Xander roamed around, searching for a place to settle down. He had wandered into the Teekons a few days ago, but was making sure he drawed no attention to himself. Today the dark male was feeling up for a bit of adventure, and set off to explore these wilds. He had never been given the chance to see new lands when he was a slave, and he finally understood what he had been missing out on.
It wasn't long until he came upon recently marked boarders, obviously stating to keep out. However the male was hungry, and it was clear he wasn't in the best condition. Xander slipped past the boarders hopefully not noticed, and searched for a cache. Not knowing the territory he was in, the dark male struggled to find food. Feeling defeated, he made his way to the boarder again, when he caught the scent of another wolf nearby. Xander made a bolt for the boarders, hoping he could escape whatever wolf he had almost came across.
Intruder.
She smelled him. Heard him. And she made no move to stay silent as she rushed his dark form, a vicious snarl preceding her as she barreled towards him. Her shoulder aimed for his chest, teeth for his throat. This bastard would not steal from their pack, hungry or not.
Teeth snapped powerfully, searching for his flesh and blood. If she caught him, she would not hold back. The loner's life was in the balance. Would he stand and fight? Or would he run? Judging on the way he made to steal, she was betting on the latter. Fine. She would chase him until his heart gave out.
She had happened upon him just a moment too late — he had been rifling through a cache long left exposed and untended by the former keepers of the Spine. He was bolting long before she had come barrelling out of the undergrowth after him, a vicious snarl punctuating the ambient din of the world around him. He was a dark fellow, almost as inky and as a dark as she was herself, if not for the fact that the dirt and grime of travel clung to him. And the closer she got to him, the more she noticed the scars that littered his frame... and the thought of adding to them had entered her mind as she moved to sink her teeth into the first thing she could get a hold of.
This wayfarer would regret his mistake, if he survived.
Groundeating strides took her in the direction of her two subordinates. A low, cold howl sounded when she saw her subordinates moving to flank him as they would their prey, which, in seconds, he had become. Soon, whatever pack mates were in the vicinity would prevent his escape. Trespassers were to be dealt with, the crime punishable by death. And as her cry ended, Tonravik, too, began to move.
She wasted no time.
Groundeating strides carried her downward, closer and closer to the scarred wolf. To her left, Kroc. To her right, Echelon. And coming dead center was she, moving silently, tail rigid behind her in her powerful gait. They would overtake him. He would have no time to even so much as regret his actions before the inevitable occurred.
Unfortunately for Xander he had been mistaken. It was not one wolf but three, and all came at him snarling and ready to rip into him. Two were dark females and the other a pale female, all were bigger than Xander due to his lack of muscle. The male knew if he made one mistake when running, he might not leave this place alive. The male kept running, and eventually he crossed the boarders, but he didn't stop there. Xander kept going, and he wouldn't stop until he fainted. As he made his way father and father away from the Spime, Xander wanted to look back and see if the wolves had kept chasing him. However stopping for just a brief moment could be the end for him, and so he kept running, never looking back.
Just as the male ran over the borders, Kroc followed, taking note of her fellow pack mates as they descended upon him. Just like the coward she thought him to be, he ran and ran and she sped faster to try and catch him. Teeth snapped at his flank, his leg, tail, anything she could reach. This male would not leave their lands with no wounds to warn off others from doing what he had, with no scar to sear this moment into his memory. He would not leave with his life.
Launching at him, the bearish creature sought to bring him down and pin him, her weight more than enough to keep him there.
So caught up in her pursuit of the intruder, Echelon was slow to notice that she was joined. But once she did, she knew that the odds were fully stacked in their favor. She snapped after empty air, surprised that he was able to stay just a step out of their grasp. This prompted her to surge ahead again, willing to chase him until he tired from the exertion and collapsed. But if he drew closer to her again, she had no qualms about snapping after him, even going as far to think that even if she could sink her teeth into his bony rear it would have been worth it.
Tonravik had every intent to kill him. Had ever intent to leave a loud and clear message that one did not escape these situations without something to show for it. As she arrived, the wolf saw them and turned immediately. If he fell, he would fall to death; there would certainly be blood from this encounter. None escaped without something to show for it. Tonravik lurched forward as she approached his rear, moving to snap hellishly at his hindquarters, attempting to rip skin from flesh to make him bleed.
Whether she hit her mark or not it mattered not, the attack caused her to slow. By now they were well over the borders and Tonravik let out a loud, booming bark to summon Kroc and Echelon to her. They need not chase him any more, he would never return near this place again. But her claim to the Spine was too new, too fresh, to walk away from it for too long a time. He would die for his error, but today was not that day. She sneered at his submissive, retreating figure.
The male finally stopped to catch his breath, and noticed the wolves stopped chasing him. Out of nowhere a sharp pain shot through his leg as he notice that practically a chunk of him was missing. It was a deep wound on his rear, and Xander let out a slight wimper. The wolves here were just like the ones back home, although he couldn't blame them since he did trespass in their lands. He didn't know where he was going, but the dark male started walking. He would keep walking, and hopefully find someone who could help him. Every second that pasted the pain seemed to get worse and worse. Blood stained his dark fur, but the male kept moving along. One thing was for sure. He would not make the same mistake he did today, ever again.
Snarling, Kroc snapped her teeth again, even though he was out of reach by now. Tonravik's call to them slowed her pace, though she was sorely tempted to pursue him, to tear him limb from limb. 'Motherfucker,' Her snarl intensified, ripping out of her throat but she turned, coming back to the Alpha's side, her irritable mood blatantly present now. Gold eyes watched him run towards the horizon, narrowed in her anger. If he ever came back here, even if she crossed paths with him again, he would die. This, she would not forget. None of them would, she was positive.
Tonravik's summons did not immediately cause Echelon stop to in her pursuit. She went just a few more yards out before swinging back around, snorting hot air from her nose as she was corralled back towards her issumator. She cast a gaze back as she retreated, spying out the thin waif's form bobbing through the terrain on the way up and further out. She would try to track him later and that was something that she suspected she would not be alone in — the thought that if he had tried it once he would try it again another time.
But as she returned to Tonravik, any trace of the hostility that had been present was gone now. Her eyes lingered over Kroc momentarily as she brought them round to her aokkatti, wondering why she had called them off. The fear of her claim becoming invalid did not come to her, because she believed the other wolves of the Spine were beginning to come to the idea of holding up their own territory.
All the same, she realized that it needed addressing and wondered if that was why they had been pulled back from their chase.
The wolf ran and ran, well past the borders, well out of her sight range. Echelon and Kroc were no doubt aggravated by this, as aggravated as she. Tonravik felt the need to hunt, and he had been the perfect prey. He would have fallen, died. But Tonravik could not waste her time on those that were already dead. There was still a more important matter, and the wolf had gone with his tail tucked beneath his stomach. He would not return.
She was more concerned about a wolf that could. They were together again, and Tonravik chuffed. They had done well. Between her teeth was a thick chunk of him, and she dropped it to the earth. She needed nothing to remember him by. Tonravik would not soon forget his face, or his actions; now that she had tasted his blood, she would be out for more of it in time. A howl sounded again. He had been dealt with. She sang of it, knowing the voices of the Spine would come to join her own to intimidate the wolves lurking outside.
Her voice rose with her superior's, a warning to those around them that should they make the same mistake as the wolf who fled, they would forfeit their lives. Surely, their deadly song chased him as well, as Kroc would herself in due time. There were the borders to protect, to ensure that this would not happen again. If it did, the next wolf would not know the relief of escape. They would exact their revenge on any who disrespected them and theirs. The wolves of the Spine did not forgive. They did not forget, either.
As Tonravik's rallying voice reached up towards whatever heavens there were, Echelon joined her and Kroc both with the higher octaves of her own. She sounded more like a banshee than anything but it was purposeful in its intent; it was meant to be catching to the ear. Only then did she hope that they would hear the others answer them back in time, a note that they were beginning to do their own parts to keep themselves and all of them safe. It was clear that even in light of someone taking over and remarking the territory that there were those that simply did not care. And as for the one who had gotten away, well, needless to say that Echelon would remember him just as well. He would be found again and the lesson they had so needlessly escaped from would be taught once more.