Wolf RPG

With the rabbit properly disposed of, and no ounce of it or the contents within ingested, Tonravik stalked to the center of the territory. It was time to change things, and a great many of them. The Spine had to prepare; Kivi's act of stupidity may not be her last, and she would not be unprepared for it. She stalks toward the center of the land and howls for the pack, lurking in an open meadow. Kivi was a wolf who would do anything to get what she desired, and for one reason or another, Kivi had set her sights upon she and hers. For that, she would die.

And for that, her wolves needed to prepare.

Tonravik would not lead a pack of wolves who idled and did nothing, and that was known. The Spine had flourished beneath her, and now, it was time for it to change and grow even stronger. If a wolf wanted their place to be here, they needed to be Warriors, now; Kivi had tested them twice, and twice she had failed. But Tonravik would make damn sure that not a wolf here was a weak link; the strong survived, the strong thrived. She would have to teach them much, but she was ready to do so. If there was a storm coming, they would be ready for it; the Spine would be a wave that could not be broken, and this meeting, she would make that known.

Kodiak had lingered near the borders after the confrontation, pacing back and forth, all but wearing a frustrated trench into the ground. He struggled to let go of his anger this time, and chewed at his lip and gritted his teeth. If Tonravik had not howled, summoning her wolves to her, the brown bear would have continued for an indeterminate amount of time. He may have even left and tracked her down. It was not good enough that she may be standing at death's door, he wanted to shove her through it. But alas, he was being summoned, and so with a final burning glare cast in the direction the female had fled, he turned and headed to Tonravik.

He traveled briskly, and approached her with a lowered head and ears fanned backward. He touched this top of his muzzle to his leader's chin before he standing off to the side, waiting for the rest of the troops.

Kroc continued to walk, continued to power on until Tonravik stopped. Today's battle made it a very real possibility that there was more trouble ahead, something that Tartok wolves were well associated with. They were fighters, warriors, survivors. The bitch had made a mistake by trying to poison their own and Kroc plotted to kill her if she ever even caught scent of her again, here at the Spine or elsewhere. 

The pale, blood covered wolf vaguely realized that her alpha had halted, her ears pitching forward to listen to the howl. Yes. A meeting. She would seat herself nearby, as was allowed by her rank but first, she approached the dark leader with pride in her step, ignoring any others around them. At her feet, she placed the severed tail, Kroc's trophy given to her alpha as a gift and a promise. A gift and promise of blood and death. Any who came against them in the defense of this dumb ass would perish and Kroc would see that oath through personally. 

Her gold eyes proud, she moved off again, finally sitting and only offering a soft rumble as the copper male approached her. There would be no heavy healing until after this gathering and she would snip those bloodied teeth at him if he tried anything more than preliminary care.

Kero trailed after Kroc. Hell, her puddles of blood were like fucking stepping stones left in her wake. Grumbling, he squashed each one with a paw before he decided he had better uses for his time. He stole away, drifting into the woods to collect a few things that he'd need to tide things over until Kroc would really let him at those flesh wounds. Bitch.

With Ton's howl of a summons in the air, Kero made quick work in the woods. He grabbed a temporary supply and turned back, drifting through towards the plain where Tonravik had summoned them. Kroc busied herself, dropping that tail off by the alpha's feet before she moved off to the side. The white wolf's eyes drifted towards him. She appeared slightly more amicable than before, but he wasn't taking any chances. 

He picked up speed. His walk slipped into a jog which turned into a run and finally a full on charge as he barreled into the tank of a wolf. Paw on her face, he fought off those gnashing fangs as he spat silk onto her side and examined that bloody shoulder. He drew his tongue over it, clearing away the crust of blood as he looked over the damage and packed that spiderweb into it. There. Temporary gauze. He hoped there was a spider in it. Bonus points if the thing laid eggs inside of her.

His earlier concerns about what use he could be of a pack that was fairly well established had been eradicated with this new threat. Ivitaruk held little patience for the matter – somehow, the tawny woman was still living to threaten their pack one day at a time.. and even he had his chance with her.

Prowling forward, the red wolf came to the summon of his regal, and as he made it upon the scene, a rumble of approval was given to the ivory she-devil with a severed tail at display to their leader. With affection and submission, the Tartok wolf brushed his shoulder in comradery and silent greeting to Tonravik, bumping his nose to her chin as he passed.


His brown eyes fell upon the others gathered, recognizing them only from scent and with few shared scents alone – it was only Tonravik though who he was truly familiar with.

Loreley flinched at the sound of Tonravik's call. Things seem to be getting rather serious around here lately. Though Loreley was no one who courted violence she had made a silent promise to her leader that she would become strong and worthy being a member of her pack. 'Not that I dare say it aloud yet.'   She reminded herself still to intimidated to speak out.

Though troubled Loreley headed towards the call. taking a deep breath she puffed out her chest, head held high. She would be brave and do her best.

When Salamander arrived, she was late to the party. Nothing appeared to have occurred yet - and as she slipped around the gathering, she glanced from stranger to stranger. The only wolf she recognized was Tonravik, but that was mainly because they had hunted together; the others were strangers, and she made no move to ingratiate herself to them. Upon finding a spot to wedge herself - rather close to her leader, actually - she set herself down and waited.

All but one came to the call, and Tonravik felt disappointed in the present absence of @Sinaaq. But she did not delay. With her came Kodiak, Iqniq, and Kroc. As Syn came and babbled, Tonravik let loose a snarl. Her tolerance for the Omega was exceptionally thin. Say another word, the sound warned, we will all kill you. Her eyes fell to Salamander who came to sit nearby, and her ear flicked.

"If you wish to remain in these ranks," Tonravik began, "You must train to become a Warrior, and a Guardian. There are no exceptions." She paused only to gather her thoughts, and when she did, she started once more. "A wolf came today with a rabbit that she placed poisons within. All will learn of toxic herbs. I will teach you." She knew of poisons, to be sure, but not their remedies. Still. One needed to know the herbs in which to avoid at the least by their look, smell, and name. The Tartok culture was well-versed in these matters, given how many a time a wolf would come and try to outwit them. It perhaps could be done, but not by poison. One had succeeded to a wolf not so proficient in their knowledge... but never again.

They would not be bested by cowards. That was not the Tartok way.

As she looked among the number before her, she was aware that these wolves were not Tartok. Not yet. But they had faced adversity, and had risen above it. They could be. The idea itself was inspiring.

For the moment she was silent, her eyes observing each of their faces. "Any that dispute this, leave." This would not be like pulling teeth. Her wolves would fall in line and become strong, one. A formidable unit that would take out the enemy when necessary. There could be no naysayers in this. Their acceptance of this was the only acceptable answer.

He tackled her. During such ridiculousness, other wolves arrived, though that didn't mean he was any less susceptible to catching her teeth if he got to be too much. She was tolerant to a point; the important thing right now was the meeting that Tonravik had summoned them all to.

While Kerosene was the only one allowed near her at the moment, he was also the only one that even neared her in rank. Any other that came closer was given a snarl and a malevolent flash of bloodied teeth. She had earned her place closest to Tonravik and like hell she'd let someone else that near without the work that had gone into it. Especially if they were late. It truly wasn't anything personal, just the natural selection of rank and role. 

With the bleeding slowing, Kroc was able to focus on Tonravik and the words she spoke. The idea of every wolf being both a fighter and a protector was one that the pale, bloodied tank agreed with and wholeheartedly supported. Toxins, she didn't know anything of, but for her Alpha, she would learn without fail or argument. 

Her eyes narrowed as searched the pack, flickering over the others to see who, if any, would object. 

With his attention on Kroc's shoulder, he made quick work of it. Kero looked her over, deemed it suitable for now, and would tend to the rest of it at a later date. No mistake, this gathering was not intended to become a hospital ward, but he would take what time they had between assembling and starting to slip in a few necessary and preventative measures. She checked out. He withdrew and turned to sit somewhere within the masses.

Ears and eyes turned, watching as wolves crawled out of the woodwork and presented themselves. There were a number in which he did not know, nor recognized by sight. Scents? Here and there, yes, but now they showed themselves in presence and it pleased him to know there were more within the spine than the few he saw so regularly.

One of them seemed bat-shit crazy. She rambled. Kero merely looked at her, keeping an eye open her form as her one-tracked mind went on and on.

Just like that, the meeting started. His focus shifted, falling upon their swamp-monster of a leader as she spoke on her expectations. They would be both warriors and wardens. Two sides of the same coin. They would master each. He could do that for the best offense was often a good defense. That, and they would further their defense by learning of things that might harm them. Made sense. It was also the reverse side of the efforts he made in learning what it meant to heal those within this pack. They complimented each other well.

Any who refused would be run out. He had no issue with this. His eyes drifted among them, looking to see if any could not live under these demands.

They gathered – Ivitaruk would cats glances to his pack mates, but remain the silent force he always was. His gaze drifted from each, though would linger upon Tonravik, the fondness in his brown eyes surpassing the stoical mask that normally cast upon his façade.

It would seem enough had gathered that she felt confident to move forward with their meeting. Attentive, the fiery wolf listened to her demand and offered a rumbling growl of approval – his own consent to the matter. It was fitting.. and with the training, the pack would be the driving force and kingdom to those that dared try to tamper with them. Ivitaruk held only rudimentary skill in the art of herbs and plants, and he knew the training would be worthwhile.

His own gaze swept over the others, awaiting to see if they would foolishly turn down the opportunity and leave the safety that was Ouroboros Spine.

The gathering was quiet, and Tonravik spoke. She said nothing that Salamander took offense to - in fact, she was quite entertained by the demands of the Alpha. Her life was built upon the blood shed by others, and so if Tonravik required warriors, she would have them. When she spoke of toxins and herbs and things, though, Salamander balked for a moment. What use did a true warrior have for such things? She felt herself hardening to the idea, but remained silent. She would obey, for now. And without a word spoken, Salamander began observing the reactions of the others - casually glancing between the unfamiliar faces, and wondering if anyone would have the balls to speak against Tonravik. It was highly doubtful.

Tonravik did not care whether or not others used the toxic things she taught them, so long as they knew them to not ingest them themselves. That was why they had been taught such things. They would be bested by none, and the weaker wolves would be given no advantage with their poisons. Also, Tartok truly held more than large, burly wolves; there were wolves who did in fact specialize in embedding dead creatures with poison for coyotes to consume. Bears might ingest some, but they had keener noses than wolves or any other canine. Only the truly famished one would take their chances.

None complained, though two seemed not to comprehend. Had they not been listening? Tonravik looked to the group before her and nodded. "Training begins tomorrow. I will call for you." She paused. "Another thing. If and when there is an intruder, howl to the pack to come. I do not care how strong you think you are. This is our home. We will all protect it. Together." Finished, Tonravik nodded.

She looks to the Omega, and to Loreley. "Come with me." And with that, the alpha female moves forward, ears flicking dismissively to the rest of the group.

They wasted no time. With no disagreements or protests, the law here was written and finalized. They would all train to be warriors and wardens with time. Likewise, they would all receive basic training on poisons and other such things so nothing like that temptation of a rabbit within their borders would happen again. There were reasons why Kerosene preferred fresh meat. Less risk of tampering. Less risk of something going afoul. Still, when the opportunity presented itself to learn, he was first in line to take advantage of it. He'd be waiting for that time.

Until then, it seemed he had a wolf to take care of. He rose, lifting himself from where he sat as he strode towards the white wolf he'd tended earlier. "You," he stated, his voice level and clear. "Let me actually tend that wound." He tipped his head aside, indicating it would be better for them to remove themselves from the area and get a little privacy while he actually looked her over.

The meeting concluded just in time, for Kroc's normally sharp eyes were losing focus quickly. Blood loss was certainly not her favorite thing but she was glad to have held out this long. Tonravik dismissed them and the others dispersed, leaving the tank and the healer-nut to wrap up. 

But Kroc did not let him close just yet, instead standing to go find water and let him do his job. Finally. 

Kroc exits w/ @Kerosene

Tonravik ended the meeting with basic instructions. With only a soft growl in response of agreement, the crimson male watched the Alpha lead two others away. One ear would flicker in indifference to the matter, and as his pack mates began to disassemble, the mountain wolf pulled away from them as well, his own light paws moving him to the borders so that he may continue a sweep – there would be no true rest until this other pack had been dealt with accordingly.. and until they felt their own members had prepared fully for what could be a war.