Wolf RPG

Slowly, but surely, the four three little things that Fox and Peregrine had created began to look a little more like what they would grow into. The little tan one, of course, would never grow into his true self. He would always been a week-old baby, forever trapped in his tiny, lifeless body. Fox shook the thought away, reminding herself that there was no real way to tell how he had perished. It was better to assume that he had simply slipped away. He'd always been the smallest of their litter, and she'd even expressed concern about as much to Peregrine.

The loss, however tragic, had brought Fox closer to her remaining three children. The disdain she had for them grew smaller each day, and she felt she had finally gotten into the routine of things. Just now, the three of them were deep in their dreams, one tucked under her hind leg, and the other two whimpering softly in their sleep. As much as it guilted her to admit it, taking care of three was easier than four.

After one failed attempt, Crow was not about to simply allow a second.

She'd been prowling a site that was certain to contain a snowshoe hare or two when a fisher, stealthy as could be, crept into her peripheral vision. As its beady gaze zeroed in to the flick of a white ear, it appeared entirely unconcerned by the proximity of a dangerous predator seated further up the food chain than itself. Crow waited accordingly, an opportunist of the highest degree.

It was within moments that the fisher bolted and the hare sprang, although not nearly soon enough on the part of the latter. Tiny claws sank into supple flesh, which was precisely when the second predator struck. She launched herself, quick as a dart, and by the time a multitude of fatal bite wounds had been inflicted to the hare she was stretching her neck forth with an accompanying flash of gleaming white. The fisher reacted with frantic aggression, managing to swipe its needle-like claws across the bridge of her muzzle before Crow's teeth crushed its neck.

And with that, two birds were stoned at once... or something.

After taking the liberty of ripping into the hare for herself and downing a sizable portion as though she hadn't eaten in days, she cached the remains, scruffed the limp neck of the fisher and headed off in the direction of the alpha pair's den.

Upon arriving, the little black female half-splayed her forelegs into a bow, tossed the carcass gift slightly to the front, then lowered her hind end with her belly pressed to the ground. She then gave a soft woof of greeting and invitation, proceeding to lick the dried blood from her previously bleeding muzzle and thump her tail behind her.

Commotion, followed by an unfamiliar "woof" outside the den caused Fox to bristle, and she immediately corralled her three remaining children to the furthest depths of the den. The new mother would not allow another to be taken from her. They wailed (especially Wildfire, as usual), but Fox ignored their cries and went to the mouth of the den, the hackles on her fur only smoothing back when she realized that the stranger had brought a gift. If there was one way to win Fox's heart, it was through food.

She assumed this new recruit had been brought in by either Elwood or Finley, considering both she and Peregrine had been mighty busy with the children. Even so, Fox was wary of the girl, especially so close to the firebirds. "Who are you?" she asked, point-blank. Not awaiting the answer to her question, Fox snapped up the gift and stood over it, giving the stranger a hairy eyeball. Behind her, the children mewled, but they were slowly becoming quieter and quieter.

The commencement of shuffling and wailing within the den prompted Crow to flatten her very plush ears against her skull and thump her tail all the more wildly. A small female (smaller than herself, even) appeared in the threshold, and Crow immediately noted the smoothing of bristled hackles. The little black female tucked her tail against one haunch, but did not cease the sign of enthusiasm it had a mind to display. The alpha female then emerged in full and claimed the gift carcass with a sharply delivered question of just who the stranger was.

“Crow Corvidae,” she chirped brightly, with obliging and submissively averted eyes which shone. If Fox had been anyone else, she might not have thought to offer her surname, but Crow already knew who she was from discussions she’d shared previously with her wandering sister. She’d already caught a clear image of the other female before respectfully aiming her eyes elsewhere, and she couldn’t help voicing the recognition that followed. “You must be Fox,” she observed, because the resemblance was extraordinary.

Another bird name. If they kept this up, Redhawk Caldera was going to be more of a flock than a pack. Her memory being the way it was (see: poor), Fox thought nothing of the girl's last name. It had no significance to her at that point, seeing as Magpie had only said it in passing. Crow then assumed that Fox was indeed Fox, and the Alpha nodded. "Yep," she replied, "the one and only." Well, that probably wasn't true. Surely there were other wolves out there in the world named Fox. It was a pretty obvious choice for a red wolf.

The new mother glanced back at her brood for a moment, then to Crow. "Thanks for the... what exactly is this thing?" she said, nosing at the dead creature at her feet. It was too big to be a weasel, but it wasn't the right color for a badger, either. In fact, Fox wasn't sure she'd ever come across such an animal. Considering the Crestwood family loved to name their offspring after animals, it always amazed Fox when she came across an animal she hadn't identified before.

Fox didn’t voice recognition of her own when Crow offered her name, but the little black female consciously refrained from enlightening her further. It was entirely possible and altogether fair if the relation held no meaning for the alpha female. In fact, Crow interpreted the lack of comment as a sign and assurance that her own slate was clean and she was free make what she would of herself without the possible burden of family ties in a pack that was unfamiliar to her. She was quite comfortable without the addition of a bias either for or against her just then.

The touch of ego exhibited when Fox confirmed her name was endearing to Crow, who smiled, although when questioned as to what animal she’d schlepped over, her brow began to furrow before it smoothed and gave in to the grin that followed. She glanced at the dead animal for a moment, then away again to demonstrate she had no intention of stealing it back. “It’s a fisher! Which is a… larger variety of marten, you might say. Not quite as common.” A thought she’d had earlier while hunting during the first round struck her for the second time. “Would you have thought ill of me for bringing you a fox?” Because it had almost happened.

Fisher. Huh. Fox stowed it toward the back of the den, knowing that she would be hungrier later in the day. For now, though, she thought it pertinent to at least give this newcomer some conversation. Getting to know the newest recruits was an important part of being a leader, even if she was looking after the children. Crow then asked a question about bringing a fox instead of some other creature, and the Alpha shrugged. "I probably wouldn’t have eaten it," she replied, "but I know Peregrine would have." For whatever reason, Fox just couldn't bring herself to eat one. It felt like some sort of weird cannibalism.

"Would you eat a crow?" Fox asked with a tilt of her head. Would Peregrine eat a peregrine? Would Magpie eat a magpie? Would Dove eat a dove? They probably all had slightly different answers with different reasoning, of course, but Fox was curious.

She took a more relaxed position as she watched Fox stash the kill within the den, although did not rise from where she lay. When her curiosity was answered and returned, she smiled and nodded without judgement despite the fact that she herself was of the mind that all food was game. “I would, but the circumstances are important… particularly cause of death. I.e., I try to avoid eating diseased flesh,” she replied in a matter-of-fact manner. This applied to plenty of prey, of course, but she’d encountered too many dead crows in particular that smelled off to respond in the affirmative without qualifying her choice.

“So: ‘Fox’, ‘Peregrine’… are the kids named after animals, too?” she asked lightly, turning the subject of conversation to the little wildlings that were now (for the most part) quieter, even in the brief absence of their mother. The kill she’d brought was really for their benefit, after all.

Perhaps Crow was more willing to eat a crow because she didn't really look much like one aside from her coloration. She was black, but she lacked a beak, wings, and feathers. All of those things were essential to crows. Maybe if foxes didn't look so much like Fox, she wouldn't have a problem with it at all. Still, avoiding diseased creatures was a good idea, which meant that Crow at least had some kind of decent head on her shoulders.

"One, so far," Fox replied. She paused for a moment, then disappeared into the den, plopping Nightjar out in front of Crow. "This little guy is Nightjar. It’s some kind of bird, I think." The mother only left the wriggling child out for a small moment before she picked him back up and shuttled him into the darkness of the den. The children were no doubt anxious to greet the visitor, but Fox wasn't quite comfortable enough with Crow to allow it.

Returning to the mouth of the den, Fox explained the naming situation of the other two. "We also have a little red girl named Wildfire… although she looks more like a dhole to me. And the third one, a little black girl, hasn’t yet been named. It’s customary where I come from that children don’t get their names until the moon has made a three-quarter turn." Fox took a breather, realizing this was the most she'd talked about the kids since they'd been born. Usually, Peregrine was the one doing all the talking. She took it as a good sign.

The two continued talking for some time before the squalls of hungry children ushered Fox to say her goodbyes and go back into the den.