Wolf RPG

@Figment

In the early hours of the afternoon, Keyni stole away from her more frequented residence of Neverwinter. She and Lote had plans. Had already begun laying the foundation for what would become a new home, for both them and the whole of Moonglow.

With the dove expecting new children this year and the date growing ever closer, the Tundrian felt all the more inclined to venture afar in search of meat to fill the growing caches. She wanted to have a good head start, to be well prepared. There was no telling when things would be in full swing as far as being fully established went. Predicting the arrival of pups was a little easier. She would see to it that the mother and infants would want for nothing.

The flower littered fields she crept through showed little promise in the way of abundance. There were a few tracks leading to the occasional burrow of a hare. Keyni, ever patient and persistent, kept combing through the grasses. Her luck took a turn when she glanced from afar, the figure of a lone young buck. Curious, to see him away from his herd. He could have been ousted early. Lifting her head, she scanned the animal for any sign of injury, but also kept her ears and eyes open for other signs of life around her.

It had taken Fig a long time to decide to give up his search. He'd known from the very beginning that his sister was gone because she chose to be. It had been no mistake, no incident beyond her control. Her departure had been a deliberate, intentional act. She didn't want to be around him right now. She wanted to be alone.

Even so, Fig had tried to find her. Even if he spotted her for only a moment, it would be enough. He just needed to know she was alive. She was safe. She was somewhere in the world, somewhere he could find her again.

It wasn't meant to be.

Fig paced through the blooms, barely noticing the color at his paws though he stared right at them. The world was a dull, grey thing to him. But his melancholy did nothing to mute his other senses, which is what caused him to slow to a stop before he interrupted the stranger's hunt.

He lifted his head as the scent of deer borrowed his attention, his eyes scanning the immediate area. He didn't spot the buck, but he did spot the girl. He slid instinctively into a hunter's crouch and stood still, not wanting to make a move until he knew the score.

Her attention was set firmly on the young buck. The arrival of the lone, dark male went unnoticed, for now. She raised her head slightly, stepping closer for a better look only when the animal lowered it's head to feed. Then the scent hit her. That of infection. It was unmistakable. And, from her closer position, she was able to identify the source. A shallow gouge in the deer's left haunch. It was likely from a more mature male or perhaps another predator. Now she understood why this individual had been ousted from his herd. The stench of the infection would draw in far too much of the wrong kind of attention.

The Tundrian drew back, to weigh her options. As she did, in her peripheral vision, she spotted the male. Dark furred, he was already crouched. Poised for a possible hunt. His eyes were green like hers, she observed. But several shades lighter. Carefully, she scooted backward to edge her way closer to him. But again, only doing so when the deer was not looking in their direction. He may be wounded, but he was still fairly healthy. Once she had gotten a little closer to Figment, she glanced at him wordlessly, then back to her quarry, for his own observation. Two wolves stood a better chance than one, but only if both found the odds favorable.

Fig would’ve been happy for her to dismiss him or drive him off. He wasn’t much in the mood for company, or food, for that matter. But, she approached instead, and her intent was clear. He suppressed a sigh, but stayed where he was. Depressed though he may be, Figment Redhawk still was not capable of being rude.

At her motion, he nodded and turned towards the deer—his own silent signal that he was in. He crept forward slowly, keeping his hunting partner in the corner of his eye. He would coordinate with her and move where she sent him, whether she did so directly or indirectly. He’d spent his life in quiet, almost instinctive orbit around his sister. He knew how to apply the same concept to others, even if he hadn’t met them before.