullfrog then 2 then 4 then 8 as he waded slowly, belly deep through the swamp. He lost count of how many he ate but it was somewhere in the number of lots and lots.

Eventually gave up on the unworthy creatures, though his last prey, sat live carefully cradled in his maw as he wanted to bring it back to his wife as fresh as possible. The over large white brute climbed up to higher ground still paying no mind for the dampness that squished through his paws.

He hummed along with the sound of the bugs looking for a tune to make in harmony with natures song as he began his journey back toward hideaway strath. When his eyes fell upon a stranger and a welcoming smile lit his face. He was about to speak but then remembered the cowering frog in his maw sitting terrified in a cage of teeth.


He lowered his head and spit the large frog out on it's back, then very gently rested his paw on it's belly pinning the creature there alive and well. It's legs flailing now and again in a futile attempt to right itself. With his captive for the moment subdued he spoke his deep rich tones "Hello, My friend I'm Vein, what brings you to this lovely swamp?"

The shape of the other wolf could have been anything. Raimo initially did not see it for what it was — a mass of mud among the grass, nothing beyond that — and would have remained oblivious had there not been the wet slap of the frog against the earth. His ears pivoted first and then the entirety of his concentration focused on that voice, that face.

There wasn't much white left on the wolf, so Raimo would not immediately deduce that they were pale in any way. More of a dingy yellow in some places, a sour green-brown everywhere else. Black where the shadows crossed with drying patches. A cursory series of sniffs did not bring Raimo much information either, only the acrid smell of the mire.

Watching the stranger was one thing, but Raimo found himself drawn to the frog struggling where it was pinned. Lovely isn't the word I'd use, he admitted, grimacing. Beyond that he had no answer, keeping any pertinent information to himself for the time being.

This was about the last place he'd expect another person to be, in all honesty.

He chuckled “On that I’d agree to disagree, How else is one supposed to hide their scent from unsuspecting prey, The less effort you have to put into the hunt the more energy you save” He waved his tail but winced and stopped when he heard mud plop to the ground in several locations, he must have been dirtier then he thought, not that he minded or cared “Then of course there is the need to bathe eventually” 

Vein had noticed the other was not in a sharing mood so he gave information more first in hopes to gain a name and perhaps something to converse about. Despite his vegabond attire; he did have a home and a warm place to sleep and eat.

He seemed enthusiastic, his jovial nature and smile did not falter. “I was just about to head back to my packs territory not to far away from here. Where are you heading my friend? Any particular destination in mind for today?” He didn’t need the information nor did he have any nefarious reason for it. He just enjoyed company, unlike, it would seem most other wolves the shaman wanted company and conversation. Being a healer at heart he did try to have decent social skills.

This stranger was a talkative one. He was reminded of Adrastus and Zane in equal measure; this young man was somewhere between the spectrum of the two. Not as strongly serious and not as antagonistic, so far anyway. Raimo gave him another appraising look in silence.

I was just about to head back to my pack's territory, the man divulged, and the pantherine figure was already turning his attention away from the mess; when the invitation came Raimo was mid-step.

Any particular destination in mind for today? The frog beneath him appeared to have given up its struggle. Still alive but no longer punching the air with much fervor.

The only destination that came to Raimo's mind was Kukutux' mountain. The grimace returned to his face at the thought, as he was already missing Moonglow — and the woman — just as she'd predicted.

Nothing in mind, no. He answered. You and your people... You live well, here in the swamp? Raimo didn't really care for an answer but he figured, with nothing else to do and nowhere to go, it wouldn't hurt to learn this man's story. It would serve as a distraction if nothing else.

Vein laughed whole heartedly "No not many of my pack come to the swamp, the only fool wolf crazy enough to come here is myself, an easy meal if one doesn’t mind the smell or the damp” Vein frowned down at the frog worried he might had killed it with fright, he lifted his paw and the thing didn’t move, he lowered his head and sniffed at it, if he had killed it accidentally he may as well eat it. That’s when the bullfrog flailed one last time, using Vein’s nose as leverage its webbed foot disappearing into Vein’s nare. The over large white brute reeled his head back and snorted to get the feeling of toes out of his nose. The frog jumped and landed back into the water to live and swim another day

Sun golden orbs glared at the ripples in the surface of the water where the frog swam away. Then his face softened and he chuckled softly “Humpf, deserves to live that one”


Nothing to distract him now he turned his attention to the male “You’d make a fine addition to our ranks if you want a pack to hunt with, My pack his in the hideaway strath over yonder”
He lifted his muddied muzzle in the general direction of the pack “We call ourselves the Saints”
Vein grinned toothily there wasn’t must saintly about his pack “If you find the Wolf skulls and the coyote and bear skulls you know you are close” He watched the lone wolf carefully wondering if that news would scare him away or draw him in

Is this what he had reduced himself to? Trolling a bog without reason and journeying away from a home he helped to build, to be joined by a fellow bachelor. Raimo had not considered where he might go after Moonglow; to be offered a home among a band of men who survived off of frogs and swamp water did not sit well with him; it was not right for his story, no matter how desperate he might feel.

Kukutux had said he would think of the mountain often. Try as he might to avoid it, she was right. Sort-of like telling someone not to think of a neon zebra on roller skates — it would immediately become unavoidable.

You offer a home to someone you just met? Raimo questions, his tone more lackluster, as he made this observation. The way the stranger spoke of these Saints painted them as beastly creatures, if anything. Willing to cull anything that crossed their path. It would be wise to keep clear of them in the future, Raimo considers — or to befriend them somehow, as that might reward him with connections and strength.

It was not strength that he lacked, but love. Connections did not matter much in quanity but quality to Raimo, chief among them was his eternal attachment to Kukutux. Could he swallow his pride and return to that woman's village? Perhaps he would be better off joining the rabble of men, he thinks; but he does not have an answer one way or the other.



The over large dirtied white male shifted his shoulders in a shrug, His deep voice rumbled from within "mmmhumm At least I thought I just did" He smiled conspiratorially at the male and winked .


"Seek me out anytime, especially if you are in need of a healer, that I am very good at.”  Without further adieu he bobbed his head respectfully then he trotted off slopping through the swamp with apparent ease and disregard for his cleanliness.