Wolf RPG

Val had brought each of the children a special something, and while he had paused to look over the items given to his siblings, he revered the gift that had been given to him. A plush, beautiful fox tail- each strand of fur smoothe, silky and perfect. He allowed only a glimpse of it before he trotted off with his treasure, seeking somewhere safe that he might stow it, safe from the drooling mouths of his siblings. 

He pondered taking it near Glintwater Lake, which was where he normally went to get some time alone, but if his secret spot was found out, the foxtail would be as well. He did not want to share, not when the tail would likely get chewed up or worse- put in the lake where it could get moldy and then get full of germs.

He went to the Greatpine Wildwood, to the edge of the evergreen forest where the sequoias began to grow, towering over all other trees. Here, on a soft bed of fallen nettles, he cradled the precious fox tail between his forefeet, and began to groom it.

speaking of germs — here came miette, in the metaphorical sense of the koolaid man. she surged through the wildwood, plunging the atmosphere into something charged as she went.

look dis! she commanded of tousaint as she spotted him preening the gossamer red pelt of his gift. her own present was touted forth with an air of pride; a tooth of a fearsome megapredator, all her own!

how many things had it killed in its lifetime, she wondered — and what of its original owner? where had its soul gone when it fled this earth? did any part of it remain, wielded in this jagged tooth — and if so, how could she utilize it?

Tousaint tucked the fox tail nearer to his chest, where it could blend in with red fur of his own and be protected by his hovering jaw. His ears turned back, knowing that it was his littermate who approached. Her tread was unmistakable. His sister was a crashy, thrashy mouth-breather who always smelled just a little bit off and never followed the rules. He'd taken a look at the gift Val had brought for her, and it had been worth a moment of his time, but he had little interest in having it shoved in his face again. 

"Mwen te wè li," He said, hoping she might be dismissed if she knew he didn't want to look at it again.

she held the prize overhead as if it were a triumph — but tousaint seemed utterly disinterested.

how come? miette lowered the ancient fang with a frown, noticing the defensive way tousaint had tucked his gift under his chest; as if she would steal it.

well… the thought had occurred to her. only a little thieving though. nothing too bad or mean.

what your treatie be, toozdaint? miette inquired with a feigned honey-sweet mein, unable to hide the greedy glint in her eyes.

There was a moment of silence, and that was never good. He turned his sour gaze up to see her looking down at him, and while she was silhouetted by the ambient light coming from behind her, he could see the glistening of her eyes. It was the way gulls looked at leftover pieces of fish, beady, little I want eyes. His breath caught, and he tucked one paw against his chest, trapping the fox tail there as the little cinnamon-ticked guard hairs along his shoulders lifted slightly. Hardly a mark of defiance considering it was still soft, downy puppy fur, but the guard hairs had begun to poke through, and stood like porcupine quills. 

"Ou te deja wè li" He said. "Epi se pou mewn. Val banm li." He felt threatened by the glint in her beady eyes, the sweetened tone of her voice as though she thought she could lure it from him with a siren-song. He defended it all the more fiercely when he felt she might want to take it from him and make it dirty with her meaty sleep-breath.

those beady i-want eyes fixed on tousaint with hunger. but he was wise to her tricks - he knew her better than most.

miette sat upon the ground in a slump, sending a small cloud of dust in a halo around them.

she was smaller than tousaint, therefore unable to overpower him. while it was arguable she was meaner and knew his soft fleshy spots, she also knew mireille was never far from them, and tousaint’s yells of protest were likely to reach their maman’s ears.

she huffed. such things required strategy - miette was full of youthful impatience, and was only just learning the conniving art of the long game.

it be very pretty. she layered on the saccharine charm, stroking the rough edges of her shark fang thoughtfully. it matches your fur! mebbe it look good against your tail. ‘old it up, lett us see?

The little wolf version of Pigpen sat, disturbing a puff of dust that caused Tousaint to tense and snort. He recoiled slightly, like a snake getting ready to strike, still clutching the prized gift to his chest. His sister's expression shifted to a near-lecherous gaze; Tousaint's pupils narrowed with just suspicion. He considered calling out so that she might be spooked off, or calling for Val who he felt would certainly prevent Miette from spoiling the thoughtful gift he had brought. He considered grabbing it and bolting, though he felt certain it might get snagged or damaged in the process. He pondered the brush's likely fate and tried not to sigh. If it wanted it kept perfect, he would have to stash it somewhere that not even he could revisit. Anything to keep it out of her grubby paws. 

He was, however, slightly appeased by her flattery. "Natirèlman. Se poutèt sa Val ban mwen li. Li bèl, jis tankou mwen." He boasted. He tottered his head from side to side, revealing the white tip of the fox brush for just a second before he brought his second paw across the front of himself, clinging to it even tighter. "Mwen pas sot," He said. "Ou pa gen dwa manyen li. Si pou mwen," He said, a childish snarl to his voice.

the cogs in miette's little brain churned. it could be said that none of mireille’s children were stupid; least of all tousaint. of the four of them he seemed the most with it.

for a tantalizing moment he seemed to let his guard down — and that was when miette learned the chink in tousaint’s gilded armor.

as tempting as it was to snatch the pretty thing now, miette held fast. if she was to truly win his trust, she would have to appear disinterested even in moments where it could easily be her own. in this way, miette laid the foundation of her future strategy.

she blinked owlishly as her brother snarled, a small paw brought to her chest as if assailed. i don’t be wantin’ it. she proclaimed, worming out of strike range of his bared teeth.

do you want to ‘old my toof? she pushed the fang towards her brother, the sparkle of hope and vulnerability in her eyes genuine.

He could tell he was depriving her of something that she wanted. If he trusted her at all to treat it gently, he might have given her a look, but manipulation wasn't going to work. He was stubborn and proud, and the combination of both those qualities made him ruthlessly selfish. He took pleasure in denying his sister's request, and when she offered to let him see her treasure, he simply raised his brows, pouted a bit at the corner of his lips and shrugged dismissively. 

"Non." He said, before he added a faint smile that did little other than crease the soft fur at the corners of his eyes and pull his lips a bit more thin. "Mési, menm si." He added politely. He lifted a paw briefly to nudge the shark tooth back toward her, careful to use the toepad so he wouldn't risk scratching the thing. While he didn't want it, it was still a precious gift from Val, though he pitied it for having been given to the most destructive of the children.

he didn’t want the tooth? miette struggled to understand. it was a totem of power - a relic of a different age, steeped in the lore of their ocean — what child would not behold it with wonder?

her features crumpled with dejection. this was worse than other times, where the blow had been a bit softer. not even his thin smile subdued the pang of rejection she felt.

miette returned the tooth to the crook of her arm. ’ow come you don’ like de things i like, toozdaint? she pinned him with a woeful look, doe eyed and mournful.

His eyes were drawn to the shark's tooth once again, noting the interesting curve of its edge, and its keen, lightly serrated point. He did find the tooth interesting, but it lost its allure simply because it belonged to his sister. When he stopped to think about it for a moment, he ended up thinking about it long enough to find himself frowning with light disgust. That thing had once belonged in a large fish's mouth. It had been stuck in pink gums alongside many others of its kind, gnashing and slashing other fish apart. He could only imagine how many germs that tooth had severed!

he did not speak of this thought for fear he might ruin Miette's prize, which she clearly liked quite a bit. He was not so wretched a soul that he would stoop that low, and could keep those festering thoughts to himself. Instead, he considered her question to be more general- and considered the things that he knew Miette liked, and found himself finding an answer he thought was a bit less cruel. 

"Mwen pa renmen yo paske ou ranmen bagay ki sal, ki gen odè, mikwob ak degoutan. Se poutèt, sa." He explained with an air of dignity, as though a decent explanation would offer clarification. Because he was a stuck-up little boy who definitely dared to condescend and mansplain, he added "Epi non mwen pwononse Tou-sawn."

miette composed her face into further despair.

if she was lucky, it would work and he would feel sorry -- planting the seed for her future retribution. but she was a novice actor still, and so she tread these new waters with care.

dirty, smelly, germy, and disgusting; this was the verdict tousaint delivered. dat is mean! miette cried, snatching the tooth with a cry. she didn't wait to see if her theatrics landed with her intended audience, nor did she respond to his correction of her still rough speech.

with a wail, miette stormed away.

He never did appreciate the chosen volume setting of her voice, but he'd become accustomed to it enough that he didn't flinch when she shouted. Like a Marshall amp, Miette's voice had a dial that went to 11, because that's one more, innit? It was when she whirled and began to march off without a backward glance that he finally emitted a sigh and rolled his eyes. 

"IF-" He called out, switching languages in an attempt to halt her. "You swear not to 'urt it," He said, "You can see it. For a minute." He waited. Now, he almost wanted for her to want to see it.

miette was scarcely two paces before tousaint relented.

aha! all part of her plan. her little evil eyes lit with fiendish delight, the spark gone by the time she whirled back around to face him.

miette would offer no such promise -- but today, she stayed her hand with an artful air of snobbery that would eventually become her trademark. no. you been sittin' on it. i don' want no schmelly 'ding. she announced with a flick of her tail and a huff, performing the wolf equivalent of collecting her skirt and storming off with her little nose scraping the clouds in disdain.

Tousaint rolled his eyes with an audible sigh. His sister huffed and pranced off, leaving him behind to wait for a few moments, before he pulled his paws away from his chest. Timidly, he sniffed the fox's brush, fearing perhaps that it had become smelly as he'd clutched it so feverishly to him. Some of the hairs had become crinkled, but to his relief, it did not smell like anything other than fox-fur and himself. 

He hissed a quiet swear under his breath and settled the brush gently between his forelegs so that he could groom it, and make it perfect once more. Possibly the last time he might get to play with it before stashing it somewhere safe.

throughout her carefully enacted theatrics, miette pinned a sly eye to her brother. did he believe her? would he fall for it?

she only made it a short distance before she plopped to the red dirt, cradling the shark tooth. the blue skies above glinted in its darkening surface; she liked how the light refracted from each jagged edge.

behind her tousaint flattened the red blades of fur. miette played indifferently with herself for a time before she made for astera’s den to stash her toy.

tonight, miette would perform her first heist.

He smoothed the fur, combing through it with his claws, slicking it here and there where there were flyaways with gentle strokes of his tongue. Casting a dour look into the distance he resolved that he loved his gift so much that he should part with it. 

He contemplated flinging it from the cliffs and down into the ocean, sending with it a prayer that his grandmothers and the loa might at least take it as a gift and enjoy it themselves. The logician within him told him that it would either sink or the sea would cast it aside. He also considered how much offense Val might take if he knew that the fox brush had been thrown into the ocean; of all the wolves in Sapphique, he seemed the most keen to avoid the waters. 

He remembered a burl he had seen on a tree, hollowed out naturally, and set off to stash it there. He could barely reach, and of course had to inspect the hole first to make sure it wasn't already inhabited by a squirrel or an owl that might just make it into a nest. He sighed as he placed the brush into the hollow in the tree, gave it one more longing look, and wandered off, defeated. 

He began to regret being so selfish, but he was proud, and cheered himself up in thinking that he could come back and visit it- first thing tomorrow morning.