Wolf RPG

However long it had been since they had escaped that facility, he didn't know. All of the days had bled into each other. The band that they had been was dwindling, he felt, as time had gone on long enough that seeing the comrades he had days before were now less and less. Occasionally, he heard their baying in the night, but he also heard the wolves. Wolves, he thought bitterly. While the essence of newfound freedom was especially good, there were times when Twister found he would have much rather stayed in the confines of the facility. Let them do their testing. Let them do whatever it was that they wanted.

Because compared to this, he never knew when his end was coming. Death could have literally been right around the corner. For some, he knew without a doubt that it had been. It was like being at war again, only this time his enemy knew the lay of the land better than he ever would. A poor ruddy stream offered him a drink on the rainy day, and an unmistakable touch of coldness had settled upon his dirty coat. He was so very thin now, so tired, but still he pressed on. He had hoped that out here, somewhere on that vast, seemingly empty plain, there would be a carcass not too riddled by death and decay. Something he could pull scraps from. Twister feared that there were not enough of them to try and bully the wolves now for purchase of anything.

Jaws was on the move back inland from the coast when the pangs of hunger started to call his attention away from his reconnoitering, focusing it instead on locating sustenance. He was about to turn south toward the treeline, expecting better hunting there than in the open, when a breeze of wind alerted him to a potentially effortless meal. His pace quickened as he tracked the scent with skillful precision, soon coming upon its source... a young deer had succumbed to winter. The snow around it was tramped by its mother's hooves; a single trail lead away from it.

The coywolf was about to feed when movement caught his eye. Not far off, a lean figure walked. Jaws recognized it to be another dog, perhaps tracking the same carcass he had just found. To have seen one dog in the park was a surprise, to see two was so unexpected that Jaws rationed there must be a connection. His gaze locked on the canine, he simply waited to see if it would approach. There was more than enough meat for two, but Jaws was prepared to defend his find if this dog proved to be hostile.

He was largely unaware of what the hunger had done to him, how his awareness of the world around him dwindled to nothing. It wasn't truly nothing, but it may as well have been. It was akin to having tunnel vision, as now he had scented that little bit of carcass nothing else mattered. It had wafted to him in spite of the weather and now, it drew him out in a very driven way.

Twister was almost upon it when he saw the inky etch of a wolf in the weathered grass. And it was without thought that he pulled his lips back into a silent snarl, letting a growl bubble up from deep within. The wolf didn't need this kill, this leftover remain. He needed it. It was more than a want, it was a demand that screamed at him that if he wanted to survive, he needed as much as he could take in.

Jaws had no guesses as to where these dogs were coming from as he had only ever encountered the beasts near human settlements, and there were none of those around. Although this one was in better shape than the first one, it was still thin with hunger. Whatever their story, it was not likely a pleasant one.

As the brindled dog approached, Jaws narrowed his eyes. This was one aggressive and clearly desperate for the food the coywolf was guarding. But he was hardly a threat for the well-fed and powerful Jaws. "Maybe if you ask nicely, I'll share," he growled back to the dog, his ears thrust forward and tail stiff. His survival instinct would not permit him to give up the food even if he did not need it badly, and even though he was willing to share he would not do so unless the canine calmed itself and acted civil.

The wolf responded much in the way that he expected it to, though perhaps to call the creature before him a wolf was stretching it. There was something almost doggish about this one too, yet the smell of him told Twister that he was not of the same cloth as himself. That in turn, made him even less convinced that the coywolf would share. This one probably had no pack and in light of his better fed stature, the experiment canine knew he wouldn't give up his meal.

Instead, he dove in to start another fight through his desperation.

Jaws gaping as he launched himself forward, his intent was to try and overpower this creature much in the way he had tried to do others. It didn't matter what he struck so long as he gained purchase. The malinois was not interested in this sharing concept any longer, evident by the factor he was alone in the wilderness now. This was nothing more than survival of the fittest now — no one would be coming to save him or the others.

Either the dog did not believe him or he was past the point of sharing, which meant Jaws now had a fight on his paws. To someone outside looking in, they might think it would be in Jaws' better interest to let the dog have the fawn rather than risking injury - he was, after all, well fed and in not immediately threatened by starvation. While there was a lot of logic in that thought, the coywolf worked on a different rationale. His experience had taught him to eat when you can, that food was always a fight worth fighting. You never knew when your next meal would come, and the tables could be turned quickly. Around the corner Jaws may find himself injured or burdened with illness, then unable to hunt effectively. In such a situation he would need every last bit of the stores built up on his body.

Jaws leapt aside as the dog lunged towards him, the canine's teeth barely catching on his muzzle. The coywolf was now bristling, angered. "Last chance!" he snarled. "Park your wretched ass or die in my teeth!" This was it, either the dog settled down and took his offer to share, or he accepted Jaws' promise to kill him.

He wouldn't stand down. It was ingrained that he took orders by another, but there was no longer another. Long forgotten was the warmth in love or the heat of the desert sands beneath his feet. Twister lunged again, aiming his once powerful, now scarres jaws for the body of the coywolf. He would take him down for this mere morsel, he felt he could survive with the resurgance of adrenaline to his thinning veins.

Jaws did not want to fight this dog - did not want to fight anyone - but the canine had left him no choice. His final warning fell on deaf ears, and the dog had launched another attack so quickly after the last that the coywolf was unable to dodge it this time. The other male's teeth sank viciously into his body and Jaws roared, his compassion forgotten in a defensive rage. He did not hesitate to retaliate, making a strike at the dog's hind leg. He held nothing back; he was looking to inflict heinous damage if not a break, to throttle some of the dog's manoeuvrability, if not deter him altogether.

The assualt to his hind leg was enough to break his hold on the coywolf. He reacted to the sound with a cry caught in his throat; it was quiet in comparison to the snarling that followed. A loud crack had come with the bite — the true damage done Twister did not acknowledge though the pain in that hind leg was shocking. It wasn't a break but it was a close, unquestionably fractured well.

He wheeled around on the remaining, hobble-free limbs and went back in for another attempt, grabbing and probing for a tender hunk of scruff to gain the upper hand.

Jaws' tactic had worked, although the sound of cracking bone had caused a flicker of compassion to reignite in the back of his skull. He truly took no pleasure in inflicting pain on this dog, had no desire to fight him but was forced into it. But that compassion was again forgotten amid the stirring sounds of snarling. With his leg badly injured, the dog was not as quick to make another strike, snapping at Jaws' bladed scruff but catching only air as Jaws ducked out of reach. Digging his hind paws in, the coywolf lunged, looking to connect in a tackle to send the dog tumbling to the ground where he might be able to convince him to 'tap out'.

What will the dice gods decide, wonders Kris, who also wonders if she did the roll right.

Truthfully, he was becoming surprised with the deftness that his opponent moved. But he was relentless in admitting that he could not keep up, that with every blow he was simply one step closer to an untimely end. His blow missed and before he could gather himself to take flight after the coywolf, he was broadsided by the spry blot of ink.

He went down, no doubt with the hybrid well upon him, and he once more reached out with his teeth to grasp after the tangle of limbs that came with their noisy battle.

With teeth snapping at his legs and almost closing on them, Jaws held the dog only briefly, enough to snarl loudly at him. "I invited you to dinner, why don't you just accept the invitation!" he then sprang free of the dog, not wanting to have his legs chewed. His guard did not falter for a moment, his limbs were tense and dedicated to reacting fast. Jaws hoped the dog had a flicker of sense left in its maddened head, to know that the coywolf could have went for the killing bite then and there while he had the advantage of position. But still, Jaws held on to his desire not to kill the dog despite promising to do so the last time he warned him and the warning was unheeded.

Suddenly, it seemed as though the coywolf relented upon him. In what seemed a flash, the dark figure vanished from his narrowed field of vision. What rolled back in the form of awareness was the staggering pain he had ignored as he climbed unsteadily to his feet. He didn't hear the words coming out of the coywolf's mouth, but he understood the tone all the same.

As quickly as he could, Twister broke away from the scene. It wasn't like him to admit defeat as he snaked low and quickly between the swatches of grass, but he knew it was not worth his life. He would find food elsewhere in time, he hoped, but for now he would have to make do with a poor and nowhere near quick escape from the creature.

He did not allow himself to consider the fact that he was unquestionably a pitiful sight.

Nor did he look to see if he was being pursued.

Just when Jaws thought the dog was never going to give up his foolhardy pursuit, the dog took off on swift paws. The coywolf seated himself and watched the dog run, a bit bewildered by the beast's sudden change of heart and equally as disappointed that it could not be convinced to share. Jaws frowned, his ears falling slightly toward his skull as he glanced at the fawn. But he would not allow himself to dwell on the other's fate, he had done all he could and now it was time for him to enjoy what he had earned. Jaws dug into the fawn, savoring its tender flesh.