Wolf RPG

for @Magpie

Beneath a sky streaked in sunset's blazing colors, she slipped from the mountainside, past her borderlands, and into the expanse of the flatlands. Trips like these had grown rare in the heart of wintertime but the dark alpha did take care to see to them now and again. While she did devote so very much to the mountain, to clear her head elsewhere reaped its own benefits.

And, as her treks usually did, she found her way towards the lake. There, she joined up with its banks and set her pace to a comfortable, lurking jog. With her head slung low towards the ground, she keened her senses for prey, wolves, and otherwise. Even in wintertime, this seemed to be a hub for activity, and she was appreciative to have it near to the Sunspire. While their mountain remained self-sufficient with the addition of Northstar Vale at their base, this could always provide a valuable back up should they ever need it. Because of this, she liked to keep tabs on it now and again.

So while a tiny sliver of moon situated itself on the ever-darkening backdrop, she continued on beside the lake.

It seemed that Magpie was insistent on exploring every corner of the Flatlands before she finally returned the the Caldera, though it was largely a subconscious choice. Her inner monologue was filled with perfectly acceptable excuses, though if she were to ever speak them aloud to someone, they'd be revealed as the bunk they truly were. She wasn't usually one to cower away from her fears, instead facing them head-on and protesting stubbornly against them... but this was different, somehow. These wolves meant something to her.

Thirsty from her wandering, Magpie zig-zagged back to the lake that swelled at the center of the Flatlands— a miniature ocean, as so many seemed to think of it. Night was without a doubt here, with a sliver of moonlight casting silver across the black, half-frozen waters of the lake. Tomorrow, then— she would return to them tomorrow.

As she drew near the shore to take a drink, the silhouette of another seemed to materialize from the dark backdrop of water and night. Magpie held her breath, remembering the stories of the Corvidae and the magic of this world, but when the unmistakable scent of Sunspire seemed to punch her in the nose, the yearling knew what she saw was only the mundane.

Instinct took over, or she might have avoided the wolf altogether; instead, she adopted a defensive pose, her coat puffing out in agitation, as she tensed and watched the other with vibrant green eyes. She would leave the first move to the Sunspire wolf, and then she could decide the best course of action.

It was quiet, in a night dappled subtly with other scents from the daytime, nothing managed to stick out in particular as exceptionally fresh or otherwise noteworthy. But she enjoyed the walk all the same to have the company of the water, the darkness, the moon, and seemingly little else. She had a feeling she would return to the mountain recharged and content -- barring incident between here and there. Which, considering how long she intended to mosey, was always a possibility.

Like this she continued for a time, until a scent (one curiously familiar at that) was picked up. The dark alpha sharpened but she was already too close to certainly mask her presence entirely. So she continued boldly forward with ears pricked and eyes seeking in the lacking light.

She could make out the white markings first and not long after, the outline of the young wolf became clear -- and as scent had indicated, this had been one of their prisoners many moons ago. This was not a wolf she had anticipated seeing ever again, let alone here in the same neutral spaces as herself.

Ame saw her puffed out coat to increase her size, for it seemed she had only amounted to a small wolf but perhaps no less lacking in ferocity. However the alpha's posture looked relatively relaxed in the face of it all; times had changed greatly since then. The younger female did look much better than the last time she had seen her, which had been at the tail end of her hunger strike. It has been a while, she quipped in lieu of a more proper greeting. Sniffing plainly, she found there was no trace of the Creek on her this time, so she did not know how to feel just yet.

Magpie's posture did not relax, even as the other female seemed unaffected. If anything, that bristled the yearling's temper even more— she hardly knew the woman before her, but she knew that it was her that had stolen her so roughly away from Fox. It didn't matter how many moons had come and gone; Magpie hated her for it. Her jaw tightened, reverting back to the days where she had spoken nothing. Trust was a gift earned, and Amekaze did not have hers.

But the older female's lack of action gave Magpie nothing to react to, and she wasn't so stupid as to attack the woman unprovoked. She was a yearling, unaffiliated— Amekaze was clearly still part of the Sunspire, which meant the pack was still thriving, which meant they could fall upon her if the kidnapper so much as barked. It left her paralyzed and tense, and she did the only thing she could think of to release some of her ire: "Not long enough that anything's changed."

Of course, everything had, but Magpie was referring to her grudge.

She stood rather still and lax, then watched the younger wolf stay rigid and tense. Frustrated, perhaps? Amekaze couldn't truly tell. So to her words, she couldn't help but shake her head and chuff a soft laugh; not exactly. Much had changed. The dark alpha could attest to that in a heartbeat.

You are awfully tense, she sneered. Her indifference, and lack of making a threatening lunge in the younger female's way, spoke well enough. I disagree. Nothing about you speaks of the Creek, at the very least. As obvious as it was, perhaps she needed a reminder on why she had landed in the way she had many moons ago, being drug off as captive by her own teeth. Amekaze had acted on her Alpha's instruction. While it did leave a funny taste in her mouth to need to manhandle a practical-whelp, and she wouldn't deny that she had done the girl wrong, it had been Fox's fault it had come to that anyway.

She couldn't help but growl defensively at the older woman's laugh, disliking the feeling that she was being patronized. Magpie had seen her first year— she had survived it, mostly alone, and she had earned the right to adulthood. She was still under the impression that the 'adulthood' milestone automatically came with all kinds of respect and wisdom, but the longer she held the status, the more frustrated she became that this wasn't so.

"The last time we were in this position, you took me against my will," Magpie spat. It hadn't happened quite like that, but it was close enough. The yearling had come to understand that it was Fox's error that led her to captivity at the jaws of the Sunspire wolves, but that didn't give them any right to hold her without consent. Fox had at least recognized that she had been wrong to put Magpie in harm's way, and the yearling also understood that it hadn't been the fiery wolf's intention for things to go the way they had. "No shit, I'm tense."

She suddenly felt very appreciative of the small, flame-colored wolf— affection for her welled, and Magpie wondered why she was still so afraid to return to the caldera.

She growled and she spat, to which Ame's ears quivered and she found herself a tiny bit amused. A part of her wanted to tell the yearling to just.. relax. Unclench for half a second, or at least long enough to realize that there was no need and she was wasting her energy. This position is hardly like the last. The only real thing in common is us being in sight of each other, she gestured her snout between the two of them with a flicker of her tail. There was no instigating Fox involved, no trespassing or any other various crimes, no real point to be made, nothing. Amekaze wouldn't make a move against her unless she gave her a new, unrelated reason here and now.

Nevertheless, she had met their other captive beforehand, and thought well of Leaf. She'd never had any personal issue with the young, dark-furred female either. On different circumstances (such as had Amekaze remained with the Creek and not followed Ferdie), she may have even liked the girl given the chance. But, while the former captive was somewhat entertaining to see burning so brightly with bitterness, it was bound to get tiresome soon. I realize it was brusque handling of the matter for you. It was the consequence of your leader's actions and what was apparently necessary to get her to knock it off, she huffed. While she hadn't liked it all that much, and was always sort of vaguely indifferent to the whole message it sent, it had achieved results -- which was worth it to her.

Magpie's pride wanted to keep her angry and inflamed, particularly when the she-beast continued to act so nonchalant— like time really had washed away all wounds. Perhaps she held so tightly to the grudge because she had decided that she had forgiven Fox, but needed another place for her anger to be directed. Still, the dark woman had a point the youth couldn't deny; this situation was entirely different than the last, and Amekaze was making it clear she had no intention of reclaiming the yearling. And that was almost an apology— until she continued, speaking ill of Fox.

She bared her teeth in annoyance at that, though she had relaxed, some. "Fox screwed up," Magpie admitted readily, "but don't go acting like the Sunspire was at all innocent. Only savages take captives, and the only worst kind steal whelps." Evidently, the youth had strong convictions where puppies were concerned.

She knew that, and wrinkled her nose a little into a 'no shit' sort of expression. I know that, she shrugged, fighting the urge to roll her eyes for she was well aware the Sunspire was far from innocent. It was obvious they were not coming to a real agreement any time soon though, their perspectives were too far apart. Fox brought us whelps so we made do, as Ferdie wanted captives, and we were able to provide. I would have rather kept Fox, she explained. If the situation had happened under her leadership, she knew it would have been much different. Besides, we could have treated you much worse. Not that she anticipated the yearling to think that did any good.

Magpie settled a bit as soon as Amekaze conceded, the elder's admission acting as a balm on her ire. At least she knew she and the rest of her pack were savages... except Summer. The thought of him calmed the black-and-white yearling further, though she would not allow her guard to fall completely. Ferdie had let her go, yes, but who knew if it had been a ruse— what if he ordered her recapture? She didn't trust the brutish woman; the memory of her teeth, the moment Magpie had lost her freedom, would always burn in Magpie's heart. "Then you should have gone after her," she responded, with all the tense patience of someone explaining something for the hundredth time to a child, "if she's who you really wanted. There's nothing worse than stripping someone of their free will. Only more."

She thought little of throwing the fiery woman under the bus like that; Magpie felt an undying loyalty to the small wolf, but if she had been given a choice, she'd have rather seen Fox get punished for Fox's choices. Magpie might have left right then, their conversation clearly going nowhere— but there was something she wanted from all of this. Quietly, knowing she had no real right to ask after her tirade, she queried, "How is Summer?"

Interest ebbed, for truthfully, capturing Fox would have been best but risking chase of the wily woman might have cost them any captives at all. Then, the annoying conflict might have gone on for much longer and she knew there was no way for Magpie to see it any other way -- although, her remark on free will almost arced a brow. Ame could think of a few things worse, but not many.

When she was about to make for a leave, Summer suddenly became the topic. "He is well," she answered shortly. While brief, there was truth in it; he had grown into a principled creature, and unrelated, near to her heart. She wasn't going to say much, despite how proud of him she was. "You can ask him yourself," she provided, veiled, for she knew they had spent time together, but not the extensiveness of their bond. Amekaze wouldn't shoo the yearling from the Spire's vicinity, so long as she brought sensibilities and not trouble.

With this much said, she glided forward with long strides past the black-and-white yearling to continue on her way. She would leave her with that.

It was good to know that Summer was well, and Magpie relaxed completely at that— both weary of the game and simply overcome with joy at the knowledge that he was still here. She hadn't admitted it to herself before, but he was a big part of the reason she had even returned to the Wilds. Without someone she was close to, was returning here really worth it? Without Summer, she might as well return to the Corvidae after her business at the caldera was concluded.

Amekaze decided, too, that she was weary of the game— without another word, she moved around Magpie, cold and mechanical as ever. The yearling made a face at her retreating back, the grudge she held now deeper than ever. That also threw Magpie for a loop; she hadn't thought about where she'd go if she did remain in the Wilds. Both the Caldera and the Sunspire seemed out of the question.

She'd just need to convince Summer to leave and find a new home with her.

And so the yearling left the lakeshore, a new mission in mind.

Amekaze

OG Magpie

Amekaze

OG Magpie

Amekaze

OG Magpie

Amekaze

OG Magpie

Amekaze

OG Magpie

Amekaze

OG Magpie