Wolf RPG

Rain clouds gathered on the horizon as Echelon had made a steady climb of the terrain. She felt drawn to her aokkatti for more than one reason, chief among them being a desire to reconnect with her. Spring was well upon those wolves of Tartok, and while they were seemingly beginning to bolster their numbers, Echelon did not readily assume that they were about to move on from the region as before.

Wriggling through the various niches and crannies, the lithe wolf carried a plumped hare between her jaws. She did not bring it to hide it for herself away from the prying eyes of others, but instead felt it pertinent to share with her aokkatti. Where she was, that exact location she didn't know, but she knew that Tonravik never strayed very far away. With only a minute pause to jostle the meal playfully -- Echelon still never one to just not play with food in better spirits -- before picking up her pace once more. Tonravik was near, she knew it.

Tonravik had been meandering and exploring, her urge to settle driving her to find some sort of rendezvous. Her uncertainty to join others had her doing this; after the Glacier, Tonravik was not sure she could follow anyone. It was simply a domino effect for the Tartok wolf who knew her place was well above what she might accept in the meantime. And accept she never would. Nor was she certain she could tolerate it. Her mind slipped to Mordecai and their meeting, reminded of her own words. She was not sure she could follow; and he thought luck might suffice. No, Tonravik would need more than luck to survive becoming a subordinate. Tonravik would need the marrow removed from her bone and her spirit sucked from her body.

She left Echelon to her own devices for the while, knowing that if she was called she would come. Echelon knew much the same. Currently, Tonravik sniffed at the wood of some forest, headed toward a nearby Mountain she had yet to explore. Tonravik would know it when she found her mountain; the mountain meant to host Tartok for generations. 

Around the next bend, she did not find her aokkatti. This came across for a moment as disheartening, but Echelon remained dedicated to her search of her. She paced onward and with haste. Minutes later along the curvature of the terrain, she spotted a dark, bearish figure mingling with the forestry that was seemingly sheared off with elevation. She attempted to chuff at her superior jovially with her catch, but it came out muffled. As a result, she almost lost her grip on the hare but snapped it up at the last second... and thus began yet another moment of her playing with food.

Food -- she might have added and caused her to stop shortly thereafter -- that wasn't hers.

Bounding recklessly down the path, skittering rocks this way and that, she willingly allowed herself to use the undergrowth and Tonravik herself as a means to stop. They were alone for now and rightfully so, Echelon delved into a lighter demeanor that was not entirely befitting of her. It was her gesture of happiness, even though as she pressed herself against the larger counterpart, her face remained expressionless. She gestured to Tonravik with her quarry, flapping the hare about. Her I maed u dis story for the week.

Tonravik heard her inferiors approach and turned to watch her, furrowing her brows up until the very minute Echelon landed into her side. A low grunt was all that was emitted, but Echelons weight did little in making the wall that she was shift. Her almond eyes watched as Echelon waved the hare about, and Tonravik was quick to snap at it to attempt to grab hold. Tonravik did not know that this quarry Echelon had between her jaws was not her own, and surely she would have reprimanded the terror had she of. 

But she did not. 

And so Tonravik sought to grab at it again, missing the first time, her jowls closing all the faster to grip what Echelon had obtained, a low growl coming forth as her tail waved. 

A giddy sense overtook her as Tonravik tried to grab for it. For moments, Echelon forgot that the hare was not hers to keep, that she was going to give it away. She tried to keep it away for a few moments as the larger wolf snapped after it, only to finally let her take it away. With a low sweeping wave of her own tail, the smaller creature settled towards the ground to avoid that incoming reprimand -- if Tonravik hadn't noticed that she hadn't meant to keep it, she knew it was coming. And she welcomed this bout of their hierarchy; what good was it if she couldn't test it once in a while in good fun?

Tonravik was more temperamental as of late. With the coming of Spring meant the coming of something else entirely in her life that she only instinctively understood. Tonravik was swift, but Echelon was quicker in whipping her head away, a loud, resounding click echoing throughout the landscape at a failure that frustrated her. It was play, but Tonravik was not in the mood. Typically she would have let it go and left Echelon to her own devices, but reprimand felt necessary. Even though in the end Tonravik lurched forward and ripped it from her fiercely, she dropped it, feeling something else needed to be done before she could enjoy the prize.

She lorded over her subordinate angrily, her ears thrusting aggressively forward. And although Echelon sunk low to the earth, Tonravik snapped close to her face in admonishment, an angry, irate, tense snarl rattling loose from her throat. But she accepted the gesture all the same and moved away from her, back to the gift Echelon had brought, tearing at it absently.

No fear reflected in her gaze as she stole a curious glance to her aokkatti. Echelon did not care for being loathed over, but knew this was always apart of how things were. Perhaps moreover, she didn't understand part of this lording over; it lingered, as though something about Tonravik was distracted and absent from the present. A handful of weeks separated them in age, though whether they were closer together in age or further apart than Echelon felt was lost to memory. Tonravik had always been the larger one and now, it seemed that she was the first one who came into maturity.

Slicking her ears back as she shuffled away lowly from her aokkatti, Echelon chose a spot not far off to give her privacy. She sat with her back to her, this time undeniably hurt that her game hadn't been better received. A little lording over her was typical, but this? She couldn't have recalled the last time that she felt Tonravik was genuinely irate with her, rejecting her company with nothing more than a snarl. Not unlike a spoiled brat, the inky Phase huffed a plume of hot air into the cool sky of the mountains.

It had been a long time. Tonravik had the patience of a saint with most all things, but as her season came it would appear for the time, she had none. Tonravik did not move far off from Echelon, and fell onto her rear-end and began to eat the gift Echelon had brought her. Tonravik ate it, all of it, leaving not even the ears behind to tell of its passing. No, there was only tiny bones now, and sparsely any; Tonravik stepped on them and moved toward the huffy Echelon, unaware of her hurt.

Tonravik thought nothing of these changes if only because they were happening to her, and she could not look outside of herself. She moved to sniff at Echelon, and when nothing about her own subordinates scent bothered her, she shifted to move around her, to continue to scout the land. It would appear she herself was annoyed or aggravated no more. 

Though Tonravik approached her, Echelon pretended not to notice, as though she were daydreaming. But in reality, she could not help but be tense knowing that she lingered there, confused by the anger that she had received. It had not been jest and perhaps that was where the problem lied — Echelon always thought herself to respect her aokkatti, but this time it would have appeared that she had even successfully aggravated Tonravik.

So when she moved on past her, a moment of deliberation crossed the inky Phase's mind. To ignore her or to follow her? Ultimately, when it seemed that that anger had left her companion fully, Echelon did follow... but she trailed behind considerably. This time, she was left to study all that was left in Tonravik's wake and among these, was a scent she did not quite recognize.

Tonravik moved, not looking over her shoulder to see if Echelon followed. Tonravik knew Echelon to be sensitive in some matters, but did not think this would be one of them. Truth be told, her rush of anger was quick to fade in response to Echelon's complacency. Ever the pinhead, Tonravik thought that Echelon would be on that page, also. Her ear twitched as Echelon lurked behind her, slower than normal.

That prompted Tonravik to stop altogether. The behemoth looked over her shoulder, tilting her head. It was clear Echelon was sulking, and Tonravik snorted. A loud woof fell from her then, gruff and echoing on the objects around them. Come on, the bark prompted. Her tail twitched in a stiff wave, a show of Tonravik's impatience. But at the very least, there was no anger or annoyance toward her counterpart to be found. Only the eagerness of a conqueror wanting to find the land she would soon stake her claim to.

When Tonravik looked back, Echelon found her own pace come to a halt. This time, she was met with Tonravik's impatience rather than her anger and that was enough to make her come eagerly to fall in behind her. There was still much to be done and this she knew. If anything, their luck was about to change and they would find the one thing that would make Tartok become whole again — a territory befitting of their claim.