Wolf RPG

 

She had told them both her plan. Upon arriving to the borders, she was met with quite a surprise. Whoever led the place had abandoned it; all the better, for her. Tonravik looked to her subordinates, the only wolves she knew, and wondered if the battle-ready trio would be met with much resistance. Surely the pack was directionless; there was not one scent that commanded the others, and Tonravik lifted her lip at this. Still, her sour look was easily translatable. Prepare yourselves. There was a chance they would not be well-met. But Tonravik would cow them into submission; this was her place, now. And so her tail lifted itself well above her hindquarters and Tonravik howled to the back in the dark of twilight, knowing in moments her subordinates would sing with her in different pitch. 

And then, she marched in, beginning to mark the territory and make it her own. There was little time to waste. In a matter of days, Tonravik would make this place formidable again. If they did not like it, they were free to go; whoever led them once before to Tonravik was a fickle creature for leaving as she had, with so much ripe for the taking. Her strut was sure and her defenses were ready, her eyes scanning the horizon for angry figures ahead. 

She strode steadfast and aware as they crossed into the territory known as the Spine. There were creatures were — at least one, Lotan — that she had encountered before. But the mysteries of the terrain had not been revealed to her now so Echelon's own exploration was tentative. Yet she did not stray far from Tonravik as they moved along the borders, only let her eyes linger briefly on the female that had also joined them. Like her aokkatti, she was a bear of a female in comparison to Echelon, who was often outsized and outweighed by others. And there was a fire that burned within her crisply as well, the very thing that Tartok would utilize in the future to come.

With her eyes trained on the forestry of the elevation around them, Echelon stayed quiet and waited. It would only be a matter of time before this guideless pack came out to seek them and if they were not spotted on sight alone, they would be spotted by smell in due time. Provided they were a vigilant sort, of course.

They followed in Tonravik's wake with swift steps, their intent clear among the three of them. The bump in the road would have been the Alpha but the scent of her on the borders was stale and un-renewed as of recent. This pack was without a leader, without the being that bound them together. This was perfect timing then, and meant that the black female could claim the pack without much issue, if any at all. They would assist her here, help build the pack to glory and strength. 

With Echelon on one side, Kroc remained on Tonravik's other. Her expression was determined, her gaze observant and watchful, staying on the horizon to spot any that approached them. It was simply a matter of time, and if none responded, they would take the land all the same. 

Tonravik moved stealthily, shoulder blades rolling sharply; if she were to be an ocean dweller, she would then be most comparable to the shark as its fins sliced the waters and the air. But they came across nothing, no one. None to question her, none to prevent this; and so, her pace quickened, her eyes continuing to flit left and right for sign of wolves that would follow their leader... But there was none of that, here. Tonravik knew well that without a leader, pack order and pack life was, well, a sad state. 

She would fix this. This would never happen again. 

The wolf continued in her actions, marking, taking her time, making the land her own. The leader, whoever it had been, was long gone; she had abandoned her post, and her wolves. Tonravik had looked forward to taking the wolf down, her aggravation with Tuwawi sticking to her... but this, this would be fine. The wolf had abandoned her wolves, as Tonravik would never do. Her ears shifted atop her head, listening for sounds around her, and knowing her wolves would notify her of anything. 

It was quiet, perhaps almost too quiet for Echelon's liking. If not for the abandonment of the leader that was there, she would have almost thought that the whole pack had up and left. Given its state, she would not have been surprised if some had, not being of the ambitious sort to crawl out and ascend the constructs of rank to lead. Now, they wouldn't need to. They would all have Tonravik and her merry band, for all the mirth that they lacked.

A discontented sigh left her, as she was surprised with the headway that they were making. How easy this was! It almost didn't seem fair, not after the chaos that had ensued at the glacier some time ago. To say that Echelon hadn't wanted to be met with fangs and growls was untrue; she wanted some ire, some bold stance that they weren't willing to let complete strangers consume them by merely taking over their borders and working their way in.

But then again, perhaps they were not of the able-bodied. Perhaps they were lame and weak. And if that were the case, then she prepared herself to do what had to be done with them if they put up their own little fight. Absently, the smallest of the trio licked at her chops and continued to keep a vigilant watch of their surroundings as they progressed.

The eerie silence ruled around them. It made her hackles rise, uncomfortable with how easy this was. This was not right. Did the wolves of the spine not care who intruded on their territory? Did they think that any wolf should be able to just waltz in on their lands and throw a fucking party? The thought made a low, short growl slip from her vocal chords, pale teeth bared for a moment before she overcame that brief display of aggression. 

Like the other two, she'd been expecting... more and now, her usual aggression had no physical outlet. So she made it verbal, her thought spoken aloud. "Idiots don't know how to guard their own territory." Which was fucking pathetic, but at least her work was cut out for her. As soon as the three of them finished this, Kroc would peel off and start a patrol and start maintaining the borders, unlike the curs that lived here who either didn't know how (which was stupid) or didn't want to (which was fucking stupid).

She fell quiet again though, moving in tandem with Echelon and Tonravik, waiting and watching just the same for one of the Spine to actually grow a backbone and come confront them. 

Tonravik lacked discretion as she lumbered upward. Still, nothing. Even when scree loudly ricocheted as it scrabbled ever-down, nothing. Kroc verbally echoed her sentiment, but Tonravik growled quietly. The territory was good for ambushing, if the wolves utilized it. They could come from the woodwork. A sharp look was given to Kroc; they had no idea what they were up against. Upward and upward they moved, but Tonravik did not allow herself to feel cocky. What were they up against? 

The leader of the trio still did not pause. "Fan out," she rumbled in their language, Inuktitut. "The wind is in our favor." From here, she could smell no wolves nearby. Her erect lobes were perked. It was late, the witching hour... but patrols ought to never end. Tonravik would teach these wolves. It was relatively clear they had been alone for some time that there was no order. The pack, more likely than not, was just here due to the shelter the land offered. She waited where she was, head low to the earth as she listened, waited... Her subordinates would return to her, she knew they would not go too far. 

Wordlessly, Echelon fanned out from her aokkatti and their companion. She headed for the lower climes of the terrain to expand their efforts and search. It would take time, but she did not believe the place to be as abandoned as it seemed. If they did not find others now, they certainly would towards sunrise and the heralding in of the day.

For now she held no wayward thoughts on the wolves here. Like before at the glacier, she did not know what they would face the further into the territory though her impatience tempted her to suss them out. Along whatever scant scent markers she found, Echelon would squat and briefly relieve herself; if they were not seen then they would be smelled in time. They would not be going anywhere.

Irritated though she was, it was more with the sense of unease wriggling under her skin more than anything. This place was hollow. Empty. And no one sought to defend what they were supposed to protect. It left a bad taste in her mouth, one that would no doubt wash away once Tonravik was in charge. 

The command changed her course of movement, heading opposite the direction of Echelon to cover more ground. Along the way, they marked the land, marked their support of Tonravik's claim before moving again, searching. She did not stop, checking an empty den she passed by to no avail. Long stale scent littered the den and it held no interest for her. They were either all inland or all just not here. 

A sharp sound off to her right made her head swivel, gold eyes searching. A rodent. Normally, she might have snatched it up but now was not the time. She paused, scenting again, lifting her nose to the wind only to be met with... Nothing. Choking down her growl again, Kroc glanced back at her leader with a silent shake of her head.

She stood there now, a quiet sentinel in the night, watching and waiting for the ghosts of the Spine to come out and face their new kin.

The only sounds were the sounds of the night. An owl. Crickets. But from the Spine wolves, there was nothing. This victory was an easy one, and Tonravik let out a snort. This task was done. They were far into the territory. Now, to mark it, make it theirs. Tonravik scoured the horizon and still, when her glare summoned nothing but further silence, Tonravik bore her teeth and began to make work of claiming the land. Her defenses were still high, and she listened hungrily for the sound of anything other than their breathing, the patterns of which she had memorized. Anything out of sync, anything new, she would recognize and spring upon it.

As it was, for the time, it wasn't the case. Kroc and Echelon found nothing, for if they had, she would know already. It was still quiet. With all the confidence and calm in the world, the woman continued leaving her mark. She could smell them. But when they did not come, she continued.

The silence persisted.

Where discomfort had reigned, or even anger, it slowly began to ebb away as the moments went on without interruption. This was too easy. Simply too easy. Somehow Echelon thought that the challenge did not lie in them coming over those borders, that it would come later, perhaps much later into their takeover. The silence did not become unnerving but rather comforting that they had made it this far without walking into open jaws lying in ambush for them.

A slow smile spread evenly across her face then and her confidence skyrocketed. She marked the territory boldly, certain that it was now theirs more than anyone else. No one had come along to step up and give these wretched creatures instruction or distinction. Well now, they would have it.

Still. Quiet. The air shifted and Kroc scented it again, though to no avail. The wolves here were nowhere to be seen, tucked away in their 'safe' little holes while the Tartok wolves invaded. But was it invasion now that Tonravik took this land for the pack? Surely, with the betterment of this failing pack, it could not be spun negatively. Should the wolves who resided here decide to stay, their leader would be superior to any they'd had before. 

Kroc squatted again, marking the land, rubbing her shoulder against the trunk of a tree, against the dirt of the land. This pack would not be failed like this again. Not with Tonravik here. No Tartok wolf would lead a shabby, sorry pack. No, these wolves would be taught pride and vigilance under the guidance of the newly proclaimed Issumator.