Wolf RPG

Whump!

He had been chasing a hare across the snow until it had dived into a deceptively shallow snowdrift. And, like any young wolf with half a brain, he had followed it headfirst. So cold!

Wriggling and squirming, he was finally able to free one forelimb from his icy tomb, then the other, and finally his head emerged with a comical pop!

It was in this dazed and snowflake-coated state that someone would find him milling just outside the borders, wondering, deflated, where the hare had run off to.

Moon Runner tracked Ptarmigan. Hunting fowl had quickly become her favorite pastime. There was an art to it that was difficult to master and it required great stealth and cunning to successfully set and kill a nervous, upland bird.

She tasted the wind as it shifted but was surprised to find a new scent. A wolf? Moon Runner loped curiously towards him (for the smell was decidedly male) until she spotted the stranger just beyond their borders.

We have a lot to protect, the spirit reminded itself. Mother carried the next generation. Perhaps, soon, Blood Spot and Wealda would too. However, Moon Runner was no Bjern, and so she eyed the vagrant with curiosity. He looked young and not very formidable. Not like Father or Old Fang [Tulimaq], at least.

A chuff. A snort. The teenager made her presence known as she approached him. Her tail was held high over her back, but it was not rigid. Rather, it swayed around like a slinky to convey the lack of tension in her body. She was interested in him... but Moon Runner did not want to be misconstrued as easygoing.

From his position, the wind tracked away from him and up into the rise. So was it that Halite hadn't the faintest notion that he was near claimed territory, nor that someone was approaching, until he heard a breathy call ring out across the snow.

Hare forgotten and replaced by this much more interesting discovery, he closed the distance between them with curious steps. Limestone tail fanned his hocks, ears airplaned, until they were almost nose to nose and it was here that he paused for a heartbeat to drink in her scent.

The musk that clung to her feather-white pelt was intriguing. She smelled of others. Of a mother's perfume and fresh blood. 

A bark and he slipped his elbows to the snow in a bow, inviting her to play.

The space between them shrunk and the male made placating signals. However, the closer they grew, the stiffer Moon Runner became. A saline scent clung to his furs, from a place she had never seen, that reminded her of the intruder from once upon a time. She stood tall and watched him closely as the hair along the base of her tail began to prickle, activated by being so near a stranger.

Then, the vagrant broke the tension with an invitation to play. Moon Runner shook her furs to get rid of her heebie-jeebies. An ear turned towards him, interested and wanting to join, but the yearling decided to play coy instead. She tiptoed towards him, as if she could break out into zoomies any second, and gave him a low growl, asking for submission.

Show me respect, the spirit said.

Redd watched, a shadow that rose in the background but did not move to interrupt.  The Wealda saw no threat in the outsider's demeanor, though she was tense and prepared to launch herself into action should this read prove incorrect.  Right now Moon Runner demanded a show of submission and Redd would observe to see it met.

The pack needed to function as one.  If those she ran with rejected those who came, then it would be foolish for her to overrule them.  Moon Runner's approval was just as important in this moment as Redd's own.  She would draw her own judgement when the time came; for now she would watch.

In the end, the playful male retreated.

Moon Runner felt this was for the best, though she lamented the loss of a potential new member to the pack who had such a fun, free spirit.

For some time, she looked out into the distance as if she hoped he would come back.

Then, the young woman returned to her patrol route, unaware Wealda had been watching the entire time.