Wolf RPG

He was frustrated.

The women who lived upon the rise would soon come in to their power, and he wanted to be present when it happened. He had expected it to be sooner rather than later, and was unhappy when the scent of estrus only emerged when he ventured away from the Rise; others, across the wilderness, were getting what he wanted.

Tulimaq paced. His irritation was wrought upon the world as he stomped and clawed his way along the rise, seeking something to break, or kill. Or on the off-chance he saw another living wolf, he would bellow to them with a challenge; an invitation to spar.

So far, none had taken the old man up on the offer.

The men here did not want to fight him, and so far the women did not want to fuck him. He found himself deeply missing Avicus, then.

There was a faraway look on Masque’s face as she trotted back home with a dead woodchuck swinging in her jaws. She crossed the borders and rolled to a stop, setting down her kill to sniff the air, then the ground. When she found New Snow’s scent, she plucked up the carcass and trailed it.

She found Tulimaq instead. The Caru ground to a halt, the preoccupied expression on her face clearing as her brows furrowed. He looked intensely agitated. Something about his demeanor unsettled her, causing her hackles to prickle. She remained motionless, waiting to see if he’d notice her.