AW :)
In a torturous fit of hunger, Dogmeat had left the group. Alone he could devise a plan -- alone, the male stood a better chance of befriending or beguiling any he encountered.
With a heavy and rolling gait the burly male struck towards where he recalled a pack border sat -- tentatively he nosed along frozen tundra where the territory's edges rolled into unclaimed tussock. Wearily, the male folded on the ground between two ice-laden fronds, his sunken gaze peering into the territory.
For now, he would study.
I hope this is OK!
There was no cacophony to rouse her in time for the escape, and so she had lingered at the crash site; awoken by the sound of buzzing flies, of hungry birds in the trees. Upon waking the bitch saw red, and knew innately that she had survived something horrible. There were a few dead dogs littering the ground, and a trail leading in one obvious direction. How many days had she been asleep? It felt like weeks, but that could not be right. There was a ringing in her head, a pressure behind her eyes, upon her face; the crack of dried blood as she tested her jaws on an unwanted breakfast, all the while the ringing increased in pitch -
The ringing had not stopped. It had dulled somewhat in her travels, but not ended entirely. Her belly had not remained full after her attempt at a meal, as it was not accustomed to consuming its own kind. She had spent the next few hours retching, adding a fresh pile of bloody vomit to the trail as she
doggedly pursued the other escapees. It was by chance alone that she stumbled upon one of them - and at first, Sechuan did not know
who or
what she had found.
He was alone - a peculiar status for one in such desperation. But his silhouette did not make any warnings go off within her, so she pursued. Before long the dog had slowed down further, even stopping, and thus Sechuan caught up to him. She
woofed a low sound, a strangled little greeting, and it barely made it in to the winter air; a second attempt was too loud, but it did the trick. Her flopped ears shifted eagerly forward, hoping the dog would notice her.
The boar-figured male studied the landscape with sunken eyes, his gaze deep and thoughtful. Snow had swept across a large part of the pack's expanse -- about him a gentle powder of snow fell fine as horsehair. On the promontories bruised and raw earth poked through the varnish of ice like bones exposed.
He heard the approach of another and while he readied himself he did not yet rise. His tattered, frostbit ears flipped forwards as a woof, barely audible, penetrated the air followed by a much more firm announcement. Turning his wedge-shaped head to the size, he recognized the approaching figure as a domestic. She looked battered, and split across her muzzle was a fresh cut he did not envy. He said nothing, though his tail quietly pattered fresh imprints in the dappled snow.
Wolves can intervene at any point, right? I don't want to dissuade anyone from posting if they want to intercept.
He did not run, nor did he call back to her. It was strange to think about the silence, as the Labs had never been a very quiet place. It was unnerving, to say the least. The wild was very different, and Sechuan did not know how to feel about it yet. She was likely still in shock. The way her face was carved up during the crash, for instance, kept her from feeling the cold of the snow. Soon fever would settle in the cracks, and she would be one of the many casualties of the accident. For now, she was alive. Even if she didn't understand how to truly be alive, she was here. And the dog had not driven her away.
She approached him with a stiff-legged walk. Her thin tail dragged tip-down through the snow, which shoveled out of the way of her broad shoulders. Soon enough, she was nearer to him - but not too close as to invite attack. She could smell him against the scent of ice, and basked in his company as one would bask in the sun, gathering strength through proximity alone. The thought had not crossed her mind quite yet to wonder, why was he here? Why was he just sitting, staring, waiting? If he was preparing to die, then Sechuan would be there for the free meal.
yes, i think they can intervene at any point. we are on their territory.. or borders, really!
He watched the dog as she approached, his expression somewhat attentive. Without being abashed, his gaze trailed plainly on her incurred wounds -- each of which looked quiet gruesome in appearance.
He did not recognize her, yet she seemed to fit the gamut of the Lab's favored test subjects - dubious breeding, moderate stature, and thus far, apparently somewhat social. His gaze then reverted back to the frontier where he knew a cache was. He was ever so hungry.
Like her, stiffness assuaged him -- and he rose tenderly to all fours and stalked forwards. Following his nose, the male started to carefully tread dangerously on pack territory. Thus far, he saw nor scented no wolves -- he was on high alert since his last forray into pack-lands -- he had no intention of being caught this time.
He was hunting something. She had never hunted, but instinct clued her in to his styled advance; head low, with constant and brief huffs of air, and a keen interest on the lands ahead. If that was his intention, she could aid - or rather, she would try. But still, the bitch was curious. While she trailed him wordlessly, she did it in a meandering, uninterested fashion; dubious of this strange fellow she had come across. If backup was needed, she would be there. But for the most part, Sechuan hung back upon the snowdrifts. Apprehensive, in this strange and forbidding place.
As she fell wordlessly behind him, the dark-furred male canted an ear backwards. Between huffs of fine snow he spoke, his voice hushed. "Stay alert. Be quiet." While it was command, it was done without any sort of admonition -- without halting to ensure her compliance, Dogmeat tentatively stepped further into the pack's perimeters.
About them, the frontier was rather flat -- flat enough that this time he was sure no wolves would spring from the rushes and take them by surprise. From their vantage, they would likely see a wolf long before it was within striking range. Easing himself into a predatory crawl, the lumbering canine slid in the direction of a small creek that gurgled besides them. He followed his nose, snuffing intently along the ground. Hunger fueled his brazenness -- and hunger alone drove him to be so careless of clear pack borders.
As soon as the command was uttered, Sechuan began to advance with more fervor. She was still wary of this dog, of his motives and his goals, and circled behind him like one of the crows in the trees. There was no hiding for her. The snow parted for each lumbering step Sechuan took, and she was not so nimble as to avoid stumbling - even on the flat land - from time to time. But she was silent still. Disinterested in conversation.
Her attention was divided between the dog (who, she noticed, was in better condition than herself presently) and the land ahead. What could he be hunting here, among the nothingness? Perhaps he had lost his mind in the crash - and now, only chased ghosts. She paused alongside him when they reached the flowing fresh water, and the bitch tentatively bowed her head to drink a few licks; but she shied from it quickly, as the cold felt sharp upon her teeth, and even sharper upon her wounds.
His companion's advances were rewarded with a curt pinning of his ears -- he looked up for a moment as she lapped the icy water. He held no love for the water's frigid state, and declined from joining her. Instead, he stalked slowly along the tall fronds of dead reed-grass, his nose pressed firmly along the earth.
He did this for a while -- sometimes he would circle -- sometimes he would stop and scratch the layer of snow back. The ground was tough in most areas, and in others, impenetrable.
At last, his efforts seemed to be rewarded -- his nose was rife with the scent of freshly killed possum. He had no recognition of the scent that had killed it -- it was certainly not of the wolven variety. Whatever had felled it had eaten only a little and left the remnants behind, likely because the earth was far too frozen to dig into. With a joyous growl the dog seized the frozen carcass and spun around, limping swiftly back towards neutral territory where he and his new companion could travel unharried.
There was a sudden sound, and this sparked the girl's jerking head and abrupt halt. But when she saw his figure dashing in another direction, she felt compelled once more to follow, and this time her pace nearly matched his own. Something had been uprooted, evidently, for the air smelled of pungent earth and -- meat? Instantly the female's mouth filled with saliva, and she was no longer hesitant about her path. As the two dogs trampled their way back to the safety of the no-mans-land, Sechuan's course did not cease, and she soon overtook the male's position. An eager snap of her jowls proved her purpose: to snatch away that prize which hung from his jaws, to pilfer it if need be, granted she could get a proper hold.
Hurriedly did they depart their scene of trespass, limbs outstretched and panting. Behind them the snow fluttered in their wake, rising in a pallid cloud and settling slowly back to the insensate earth.
Dogmeat was not a fast creature, and even his mach-speed gear was a slow lope. When the tan mix overcame him he was quick to slacken his pace -- though he growled as she drew near. He would have shared their frozen entree -- that was, until she tried to pilfer it from his jaws. Instantly all affable sensibility he felt dissolved. As she drew close he shied to the side sharply, though it was his sore side. With a snarl Dogmeat lumbered towards her in a lunge, his throat rumbling with a ferociously muffled roar. Reluctant to release his catch and equally as reluctant to strike with his favored limb, Dogmeat sought to bulldoze her downward and hopefully cow the stranger for her insolence.
This was what she wanted - more than the sagging meat which hung from his jaws, more than the escape from the land of the cages - she wanted to fight. She wanted to dole out some punishment to the monsters who had her imprisoned. But Sechuan knew that those beasts were not here. The wild was not a playground for humans and their misdeeds. This meant she could not get what she wanted - and thus, Dogmeat would become a surrogate.
He tried to dissuade her, but the sound of his rumbling only incited further action from the mutt. The dog lurched towards her, but did not relinquish his hold upon the prize. Sechuan side-stepped as best she could, but was lazy in her efforts, and allowed him to come in close with his defensive posturing - she knew how to fight for food, how to wrestle and steal after months on the street. There was only one of him.
Sechuan returned the maneuver but with more force. In her haste, she struck against him with her injured shoulder - slamming him with the right side, which hastily reminded her of the injury that lingered there. The gouge sprayed a fine line of blood and she faltered in her step, but did not relent. Snapping teeth greeted Dogmeat next; and she would not stop until he had given in.
All recourse and diplomacy was swiftly discarded as Dogmeat saw the dog rise to his threat -- challenging both his status and his welfare. His coarse fur flew outward in outrage, static and bristling -- and as the dog returned his growl with a fling of his shoulder and a flash of teeth, Dogmeat felt compelled to issue his own brand of vengeance. He dropped his meal then, favoring the prospect of surprise it may harbor for him.
With a rippling snarl that consumed his already contorted muzzle, the dog was flung back by the blow -- yet this did not soften his violent resentment for the tan-hide animal. As the dog's teeth flew towards him Dogmeat countered by lunging forward aggressively, both paws outsplayed to strike Sechuan down -- his preferred target the wound that had been opened by her original attack. Simultaneously he sought to counter her searching teeth by issuing his own retort -- his massive head swung down like a wrecking ball with teeth armed to the hilt to defend himself. He hoped to clutch the side of her cheek in his jaws and crush her -- though this left his shoulder and lower chest open to her teeth. He would wince and bear whatever damage she dealt him, but he would not moderate his blows. This time, he was not playing -- this time, he did not cow. This time he wished to punish and cripple the dog for her lapse of judgment.
So distracted was she by the physical contact of battle, of the sounds and the sensations of it, that Szechuan did not notice when the target of her aggression fell in to the snow. She was hell-bent on beating down this cur, in taking everything she could from him. He had his chance to drop the meat and flee - and now, rising to the challenge he posed despite her injuries - Szechuan would take the prize, and him as dessert.
His teeth were abruptly present, along with an unhindered snarl. Without the possum to keep him occupied, Dogmeat could do as he pleased. And in the flash between dropping and reacting, he was suddenly countering Szechuan's attempts. His paws narrowly missed their target as he lunged, and she side stepped; but his teeth made contact, scissoring in to the flesh of her cheek.
She withered in his grasp. A piercing whine-hiss declared her own defeat, and she pulled away quickly - losing a chunk of her damaged face in the process. The bitch stumbled and swayed, and then she sagged to the ground below just like the possum - absolutely distracted by her own pain.
Through gritted teeth the mongrel let loose a rumble, but it was a piteous sound indeed.
The brutality issued behind his reaction had been enough to wilt Sechuan's resolve -- she was quick to shrink from him, her voice high pitched amidst the snarls.
His shoulder and limb throbbed, but he was not about to display this openly lest Sechuan try her luck again. His hackles were flared as he slowed to a lumbering walk and swooped down upon his meal, turning about stiffly on his straight legs with his curled tail flared over his haunches. Delivering her one last contemptuous look, the bear-like dog stalked away from her in the hopes to enjoy his meal without her illfavored company.
Exit! :)
The target of her ire chose her moment of weakness to depart, instead of end her life. A mercy, maybe, but Sechuan saw no mercy in his inaction. She barely watched him leave due to the pain she now swam in; the level of anger in her voice becoming anguish, and then silence, as he departed. The blood pooled upon the earth and stained her neck with a streak of vibrant red - but Sechuan did not stay down for long. She suddenly lurched to her paws and began to march away; posture low in defeat, while precious ichor trailed behind.