Wolf RPG

The great grass sea stretched before Lavakho's prone body as far as the eye could see.  The amber, windswept grass bowed and bent before the silent command of the wind, and the herds of bison roamed freely. To the untrained eye, this promised land was perfect, but to Lavakho, it was no Rhaesh Dahaan...  No, this was better.  A secure home.  With Rakharo's Khalas being the only Dotharan in the Wilds, the threat of other bands of Dotharan taking their land was minimal, and the Khalas could operate uninhibited.

However, this added security had made Lavakho lax.  The once great warrior was beginning to slip back due to an absence of practice.  Sure, hunts were one thing, but a fight between two wolves was an art.  Like a sword, a wolf can only be deadly if he is consistently sharpened.  Kivi had shown him this much when she had bested him out in the meadow. The loss had been a wake up call that Lavakho desperately needed.

But, deciding to do something and actually doing it were two different beasts in entirety.  And why do today what can be done tomorrow?  And so, Lavakho remained prone in grass, gnawing on the rib bone of a bison from a successful hunt, and waited for something interesting to happen.

Zhavvi was starting to get more interested in herbs and plants, although she had no teacher in it, she was learning herself about the effects of mushrooms and certain plants to test them on others. How caring she was for her Khalas, not really. A few wolves definitely had been sick, but not in a way that it was lethal. Only one slave had proven to be too weak after she had told the female to eat a plant with tiny white flowers. She didn't know the name but the slave had slowly died a horrible death with eye irritation, rashes, diarrhea and nausea. Not that Zhavvi really cared.

She had her stock hidden between the roots of a tree, the plants that she knew that would be fatal to her fellow canines. She just returned when she saw her uncle being lazy. She creeped closer and then jumped on top of him. She wanted to try and startle him. Zhavvi didn't held her stance long and rolled off him, showing a bit of her playful side she sometimes still had. "Hey Uncle," she greeted. "I see you are growing fat," she teased and grabbed his ear.

Lavakho's quiet time was inturrupted by Zhavvi pouncing on his back in a fruitful attempt to startle the unsuspecting warrior.  Half-lidden eyes shot open in surprise as he spit the bone out of his mouth and into the dirt.  He turned to the girl with a growl beginning to rumble in the bottom of his throat, however, after seeing who his would be assailant, he quelled his hostility and grinned. Of all the wolves who resided in the Hoshor Plains, Zhavvi was the most welcome to interrupt relaxy-time.

She had a playful spirit about her.  That was always something Lavakho could get behind wink wink.  Few wolves ever saw a playful side to the generally stoic warrior, however, both Zhavvi and Rakharo got the real Vakho and not the tough shell that he wore like armor.  With his niece, Lavakho was a child once again.

"I'm not fat," he corrected while she played with his ear. "I'm just bulking... I've got a figure to maintain Zhav."  He pulled away and rolled, exposing his underbelly. "See, not fat... just—" he paused while he tried to find the right word, "—intimidating."

Zhavvi was still standing next to him, clearly amused with this whole ordeal. When the male turned over his belly for her to see Zhavvi was even more pleased because it almost looked if her uncle was submissive to her. Zhavvi didn't mind that, and her uncle was in one way or the other. She had her feminine charms after all. She knew her way to soften her uncle or should she say the opposite... Zhavvi smirked at her own thought process. She placed her paw against her uncle's shoulder and pushed him back on his side. "Very intimidating," she spoke not really impressed.

Her uncle could be such a puppy. Zhavvi liked that though. Eventually the princess sat down and glanced over the older male. "I want to fight," she then spoke, hopefully her uncle had digested part of his meal because she was warned about too much activity after a meal. She did care for her uncle in a way. "I want to fight you! Can I? I need to expand my knowledge on becoming a warrior princess! A lethal one."

A fight?.  But, she was so small. So feminine.  Lavakho would break her, and that just would not do.  If Zhavvi were to get hurt, especially at Lavakho's paws, Rakharo would come down hard on him like a hammer.  If any harm came to he precious daughter, he would more than likely kill him... However, if he only knew the half of it, he would have killed him already.  "Do you really think that's a good idea Zhav? Asked Lavakho.  On one hand, he didn't want any harm to come to the wolf he felt so fondly for, but on the other, he knew he needed to practice and so did she if she ever wanted to be a warrior like him.  And who better to teach than one of the most feared warriors of Rhaesh Dahaan?

Lavakho rolled over and rose to his feet to engage Zhavvi in a play bow.  "Tell you what, I'll go easy on you," he said with a slight grin. "But if I win, we do the nasty... And if I lose, which I won't, we'll still do the same thing, but I might let you finish first."

Zhavvi watched her uncle's mind rattle at her suggestion. Like it was so uncommon that she would want to fight... Zhavvi shook her head and jumped her uncle in a rather playful matter. She wanted to show him how good she could fight! Kivi was not being careful with her after all and she survived. Even though she was a bit broken and bruised after a day of training. "Of course I do! I want to be a warrior princess. I already started to learn about poison and now about fighting," she pointed out. Zhavvi was becoming more dangerous each day.

Zhavvi snarled at her lovable uncle. "No. If you do I will make sure that you will limp for at least a month if you don't fight me seriously. I am serious about my fighting after all," she let out with some authority. "Are you afraid I will beat you?," She then spoke teasingly and bit the side of his neck in teasing. It was more a nip than a harsh bite, though the nip was a sharp one. "I thought a Khal always lets their Khaleesi go first," she pointed out, suggesting that she saw him as a Khal. Oh what a great plan she had.

She nipped at Lavakho's neck, causing him to jerk his head backwards like the crack of a whip.  He grinned at his spunky niece while he got himself into fighting position. "I'm still going easy on you," he mused.  Unbeknownst to him, she had been training with Kivi, the only wolf yet to have bested him.  In Lavakho's mind, she was still that protected little girl that had no idea what she was doing.  

Zhavvi spoke just as Lavakho was about to strike, but her words made him freeze in confusion.  Khal.  But, Rakharo was Khal. What was she thinking?  As much as he would have loved to be the Khal to her Khaleesi, to have her as his own, the disrespect she showed to her father and leader took Lavakho off guard.  His half-lidden eyes narrowed as he backpedaled from the spot.  "Zhav, you shouldn't speak like that.  I am no Khal."

Zhavvi smiled, knowing that she would be able to get in his head one way or the other. The moment her uncle was so shocked she instantly moved forward with the impressive speed she had. Her teeth baring and her jaws ready to bite down his neck, hoping that she had created a distraction and could show her with his bite that she was very serious about her fighting. "No, now you are not behaving like one, Uncle," she almost purred.

The slender girl then smirked jumping away from her uncle and readying herself a fighting position, the exact same Kivi had, since well, she was her trainer. Zhavvi grinned mischievously. "C'mon uncle...," she teased, challenging him.