Slinking through the cold darkness that embraced the late afternoon, a tall and thin silhouette weaved its way through the Heartwood. The male's movements were quick and mechanic, driving him up and down as he hunted, not for something to ease his hunger but to shield him from the upcoming drizzle that hung tentatively from the clouds above.
With his nose snorting furiously over the floor like a bloodhound, the Ostrega found himself poking his pistol thin jowls into a seemingly abandoned burrow located near the base of a large tree. Though he often came off as a careless risk-taker, Ciervo hesitated before pushing his nose deeper into the darkness of the burrow. Instead, the rust colored male dropped into a crouch, his golden eyes still traicing the edges of the burrow as if at any moment something were to pop out.
And then Eureka!
From the depths of the burrow, an old, smelly fox sticked its nose out of the den, its small snout contorted to show the Ostrega its rotten fangs. Ciervo, who was well aware of what the fox's appereance meant, lunged forward, grasping the smaller canine's snout between his own and pulling the pot-bellied fox out of the comfort of his own home.
While the Ostrega knew that raiding a fox's burrow was not exactly what his parents (biological and foster) had raised him for, the cold weighing upon his shoulders and seeping into his bones threatened to suck the life out of him if he didn't act.
Ciervo had a strange set of morals which dictated that he would rather be an shameful thief that assaulted an old fox unprovoked than a good samaritan that froze to death.
Today's tracking led him north and west until he found himself wandering a land called The Heartwood. He weaved between the trees, a black shadow passing through the bleak gray light. He alternated between sniffing the air and trailing his nose along the ground. Peregrine came across a few promising trails, though nothing came of any of them.
He was just beginning to think it was time to turn back and head home to his antsy, nesting mate when the smell of fresh blood hit him like a warm slap to the face. The swarthy wolf began to salivate as he followed his nose, though he stopped short when he traced the smell to its source and saw a ruddy wolf standing over a half-dead fox.
Peregrine quickly scrutinized the situation, then decided he was neither hungry not desperate enough to risk injury over a fox that appeared old and wasted away anyway. He took a step back, ears tipping backward and tail held neutrally to indicate that he meant no threat to the stranger's meal.
Despite the fox's justified efforts to break free from his grasp, Ciervo's grip was strong. With a brusque head movement he dragged the raggedy animal outside, his teeth still piercing trhough the animal's bloody maw. While this would've been the perfect opportunity to let any type of guilt materialize from the depths of his heart, the dirty delinquent saw it more as a chance to put out the fox's desperate cries.
Being the opportunist he was, Ciervo took advantage of the pitiful state his opponent was in and switched his aim for the fox's maw to his throat in a quick calculating move.
Though his intentions had initially not gone beyond robbing the place, it seemed that his list of crimes would now also include an aggravated murder. The fox's helpless kicking and snarling were all in vain once Ciervo had wrapped his muzzle over the creature's trachea.
Slowly all signs of resistance and life left in the fox seeped away from his body, leaving the proud Ostrega to simply stand over the lifeless body of his victim heaving and panting while blood trickled down his maw and into the snow.
Little did the felon know that he had been observed by another wolf, who in spite of keeping himself at margin from it all, still watched the crime with silent judging eyes. Like a cat being caught in a canary's cage, coughing up the feathers, Ciervo lifted his head quickly as the scent of the man wafted into his nose.
With his teeth still stained red, Ciervo allowed his lips to draw back into a condescending smile.
Cold-blooded murder was nothing but appropiate during cold season.
The stranger greeted him with a disquieting, bloody leer. Peregrine paused, eyes momentarily dropping to the other wolf's kill. Having killed and eaten a fair share of foxes (despite his lover's name), he thought nothing of it and sensed none of the strange guilt the unfamiliar male was feeling.
"I have no interest in your kill," the swarthy Peregrine said aloud to complement his body language. He wondered at the slightly guilty light in the other canine's eyes but didn't care enough to ask. In fact, he would probably be on his way, just as soon as he was sure he wouldn't be attacked for inadvertently stumbling over this hunting wolf and his prize.
What resided inside the male's golden orbs was quite the opposite of guilt. Not when the fox had stopped trashing its legs while he held it down or when he had decided to take his life to save his own had a feeling or regret flowed through his veins. His kill and his crime had brought nothing but peace upon the bronzed Ostrega. He now had a home, a meal, and later a warm fox skin to keep his feet warm.
Not even the idea of using the legitimate owner's own carcass to adorn the den made him feel ashamed.
With his body towering over the dead critter, Ciervo allowed the tip of his tail to rise over his back. Though the land he stood in was not his, it was not Peregrine's either. He stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to either try his luck at stealing or to leave.
He swiped his pink tongue over his nose, as the man stated he didn't mean to be a threat. While he remained wary of his interest then, he allowed himself to relax, sending his curled tail into a slow wag to break the sudden tension. "Yeah, fox isn't my favorite dish either -- What are you interested in then?" he asked, setting his champagne eyes on the male's face.
Peregrine looked on warily as the male raised his tail, showing dominance over his kill despite his repeated attempts to make it clear he wasn't a threat. He didn't move, allowing him to lord it over his trophy. It was his right, Peregrine supposed.
The stranger relaxed a moment later. Peregrine remained tense but not overly so as the other wolf invited conversation. "I don't mean that I don't eat fox meat. I just have no interest in robbing you," he clarified.
Despite himself, Peregrine couldn't help but respect a lone wolf doubling as a successful hunter. That wasn't to say he was without a pack, simply that he had brought down this fox on his own. By the look of it, it hadn't been a particularly tough kill, yet the Gamekeeper wasn't one to turn his nose up at a triumph of any size.
"Are you a hunter by trade?" he wondered, then decided to get introductions out of the way. "I'm Peregrine, Alpha of Redhawk Caldera, a pack southeast of here." Hopefully the other male would mention his own status. Who knew, maybe he would get the opportunity to recruit today.
It was not strange for a wolf like Ciervo to wish that others weren't like him. Not because he prided himself on being special, unique or anything of the sort, but because he thought that, counting himself , there were already too many thives in the world. He was pleasantly surprised to see that despite the cold and scarcity of food Winter brought along the man continued to insist he was not there to be nasty.
"Formerly, yes" he admitted while twitching the little whiskers over his lip. From the minute he had been able to Ciervo had taken hunting as his main interest. Though he also had a passion -- and quite a talent -- for being an instigator and a fighter he had dedicated most of his energy and free time to perfecting his techniques and strategies. More than a trade or job however, Ciervo had seen it as a passion -- or as most things in his life : a hobby.
The sense of hunger strenghtened inside his stomach, which now took its own turn to articulate its desires with a loud growl, he quickly silenced by lashing his tongue over his jowls. Though he would not mind the company, and could probably use it, the Ostrega listened half-heartedly to the man's introduction, only saving from his words that the man held a high status "Ciervo Ostrega, lone ranger"he barked with a shrug. The mention of his former pack was not relevant in the conversation. It belogned to the past, and though it was a past he often missed it was not one he wished to repeat.
Peregrine's ears twitched in response to the male's rumbling stomach. "Don't feel as if you have to hold back on my account. You're welcome to eat," he said, bobbing his snout to indicate that he should eat if he was hungry. They could still talk between bites, after all.
"Alone during this time of year?" he echoed inquisitively. "Are you looking for a home, Ciervo?" he asked, getting straight to the point. "The caldera could always use some more skilled hunters." His gaze dropped pointedly to the dead fox at Ciervo's feet, then drifted back upward.
changed my mind this happens after the Somnia x Ciervo thread :p
my heart's in atrophy
While something as irrelevant, not to mention natural, as the rumbling of his stomach was not something Ciervo would ever apologize for, he felt that for once the conversation he was holding was more interesting than food, so when the other male motioned towards the fox's body with his snout and suggested he should dig in Ciervo furrowed his brow and shook his head. His hunger was something he could take of care later, Peregrine on the other hand would be just a visitor he was obliged to deal with now.
Being alone, specially, in Winter was a risky and Ciervo was well aware of it. With a nod he confirmed the male's statement feeling not proud but comfortable to admit he was on his own. Even if Peregrine had a greater size and was notably older, Ciervo was not intimidated by his presence, after all hadn't he just declared he would not try to threaten him or his meal? In fact, there was a certain type of interest glimmering in the Ostrega's eyes now that he looked at the Caldera man closely. A type of.. familiarity despite the lack of introduction on his side?
The Caldera?
He repeated in his mind while trying to pin point the exact conversation during which he had heard that name.
Oh, right..
His mind trailed back to the encounter he had had with a female of the famous Caldera not more than a few days ago. Not having thought much of the man's name before, he then pieced everything together. He was black and big and his name was Peregrine. "I spoke with one of yours I think" he barked then, not bothering to answers his invitations yet.
Ciervo shook his head and Peregrine said nothing. If he didn't want to eat with an audience, he couldn't blame him. He was actually sort of glad because Cievero seemed legitimately interested in continuing the conversation. The Alpha's leading questions had perhaps piqued his interest.
"Oh?" the swarthy Redleaf-DiSarinno replied when Ciervo mentioned meeting another wolf from the caldera. "Who was it?" He had no doubt that, whoever it was, he or she had done a good job of representing Redhawk Caldera. Peregrine was rather proud of his wolves; he and Fox only brought in the best of the best.
That could include you, you know, his level gaze seemed to say as he peered at Ciervo, large ears pricked for his response.
Whether or not Somnia had done a good job representing the Caldera was a question that would remain forever unanswered. Though he had to admit she had captured his interest with her intitial part of her narration, it was also important to mention she had lost him completely as she neared the end.
But even after his rather harsh exit to the conversation, he had remained intrigued. Maybe there was more to the Caldera. Maybe just like Peregrine thought his fellow subordinate was a prodigy recruiter and Ciervo begged to differ, the Caldera was neither run by tyrants or freaky flower childs that did nothing but to love one another endlessly.
Whatever it was, Ciervo was willing --again-- to listen, perhaps for once he'd be surprised.. "Someone named Somnia or something of the sort" he recalled, vaguely picturing the female's face in his mind.
Ciervo named one of his up-and-coming Gamekeepers. She and Peregrine had not struck a friendship yet but she'd left him with a fairly favorable impression. He wondered if she'd done the same to the male in front of him, though he didn't ask. He wasn't really one for hanging around and making small talk. He wanted to cut to the chase, figure out whether or not he would be adding a warm body to his ranks today, then head back, with or without Ciervo Ostrega.
"Ah," he answered, "she's one of my hunters. You could join the team if you were interested, Ciervo. I'm not going to waste any more of your time or mine if you'd prefer to stay a free agent, though. Enjoy your fox," Peregrine said with a nod. He then turned to go, keeping an ear open in case Ciervo stopped him. If he didn't, then it was just as well. He could always think over the swarthy Alpha's offer and pay the caldera a visit later, or simply move on to other people, places and things.
But there was nothing to listen to apparently. With an incredulous look shining in his eyes of gold champagne he watched as the man failed to say anything else about the Caldera, or about how life there was like. He sat idly through his goodbyes, thinking to himself that perhaps not eating when Peregrine suggested to had been the biggest waste of time.
No questions were answered and no more were made.
Ciervo really didn't want to know a word more about the Caldera, and Peregrine was not about to beg him (thankfully!).There were times when one had to learn not to press on -- at least Peregrine knew that too.
With his eyes trailing behind Peregrine as he advanced through the snow, the proud Ostrega nosed the fox's dead body, poking and prodding at his dinner until he was certain the black, big wolf called Perergine was out of sight. "Enjoy your whatever" he murmured only for himself to hear before chuffing into the foggy Winter air and taking a bite of his well deserved meal.
His fellow wolf didn't stop him and Peregrine trotted away with nary another word. He was vaguely disappointed that Ciervo hadn't taken initiative or expressed any real interest in the caldera. But that was all right. In the end, they likely didn't need one another. Hell, there might not even be much space left in the caldera's ranks, for that matter. The Alpha pondered this for a few minutes as he made his way home, though the chance encounter soon faded to the back of his mind.
