Wolf RPG

Tonravik moved toward the nellayok object in the near-distance. She had traveled far, and to be home.. she scarcely wanted to leave it. She had once before, and would not wander so far again. Her muzzle suffered some new wounds, but all superficial. They would be healed, and that battle was long forgotten. It was midday, and Tonravik lay curled beneath the rough bark of the landmark that stretched a long while through the deciduous area. Tonravik did not hunger at all, having been exceptionally well fed the past couple of days.

Now, she only desired to sleep it off. The leader had patrolled, and all was well. The woman would take her well-deserved rest, and closed her eyes, beginning to doze.

Arverk lifted a hind leg and sprayed his scent upon the scent markers, keen blue gaze scanning his surroundings sharply and warily. His guard was up and he was alert, every movement and sound he heard and he investigated. So far, there had been no potential trespassers or intruders on his watch, which was good, it meant that some of the wolves were finally having some sense to stay away from the Spine. It was also good that none of the damned Plains wolves came near them yet, but only time would tell if they were staying away for good.

His patrol was over so the sleek whale made his way casually back into his pack lands, his lithe build silently making his way towards the forests, there, he would mark for sometime and perhaps catch something to fill the caches too. There was always work to be done in the Spine, some chose to do it and contribute while others pretended to have finished all work and lazed around. Hopefully the Spine had more of those who were hardworking than those who were slackers.

Arverk reared up on hind legs as he scratched the bark with sharp claws, marking the tree. The wind shifted directions and brought with him a comfortable breeze as well as the familiar scent of his leader.

Tonravik slept. While she was eager to immerse herself into her pack again, she needed some rest; though she was well trained, her muscles ached from the travel. It was a good ache, but one she would not actively seek. Knowing the Plains and knowing what they could be up against was enough for Tonravik to feel at ease again. As she began to fall into a light sleep, she heard the sound of nails against bark; she was reminded of Ivitaruk, and rose halfway up, ear twitching to assess. But it was not him she smelled near.

The woman looked to the forest, waiting for the figure of the wolf to come into her line of sight. She hoisted herself up to a sit, and then stood, moving to meet the other halfway. The same breeze that hit Arverk ruffled her nape, but it did not lend her his scent.

Arverk fell back upon four paws as soon as he finished marking the tree, ears swiveling to catch the sound of movement not far away. Black leathery nostrils flared once more, inhaling the thick scent of Tonravik. Ah. She was back from her trip to the Plains. Somehow, his brain had disregarded this valuable piece of information and deleted it. He must have been dozing or lost in his thoughts when that happened. Nevermind. That didn't matter, what did was that she was back.

Smoky black paws thrummed gently upon the ground as he made his way silently through the forest, for a moment, he looked as if he was only a shadow of a tree when he gracefully padded over the leaf strewn floor.

Bright blue eyes fell upon the dark and familiar bear-like form of Tonravik as she stood in front of him. He blinked and cocked his head, not really expecting her to actively greet him as she should be tired from her long journey. Nevertheless, his tail flicked amiably behind him as a gesture that he was glad she was back.

The dark wolf moved toward Arverk. She wondered at his progress in his training since she had left; she was eager to see it. And there he was, emerging from the woodwork, and the two approached one another as wolves often would. Tonravik sniffed at him, her own tail waving in turn. While she was tired from her journey, there was nothing quite like reuniting with her pack mates for the leader, who attempted to poke and prod with her snout to check for any new updates or scent changes.

Her dark lobes perked atop her head as she circled to step beside him, bowing some into an inviting play-bow. The spirits of the leader were high, and her tiredness could wait. A spar was as good a thing to rouse her as any, and as she rose from that movement, she feinted toward him with a loud snarl.

Arverk allowed Tonravik to poke and prod at him, his tail still waving behind him as he sought to greet her with a lick under her chin. Words were not needed for situations like this, in fact, words were usually not needed at all because actions spoke as well. A flick of a tail, a twitch of ears, a low snarl, a stiff posture, all those spoke as loud as words and probably even better. They were wild animals, and wild animals spoke with actions not words. Most of the time, at least.

The swarthy whale's ears pricked as she bowed an inviting play-bow. Ah, so she still had the energy for a spar huh? Well, he had been itching for a nice fight anyways, and Tonravik was a good spar partner. He sidestepped quickly as the dark bear of a female feinted towards him and lunged forward, aiming to pull her paw from beneath her with a playful snarl of his own.

As he sidestepped, Tonravik was able to see it in having feinting and thus able to sidestep herself as he made a true lunge forward. Tonravik watched a foreleg lash out to make a grab for her own, leaving the entirety of it vulnerable to her. She made a nip for it but did not go to grab, only wanting him to be aware.

His movement continued to carry toward her and she retaliated by lowering herself and reacting in turn. Her own body-weight, heavier now, was different and surely she would make her own miscalculations. She sought to cause her own chest to collide with his own, to knock the wind out of him. Her ears were flat against her skull, and her jowls parted to protect her throat as she extended forward. His paw was able to thwap against her in her own attack, a cutting cuff to her side; his blunt claws scratched but broke no skin as they tugged and she surged to press him backward.

Tonravik made to nip at his paw, but did not grab it. Arverk knew that she did that so he would be aware of it and not make the same mistake next time. Damn it. He was being so stupidly careless once more, he would have to spar frequently then, seeing as everytime he stopped training for sometime, his skills quickly grew rusty. Sometimes he missed being an assassin, as the solitary missions allowed him free time as well as kept his skills from rusting. But then compared to the benefits of being a Spine member....being an assassin wasn't really worth it.

Tonravik moved forward, lowering herself as she made to charge forward, causing their chests to collide but he was quick and cuffed her side, his blunt claws scratched but did not break through her skin. She surged forward, aiming to press him back. Arverk obliged and backpedaled a few steps, releasing his hold, just to charge forward once more with flattened ears and dipped snout. He aimed to slip behind her and push her off balance.

As he lunged toward her, she had not anticipated him to aim his weight at her hinds. She moved a step too late and felt one hind leg slip under her, snorting as she regained her balance. She swung her hips around so they were facing the same direction, and sprung, attempting to promptly mount him to dominate him this way.

Her lobes were still melted upon her head, but perked upward as she listened for reaction an instant before falling back defensively.