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Leto

Some mild, brief gore. Could suit both Bon Dye members or curious outsiders...

Leto felt a fierce pride at the birth of Bon Dye. It was not that she was overly familiar with the beliefs shared by Jinx and the few that seemed to have known her the longest--the Beta, the Gamma, and the Sigma female that had seemed half-unhinged whenever Leto saw her at a distance. Leto knew next to nothing of the bear gods they spoke of, and so it was not this--at least, not yet--that held her fast to her bond of loyalty to Bon Dye. Instead it was a simpler and more instinctual canine desire, that need to belong and, more importantly, to possess. Blackfoot Forest was theirs now, and within it, there was much to be done to secure and maintain the pack's ownership.

Leto was determined that she would not be outdone nor overshadowed as she had always been in Emerald Forest. No one here had made mention that she did not look entirely wolf, and no question of purebloodedness had been posed, but still she lived under the serpent of past experience and felt that she had more to prove than most. Always, she held herself to a higher standard than the rest, upholding the unrealistic expectations now that Rastaban Asterope was not there to do it for her. And so she slept little, in the first days of Bon Dye's existence, instead going on night-time jaunts to ensure their borders were not being breached, and to reinforce them with urine. She spent her days patrolling and becoming familiar with their chosen territory.

As time passed, Leto even took grimly to the apparently bear-inspired habit of some of the other wolves to smear things with animal blood, and this was her mission on one gusty afternoon that was sweeping the earliest of autumnal hued leaves from the boughs of trees. A fat squirrel's body hung limply from her jaws, and whenever she found a particularly good location, a quick slash of claws would open a new wound that oozed crimson blood, easily smeared onto rocks, trees, and earth. Presently, Leto dragged what was left of the tree-dwelling rodent's body across a fallen log.

The length of the once-great pine was impressive, sprawling out into the edges of Wapun Meadow, and Leto paused to look northward for a brief moment, her front paws lightly poised upon the log. There were other packs near; of this she was certain, and the one-year-old felt a stirring sense of mingled curiosity and caution regarding them. She'd only caught their scents sparingly on the wind, and knew nothing about any of them, but as nearly all else in the half-coyote's life, they would be perceived as a threat until proven otherwise. A moment's thought was devoted to the subject of outsiders, before the Sigma blew a sigh out through her nose and trotted back to the scent lines, carefully lifting her leg to mark a thorny shrub before continuing on.
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Ylvex's burly paws pressed into the soft, velvety foilage of leaf and worn pines that steadily fell to the ground with each baffering of wind upon the regressing tree branches. Autumn had come, early and strong, and with it brought dazzling colord and a sudden abundance of life and sound. This would make the yearling's second season of leaf-fall and the first solid season of pack-life. Ylvex kept to herself, saying out of others' way in the uprising of Bon Dye; named an Ogoun for her 'fiery' spirit, or merely acting like she had a large pair, the wolf had wound up in the ranks of this Loa-based hierarchy. Whatever that meant.

Besides contemplating whether ot not the Loa gods were believable or a pile of rotten carcass, the solitare wolf went for secluded strolls and maybe showed up amist other members of her pack to grab a bite to eat before heading out again. The female had little ambition, yet wanted recognition. Trying out pack life in the long run was not something the young wolf haf thought over. Her desire to be around her own species, despite her 'bitter' disposition, was what brought her to Bon Dye in the first place. Let's see how long this lasts.

Her nose was stretched up into the air, sniffing for prey that could suffice her non-stop need for food. The scent of squirrel allured her onwards. A red mark of smeared blood lined a random tree every so-often, creating a distinct trail near the edge of Bon Dye borders. She rounded a corner, fur on end and tail arched back in rage and supremecy.

"What are you doing on Bon Dye territory?" The large, brown female growled with her head held high. The scent of coyote on this...animal...was overwhelming. There was no time to assess the stranger completely. "The penalty of trespassing is grim," her eyes narrowed into glowing yellow slits, her while enamels protruding out of their black gum sockets.
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Leto

Leto traveled onwards at an idle speed for a few moments longer, relishing the wind that whipped through her fur and enjoying the spectacle of the color-drenched sky in the west, where the sun sank ever lower to kiss the mountainous horizon. So absorbed in the light show was she that she nearly missed the warning signs of her soon-to-be company, but at the last minute the sixth sense that might have been the instincts of coyote or of wolf shook the half-breed from her reverie. The air in the woods had stilled, just for a moment, and so unnatural was the calm that Leto knew it immediately to be a forboding sign. The desert-kissed fur of her nape prickled and when she took in a deep breath, she found the scent of a stranger. And yet--overlain like delicate lace, she found, too, the distinct musk of Bon Dye.

This was, of course, all in a single moment, and in the next, Leto found herself face to face with the cause of her malaise. Dark brown fur was all Leto could process before she met with a sight that required no thought at all, only reaction. White teeth gleamed from behind dark lips, and a female voice was snarling ignorance. "What are you doing on Bon Dye territory? The penalty for trespassing is grim." Leto had taken a stride back to evade the closeness of her accuser during this tirade, and she had positioned herself defensively--slightly crouched, her head held stiff and slightly lowered, not from respect, but rather poised to launch into attack. Her emerald gaze stared straight up at her packmate, eyes narrowed in anger, her face contorted in displeasure.

"The penalty for challenging your superior may be more grim," she snapped, golden tail snapping back and forth as she arched it over her back, asserting her rank. She knew who was above her on the totem pole, and their numbers were few. "Do you care to find out, or will you back the hell off?" She lifted her head then in challenge. Would this dark female seize the chance to challenge the Lambda? Leto was unsure; she had no gauge by which to measure this she-wolf's probable choice. Stand down, bitch, she thought to herself. We don't need discord in our ranks yet.
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(Hey there! I'm still shaping Ylvex's attitide, and I have never done one where my wolf is an ass...nothing against your wolf at all! Ylvex is just a natural butthole.)

Ylvex let her eyes loosen a moment upon realizing the opposing female was in fact one of her packmates. Assessing the female's posture amd her dominizing barks of royalty, she reluctantly let her fur lie loose on her neck and her tail hung loosely. A curious spark of mischief hid amist the small curly smirk of her muzzle, and a yellow perk of her eyes. The energy radiating from the female was off-setting, yet a challenge to her very slippery exsistence in the pack could get...dirty.

"I'm sorry, your majesty...I had no idea that you are my superior...under all that coyote rancid", her voice came cold and emotionless, but the last word spit softly and with sarcasm. Ylvex bent her head downwards to look up at the she-candid, showing her rank resentfully but nevertheless bowing to her superior. Behind the mask of 'submission' - even now submission came with great difficulty - she did not feel afriad in the least. The last thing she wanted to do was get reported to Alpha Jinx. But still, her mouth was one step ahead of her mind.

"Y-you surely wouldn't punish me for protecting our boundaries? As new as the pack is, I don't know any other...wolf...besides Jinx. Is it wrong to take precautions?" She vhose her words carefully, each phrase purposefully holding double meaning. She would repsect this canine for pure pack rules, but submission would come hard-earned.

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Leto

I am adding a brief conclusion onto this thread so that it can be archived instead of deadified. Not sure if you're still here Huntfire, but if you want to continue it instead, PM me and we can resurrect it.

Leto stiffened at the insubordinate wolf's sarcastic words, and a thrill of anger rocketed through her. Quick on its heels was a wash of something very much like shame, for she'd hoped against hope that her heritage would become a non-issue here, yet this stranger was throwing it back in her face. Outwardly, Leto could not show the hurt that the other female's words had caused. Instead, she lifted her lips to bear her teeth in a snarl, and stood as tall and formidable as her half-coy frame would allow. "You listen here, you sniveling waste of pack resources," came her acidic words, "if you can't accept that a half-coyote bitch is higher than you on the totem pole, then you need to get the hell out of here. There's no room in this pack for your stupid bias. If we can't cooperate as a pack, none of us will last the winter, and I won't let that happen all because your mother never taught you any manners."

"If I hear you're spreading poison words about me in this pack, I'll find you and we'll be having a chat." These were all the words that Leto had to say, and she felt her message had been clear. Either this dark wolf would keep her mouth shut and her issues with Leto's species to herself, or Leto would ensure that the stranger wouldn't have to submit to any of them any more--she'd be out of the pack. In the grip of the coming winter, Leto would bet this idiot would give anything not to be freezing to death in the snow, even if it meant submitting to a halfblood. With a snort of dark amusement at the thought, Leto turned away from the other wolf and sauntered away, her thread issued and the warning duly given. The femme would be a fool to continue to voice her prejudiced opinions, but time would tell.