Days came and went, as did nights. Tonravik was relentless in her guardianship, as stalwart as the mountains themselves in keeping undesirables out. Presently, Tonravik moved in groundeating strides, the length of them easily overtaking a yapping coyote that had likely come to take residence here in the once-leaders absence. Not anymore. Tonravik was merciful in its killing, jaws grabbing it from the scruff as she gave it an abrupt shake. She would kill it, but her attempt here was halfhearted. Tonravik herself bayed into the wood, hoping to draw the attention of one of her subordinates. It was time the Spine rose from the dead.

This would be an easy kill, but one that would at the very least unify her with one of her subordinates. She could kill the thing on her own, but she desired something more from this task here. Action. Action from the pack. She knew she could take it down. Had the subordinates here become lazy without a leader?

As their leader was ever constant in her vigil, so too was her reptilian-named subordinate. Kroc regularly stayed up late into the night and rose early in the morning, operating on minor amounts of sleep. She didn't care for slumber anyhow, and her body had learned after many years that more than a few was simply a luxury, not a necessity. Dreams were useless anyhow and the creature saw no gain in having imaginary images splash across her mind.

She was moving along the borders on one of her patrols when the call went up, drawing her attention. Her direction adjusted, tail flicking behind her as her gait lengthened, covering large amounts of ground in smaller amounts of time. Tonravik came into view soon enough after that and Kroc issued a low howl to signify her presence, approaching her Alpha with a quickened pace. 

Gold eyes moved from their focus on the black she-wolf to their quarry. A feral grin spread across her expression, the thought of food causing her mouth to salivate. Peeling away from the Tartok wolf, Kroc widened their range to run on the other side of the coyote, happily assisting with the hunt. 

She also had heard the call raised up and came running, though from her vantage point Echelon was able to see the coyote as it tried to flee. Kroc was quickly after it and though she did not initially spot Tonravik, she knew that her aokkatti would not be far behind at all. Echelon burst through the undergrowth to join the fray with a snarl, though when it boiled down to it the coyote was now much smaller than she on the grand scale of things. It snapped back at her sudden appearance, trying to stay a step ahead of its pursuers with little luck. Without missing a step, the dark-haired Echelon snapped back after it, tearing at its tawny hide with mute but still evident glee of her own.

Moving full speed ahead, Tonravik bowled after the thing at a quicker pace. Now Kroc and Echelon had joined her, and her tail waved over her back as the trio chased the thing without much haste but plenty of intent. Tonravik watched as Echelon snapped at it, and then she herself picked up the pace to mimic the action. Tonravik lurked behind while Echelon and Kroc lurked on either side of the critter. The coyotes had made themselves at home here, given no one had chased them away in the absence of any and all leadership. Their stay here would be short lived, in the most literal of ways. 

When it snapped at Echelon, Tonravik lashed at its hind legs, watching as she sent the coyote reeling toward the coywolf with sinister delight in her eyes, giving first dibs to the dark wolf and moving in to follow suit.

When Tonravik volleyed the coyote back towards her, Echelon did not miss the opportunity that present itself. She went headlong into the fray of its panicked responses, perhaps even recklessly, and struck its throat with speed and precision. Whatever cry it may have rallied up to warn others was cut short and abrupt, like the pitiful squeaking of a dying mouse as she crushed its windpipe and felt it between her jaws. Echelon shook it with vigor, willing the others to tear it apart as well before the very life it had been living snuffed itself out.

Kroc's teeth snapped, at some point guiding the coyote back into the web of wolves, intent on making sure it stayed within their grasp. She'd smelt these thieves previously during her new, self-appointed patrols and until now, she hadn't actually seen one around their territory. Now though, they would let their wrath fall on this singular coyote and show the rest of them that the Spine was no longer a safe haven for them. The coyotes here would be run out and if they did not leave, they would die, as this one did. 

As Echelon made the kill, Kroc neared to close her jaws around a limb and pull the wet sound of flesh tearing music to her ears. A mighty tug and the leg came free of the body, which she dropped, immediately going for another. 

Echelon killed it swiftly, and Kroc went for a leg, tearing it from the beast swiftly. Blood and skin flew in the air, painting her as she ran with them. With the thing taken care of, she was sure that any other coyotes would take note of this occurrence and keep out. Surely it would take more than one kill to prove her conviction and how serious she was; that was fine. Tonravik herself moved to make a grab at the coyote, gripping its hindquarters and tugging herself, pulling it in her direction to incite a game of tug-o-war. She pulled in her direction again, violently, shaking her head and letting out a guttural growl.

Kroc headed toward the fray, and Tonravik eyed her as she tried to ground herself, insistently pulling with her whole weight. It was still halfhearted, but Tonravik was quite clearly enjoying herself.

With its life snuffed out like a flame, Echelon was not at all surprised to find her comrades diving in to partake in a little additional slaughter. When Tonravik grabbed at one end and pulled sharply, Echelon reversed her own direction to hold her ground. She snarled at her end, sounding far more possessive of the kill than she truly was. There wasn't much give on her end to be trying to shake it loose of her aokkatti's grasp — perhaps the only thing that left it from escaping her jaws altogether was the fact that she had the skull at her end. As for Kroc, well, Echelon would see her far too late to make any course corrections to what happened to the carcass anyway.

It was a gruesome game of tug-o-war that they played, one that the trio truly seemed to enjoy. Tearing the creature apart was easy violence, blood spattering the ground as they continued. Despite Tonravik throwing the brakes on her pace and Echelon pulling against her, Kroc snapped her head to the side to, again, rip a leg free. They were muscular, sinewy morsels but snacks all the same. And when she was done with them? Well they'd litter the borders and warn off those who would intrude. 

Tail waving behind her, the tank circled the two before lunging in for a third limb, though whether she was successful or not remained to be seen. 

Tonravik moved to tug powerfully again, forelegs stiff, assisting Kroc in her own endeavor of ripping a limb free. She then threw her body forward to try and get more of the creature, to run with the thing. The jerking, sharp action took little more than two minutes as she pulled and pulled to sever spine from skull, and the skin gave at last to their violent tugging and tore, leaving Echelon with the head and Tonravik with the body that swung limply, all matters of its insides dangling at her chest. She tried to snarf it down, and gobbled what she could, before taking off with the thing excitedly, feeling its whip at her face as Kroc went again for another leg. The leader did what she could to make this not happen, but in the end she paused to drop the thing and let Kroc get another leg to eat. There was little left to it, in the end, and the trio afterward went on with their day.