Wolf RPG

With the pissant wolf dealt with, Tonravik lurked the perimeters of her land, even more on guard. There were plenty of insipid wolves in this place, it seemed; in time, they would surely pay the price of their senselessness. Be it by her fangs, or the fangs of another, it mattered not. Their fate was sealed for it. When she was sure the land was well-marked, Tonravik turned to find the nearest stream. She had cleaned her muzzle once, but was not so sure how to handle the torn ear which still bled. It had come to a trickle, but the tick in her ear needed something to help it clot. No medicinal genius, Tonravik humored literally rubbing some dirt in it.

By now, the bridge of her muzzle carried a scab. Although she could not see herself, she now looked more like her mother than ever; for the Issumatar carried the same mark after challenging a wolf in the Bay to leave her spot of shame. Nolfavrell had been his name. Siku had nothing against him; she had beaten him, and earned her place in the ranks of Shearwater again. That was still not to last. Siku had been meant for more.

Tonravik thought of her mother, the cold, stalwart woman. Her bloodied ear twitched. Siku had taken care to name the male, who had fought and understood what his loss meant. But this fight, for Tonravik, was simply another victory of hers. The name of the other was not relevant. It was just another scar.

The plains wolf had been dealt with. She was gone, but in her wake she'd left her mark. The earth was torn from their scuffle and with it, the beaded drops of blood trailing in either direction. One for the loser. The other for the victor. Kero sighed. He didn't know enough about Tonravik to understand her capacity for trouble, but when he'd asked her what she needed a Healer was among them. That meant she didn't have one. It'd led him to learning on the side.

He thought, he'd have a little more time before anything happened. He'd thought wrong. It'd been a foolish wish, but thankfully he knew enough to be of some assistance should the sullen queen suffer any trouble for it. That wound across her muzzle had appeared shallow. Her ear? Not so much.

He'd waited, allowing the grizzled alpha her space, before altering his path. She was easy enough to follow. The tiny droplets of blood created a clear path that was near impossible to ignore. And she was tracing the borders. He didn't understand why she'd let the rest of the world know she was injured, as slight and insignificant as it may be. 

His figure came across her own. He lingered, minding his distance before he lifted his voice through the heavy silence of thought. "You're leaving a wounded trail." He wasn't sure if she'd thought of that.

Tonravik was a wolf who had a penchant of rising to all challenges, and winning them. She knew her recent claim would be tested. One was bloodless, another was bloody. It mattered not... both she had won. She was weary from what blood she had lost... and the sound of another padding toward her caused her head to turn, and blood to drip down her face. Tonravik had not thought of the bloodied trail she had left, and looked beyond him. Had blood fallen onto the earth? She had thought her face collected the lot of it, the furs on her cheek half-wet, half-dry with it.

The wound on her ear was small, but it bled a lot despite that. It was clipped on the edge, not the tip, as though she was tagged for something. She recalled that he had told her he could heal, it was time to put him to the test. Her aggression had been taken out on the tawny plains girl, and so she appeared collected for the time.

"If she returns, the Spine will be sure to bring new meaning to wounded trail." Kill on sight. She had no time or patience for the plains girl any more. She remembered Iqniq beat her once. He had said as much. The next time, they would leave her body parts strewn across this place. They would tear her limb from bloody limb. The thought brought peace to Tonravik, and she looked tranquil. But she was watching him very, very closely; would he have an issue with this order? The blood continued to trickle.

Still angry. And why wouldn't she be? He noted her mood and took caution, approaching slowly as he neared her while still maintaining a bit of distance. He regarded her face, the way her grizzled appearance was further marred by the matting of fur and drying blood. In some areas, the sanguine rivers still dripped. That ear wasn't closing. Not yet.

It didn't take a genius to figure out why. She'd tried closing it with dirt when it hadn't clotted on its own. He mentally sighed. Healing 101 was enough to know dirt in a wound only created additional risks for infection. She'd won today's battle. She didn't need to lose herself to illness as a result when there were simple ways to clean the wound and avoid that fate.

"Even if she later yields?" he asked, already knowing the answer to that question. It didn't hurt to ask. If the order remained, he'd follow it. Wolves could choose their own fate in that way. It was none of his business otherwise. One did not challenge an alpha and get off so easily. 

Tonravik looked at him as he asked the question. If the wolf returned, it would certainly not be to yield. And so her words still stood, and she did nothing to take them back. That wolf was unwelcome here. For each time, she proved to be an annoyance. Did one let a mosquito keep sucking their blood, or did they kill it if given the chance? And Tonravik was not dealing with an apologetic insect. If the wolf returned, it meant she had a death wish; Tonravik was more than willing to oblige her. Tonravik nods. She did not care under what circumstance the wretch came under, belly-up or apologetic.

The wolf knew she was not welcome here. She had made it perfectly clear. So Iqniq could be sure that if the wretch came, she knew what she would meet. Death. Tonravik huffed as a bead of blood moved over a brow and past her eye. "It still bleeds," she grumbles irately. Did he have the ability to make it stop?

A nod. Death it was. The warning had already been sung. The decision was final. Politics. He hated them, and yet they were a crucial part to this life. He pressed his eyes closed and let the verdict settle. He'd used his fangs here more in just a handful of days than he had in all his time in the wilds. Felt that way, at least. Felt... He snorted, pressing the air forcefully through his nose as he cleared his mind of thought. This was the way of things. This is how it would be.

She grumbled. He turned his mind back to the present as he watched the blood roll down the edge of her ear and across her face. She complained. "You made it so," he informed her. She'd worsened it by rubbing that dirt into the wound and aggravating the area more.

He tipped his head towards the inner territories, suggesting they leave this place and travel somewhere more useful. The lake was on his mind. He was partial to it, but she knew the area better than he and Kero was open to suggestions. "It needs to be cleaned."

She had? Tonravik looks to him, tilting her head. How? Truth be told, she had thought the dirt would stop the bleeding. It certainly held what pieces she had managed to get it to touch together. She had been ginger, however, not wanting to tear the ear further. So she had missed plenty, and the blood still came. It went to show how much of a medic she was (i.e. not at all). She knew poisonous herbs from non, and that was the extent of it.

Hearing him, she began to move forward. She, too, thought of the lake. Its waters were the stillest and most calm, and would not cause any further ripping. Tonravik paused, wanting to be sure he was coming with her, having no intention of leaving him behind.

She tipped her head in question. He rose a brow back. How? He didn't reply, instead waiting for her to comply to his suggestion and head towards an area that was better suited for this sort of thing. She moved. He followed. It was becoming somewhat of a habit where he fell into her shadow and travelled along her side. It was simple this way. Easy. He could feel it dulling his mind.

They happened upon the lake. Together, they neared the edges of the water. Kero moved within the shallows, turning to face the bleeding wolf upon the shore. Wind rippled through the air, carrying the scent of her towards him and across the giant puddle at his back. He glanced skywards, noting the coverage of clouds and the unsung promise of a later rain. The air was comfortable. The waters were warm at their surface. The conditions were fair.

He looked to her. "You'll have to put that ear in the water." He didn't much care how she managed it so long as it happened.

Tonravik preferred the quiet. She was a very simple wolf, who in truth was easy to get on well with. Of course, you needed to be pack for her to give you any mind at all. Iqniq she enjoyed. He was, to her, a good wolf thus far. He had yet to prove her wrong, and only then would she be wary of him. Tonravik was not a wolf who gave others "benefit of the doubt" when it came to letting them into her fold. But the wolf before her was a strong, sturdy male who also knew of healing, even if a minimum amount. That was what she needed. She knew nothing.

He was first to head into the lake upon arrival. Water could sometimes make wounds bleed more if you let it sit in water. Tonravik had watched an animal bleed out while she waited to bring it down... that it died in the water had surprised her, but it had taught her something and also gave her a soggy meal. Tonravik could learn. So she moved into the waters, feeling the chill of the water beneath the surface. Quickly, she dunked her head. She had to do it twice, the first go not getting the ear wet. It stung, and it still bleed, the red diluting in the waters as it plopped in small dots downward.

She let out a loud sneeze, the water evacuating her nostrils, and then looked to him, her furs heavy and soaked. What now?

Blood

It stirred Ivitaruk's lips back to a silent snarl, and with swift paws, he made his way to the source. A scowl darkened his features as the crimson male strode forward, and uttering a low growl, his tail gave a lash in the air, his brown eyes falling not upon Tonravik, but the stranger who stood beside her in the lake. "What happened?" It was not a question that left room for debate to whether it would be answered or not -- 'Taruk's own form lifted with his rank, wondering if the other would attempt to press upon him a surge of dominance.

But the true reason he stood there, his paws upon the water, was for information. As an aspiring guardian and warrior of Tartok, it would not do for him to be absent in moments like these, and he felt a surge of frustration that Tonravik had been harmed whilst he remain ignorant.

She dunked her head. Sort of. The first time she didn't get that ear wet. The second time she was more successful. Curious as to whether or not it was enough, Kero stepped forward and took a look at the edges of the wound. Better, but he could still see gravel and mud around the edges. "You have to actually clean it," he re-iterated, lowering his head so one ear slipped into the water and lifting a paw to rub the soft flesh of his arm against it. He demonstrated and then straightened; making a small motion to suggest she try the same.

He waited, only to have his attention drift when another male wandered onto the scene. Well now. Tonravik did have more than three followers. Fancy that. He'd always imagined there were more, but they seemed scarce. Kero regarded him for a moment, lingering with neutral expression as this new one huffed at him. "Did you not hear the howl?" he asked. It'd spoken all he needed to know. "Our alpha was challenged and won. She will be fine. The female who started it? If she returns, she will be dead." That was the sum of it. The details were mostly irrelevant. 

Kero turned his gaze to the distance, pointing with his nose. "The scuffle marks are that way, if you need a scent." Certainly something remained of that. Blood had been shed by both. Blood, that was still dripping. He turned his gaze towards Toni and let his eyes cross over that wound. Thinking a bit, he contemplated what he'd learned, his options, and realized whatever he needed wasn't present. "Excuse me for a moment," he said, slipping out of the water. He stopped, back-tracked to look at Tonravik and narrowed his eyes. "Don't go anywhere." Something told him she might wander off if given the chance. "I'll be back." 

He slipped away to find something that might help with her ear, allowing both wolves a moment of privacy while he was on the hunt.

As Iqniq demonstrated what she ought to do, Tonravik first observed then repeated unto herself. She was swift in dipping her head beneath the water once more, then stepped backward so she could duck her head without submerging it again with more water. She let the wet foreleg brush lightly against the torn flesh, not so much as wincing as she took it like a woman. This time, dirt particles loosed themselves from the presently bloody lobe, and the wet wolf continued this up until the point she heard a wolf behind them. Tonravik snorted water from her nose, but Ivitaruk spoke before she could take a whiff, and turned to face him.

Tonravik listened to Iqniq speak, and decided she would have said much of what he had. She was sure Ivitaruk had heard, but wanted to hear things from she herself; still, that she need not speak an extra forty words certainly made her feel all the better. Tonravik moved to slip out of the waters, and as Iqniq departed stating he would be back, she thought to lead her other fiery companion to the scene of the crime itself. But, as it turned out, Iqniq was wise to her and returned to prompt her to stay here. She stared at him for a moment, before deciding she would not make his life any more difficult by deliberately ignoring his request.

So as he walked off, she looked to Ivitaruk. Iqniq had said the brunt of what she would have, if not more. Her ear was bleeding less, now, but now and again as blood gathered in one spot, it would fall into the lake to fade into nothing.

‘Taruk cast the golden male a rather blank look – had he heard the howl and known what was happening he would not have asked. Little patience was held for reputation, but it would seem the to-be healer eventually did offer the tale, and Ivitaruk gave a quick nod in understanding.

He would certainly be heading to the site of the scuffle, but given the offender was likely long gone now, the fiery male would reassure himself that the black ember had not come to much harm. Loping forward now, his cream and red form a stark contrast to her own swarthy silk, the aspiring warrior gave a rumble of displeasure at seeing her bleed, his brows furrowing.

“Shall I seek her out?” While concern might have flashed through his cinnamon gaze, he did not move forward to soothe her. Tonravik was a hearty beast of war – she would not be coddled for what she considered a few scrapes, of that he held no doubt.

Tonravik moves from out of the water as he comes toward her, instinctively shaking her furs. Her ears, too, flopped for a moment; it was fortunate no more damage was done, but it stung. His eyes looked her over, and he would see that the damage was minimal, merely laid upon sensitive areas that would carry the mark. He spoke, then, and Tonravik shook her head. It would be unnecessary to specifically look for her. Truly, there was no need. In any case, she had little doubt that the wretch would come to him, or any of the Spine, to test fate once more.

"She is nothing." Another wolf. But twice she had come, once met with kindness and the next, the tawny wolf herself had come for blood. Tonravik herself wouldn't say it was no reason. Tonravik herself came for blood upon arrival. Kivi had tested her claim as Cara had not, and Kivi had lost; her claim, now, was truly irrefutable. However, once was quite enough. If Kivi did come again, it would not be to keep peace. It meant the thing had a death wish. She repeats Iqniq: "If you see her here, kill her." That she did not mention anywhere else did not mean she had not thought of it. Ivitaruk would know how close was too close, and what he did to her if he came across her was his call. She trusted him enough to know he would do right by her, no matter the situation. 

He slipped away from the lake and dipped into a covering of deciduous trees. He'd scouted this area, making himself accustomed with the lands and was starting to get a better idea of which parts could offer him what he needed when he'd need it. Wandering through the undergrowth, his tipped his head upward, scenting the air as he sought out of leaf of certain shape. There it was. Leaning on the trunk, he reached into the lower bows and wrestled a few of them free. This would do.

Leaves in mouth, Kero chewed on them while he walked, grinding them down into something a little more useful than they were on their own. Mixed with his own saliva, the blend of leaf watered down into something of a salve as he wandered back upon the scene.

Tonravik moved out of the water, but other than that they were much in the same place as when he'd left them. He came up alongside their alpha and balanced upon three paws so he might lift one. Kero transferred the leafy mixture to his lifted arm. He'd never been more happy to rid himself of that plant taste. He particularly loathed the taste of green. 

"If you'd just turn your head a bit," he said to their swamp-monster of a queen, "I'll apply this to your ear and we'll be done." It was perhaps, more words than were needed, but there was something about this particular occupation that held a certain level of mystery. Explaining this particular form of witchcraftery often helped. 

One ear flickered in silent agreement to her words – he did not speak in turn, and within moments, the aspiring healer returned to their wounded warrior. Ivitaruk’s eyes grazed over the fiery wolf, pleased to know that Tonravik now held those in her ranks that looked out for her – as it should have been.

He did not stay to watch the process. Instead, he heeded the male’s words at seeking out their new opponent’s scent, which would be scattered with her fur and blood at the area which the interlude had occurred. Striding away, Ivitaruk’s form was quick, despite his size, as he made his way to where Kivi’s attempt had been botched.

Ivitaruk had gone, and Tonravik listened to the words of Iqniq has he began to speak of what he wanted from her. Tonravik offered him one brief, mistrustful look before it dissipated. It wasn't him she mistrusted, after all, simply the process... but she knew it was a necessary one to stop the bleeding. So the wolf swung her head to the side, allowing him the ability to do what he had said.

It would be done when he finished, and Tonravik was relieved for that. The blood falling was more obnoxious than anything, though if she let it be it could become far more than simply obnoxious. She had not lost enough blood to become delusional. The leader listened for his approach, and appeared open to the process, stiff though she was.

The rusty wolf slipped away, leaving Kero alone with his patient. She cast him a sidelong glance and Kero lifted a brow at her. One way or another this stuff was getting on her ear. "It's safe," he assured her, turning the flat of his arm towards her so she might sniff and see for herself what it was. "It will help with the clotting and ease with the healing process so it doesn't get infected." Wouldn't want something so close to her head to get messed up. Heavens only knew she needed to preserve what little bit of glamor she had left, however little it was. 

When she was satisfied, he began to apply the slave. He approached her slowly and steadily, not making any sudden movements as he transferred the poultice to his tongue and began to line the edge of her ear with the greenish goop. After a moment, he stepped back, glanced over his work and rid the remnants of the herb from his arm. He wash up later, but for now? "You're free to go. Let that sit, dry, and flake off naturally. Find me if it re-opens." All done here.

As he informed her of what it would do, she blinked at him. It was good to know what it was being done. It was then Iqniq began to apply it. And if the thing he concocted stung, the leader did not show it. Tonravik looked to him as best she could, but he was too far to her side for her to see any of what he was doing. She only felt it.

He stepped back, and she did not shift while he inspected in case there was more for him to do. But when he gave instruction, he noted they were done. Tonravik nods and moves to his side, attempting to nudge him roughly in thanks. Tonravik was appreciative of him, and looked to his face for a long moment as she leaned into him. The blood matted on her muzzle surely pressed against him, but that wound had at the least ceased in its bleeding. And then she moved to go, moving again toward the borders to resume her evening watch.