OOc:Personal note: A week or so after Nuata and Njal talk. And a few days more since Nuata and @Haunter met.

Sport was hard to come by in the mountains. Too few game dared scale the rocky faces in fear of faltering in step and plummeting. It was an apprehension any sensible creature had especially towards the end of winter, when the surfaces were slick and the ice was melting away upon the glancing warmth of spring. But there were some choice fodder that braved the dangers none the less, and it was these brave souls that she longed for to make a game possible.

It was not wholly a game, but a task to undertake. As part of her duty to the Vale, it was her turn to hunt and bring back the spoils of her success that others may feast. Her own belly was full, making the task somewhat manageable without the distraction of her own hunger, but there would always the lust for flesh meat not completely stifled. She would simply have to do her best not to let it distract her.

A brave soul indeed had taken step over the mountain ridge, no doubt bounding along on dexterous toes hoping that his tracks would not be easy to follow. But the hunter knew the grounds like her own, the different scents of the mountain. The musk of a lone ram was not difficult to follow. Perhaps a young soul, considering a seasoned elder would have known better. Though young ones were sneaky, always appearing suddenly then dancing away again. It was the ideal sport and prize for a hunter. One she had every intention of claiming as her own, and as she crept within the deeper shadows of the mountain’s ledge, she felt her anticipating growing.

She was to be mindful of her steps, careful of the weight of her presses to ensure no step too hard would enlighten the prey to her stalking it. As she knew as well as she her hunting methods, silence was key when it came to the springy bounds of the rams. They had an advantage that a wolf did not; smaller feet to allow them ease to scale the mountain walls. Not to mention a balance that still boggled the mind of the mountaineer. Recalling this, she adjusting her steps to be slow… careful… light as the fallen sno-

Then a flash of pale white leapt down from a ledge overhead. Bone horns flailing as its head reared back in defiance of its graceless tumble. The ram had slipped, but it was not completely ‘falling’ more so scrambling on the mountain; an advantage if ever there was one.

Xi’nuata had but a moment to react now to two things at once. The soft calling of the presence nearest to her and the youth making its haphazard way down the mountain. “Left!” she barked, less as an order and more a greeting as she immediately sprang along the right of the ram hoping to catch it from the right as it skid the rock to a low platform below.

His compliance was without question much to her pleasure, in only that less contest meant for an easier pursuit of their prey. To the advantage of the hunt, his careless descent made for an easier time in heading off the startled ram and at the same time altered tis direction toward her. She had a brief flash of a similar instance in the Vale; the chase that led to the shaky relationship between the paradise dwellers and the Creek. Same as before, her prey was beneath her as she descended from the rocks in more precise bounds. The animal’s sudden veer made for the opportune moment to leap, but no time to prepare only the frenzied grasp for its frightened flesh.

With teeth unfurled, she pushed from the rocks, snapping down when in range to take the back of the animal’s throat. The momentum pushed both the wolf and animal into the rocky ledge, but with the quarry crushed beneath her, flailing and kicking as it attempted to throw her off….

She clung to the back of the throat in earnest, even rolled a bit to the side to draw the struggling beast to its side. The end could come soon either by suffocation of teeth to the throat, though the latter was swifter and more eminent than the former. Though the hunt had been hers in the beginning, she did not mind the assistance, or simply did not care given the adrenaline charge through her veins. Her mind was set on the kill falling still, with came without order as the black wolf descended.

Xi’nuata felt the ram jerk as his throat was taken between hungry jaws. His flailing more erratic though rapidly lessening in intensity. The rich aroma of blood bid she hold hard onto its neck, lest she let up too soon and the ram suddenly bolted free leaving her with naught but a memory of the smell of its blood. Thankfully, it would not be the case.

She waited a moment until the ram went still, the life draining from its body by each droplet of precious blood. When certain, she released her grip and shifted to her belly before rising to all fours. Her eyes were wide and hungry as she looked from Haunter to the fallen ram at their paws. Her stomach did not feel the caving to feast, but instinct compelled her to take action none the less. Her descent was quick, no more than a frenzied sweep of her muzzle into the hollow of its throat, tearing down through tendon and flesh til she reached the warm chest and broke through to a rib. She had chosen to leave the belly intact only due to the fact that the meal needed to be returned. There were others expecting the success of the kill, and while she was keen to share given the effort offered, she was not inclined to short her pack for any other.

She had known of hunger, but never with the insatiable drive to act beyond a sense of etiquette. There was always some manner of patience regardless of how strongly she hungered for flesh. It was unnerving to have another pace as she feasted, but she had heard tell of this behavior from hunters regarding their waiting subordinates. The rhythmic pace of ‘hurry’, never uttered but implied as they desired whatever scraps they could muster from the carcass once their superiors were finished. In this single instance to bear witness, she found the habit annoying but did not acknowledge it outright. Rather she kept her attention on the open chest instead, glancing up periodically to mind the steps of her companion. Until a bold and hungered flash of haunting gold caught her eye.

Ripping her muzzle from the carcass, she snapped at the invading maw, teeth unfurled and red as they shot out to take hold of the black muzzle by it bridge. Her throat rumbled in warning not unlike the brutish roar of her superior, but her intentions were far kinder than his would have been. Forcefully she drug his nose to the hollowed cavity of the chest then released him with a grunt, indicating sharply where he was allowed to eat since his patience would not render him still. She kept her eyes one him, wide and screening his posture. Her own physique was hunched as if preparing to butt him off if he so much as glanced at the belly of the kill. It was for neither of them, and so she intended to keep it that way. But so much as a nibble as bound to result in more violent consequences then a snatch to the muzzle.

In time, she had become a creature of tolerance, accepting of most things that went beyond her realm of control. Be it the insult of another, or natural disposition, as long as it did not affect her directly, she would accept and endure. But as the dark beast lunged for the ram despite her direction, that tolerance was nil, and in its place a naked rage for this defiance. The efforts for the fall of the kill may have been shared, but there were more than just the two of them that depended on the sweeter, healthy meats.

Without pause, she leapt over the ram towards the stretched dark neck of the male as he descended on the belly. She was not cruel enough to aim for his vital flesh, but more so the back of his throat towards the shoulder. She used the force of her bound in an effort to knock him away from the kill before he delved too deep, all the while letting her thundering chords swell in warning.

Quickly the interaction had devolved from a civil state to savage as the songs of tooth and aggression rang out. However different the reason, the desired result was the same; for either to have their way over the other in the presence of the fallen flesh.

Her bite had sought its mark, but lacked the malicious intentions of her counterpart. She had not yet the heart to cause unnecessary pain to another. This was not life or death, no threat beyond the carrion was apparent. Yet there was such righteous anger in the startling golden eyes. Once wide with the chase, now hardened by ferocity. She was unnerved by his determination to lay claim to the meat, yet would not allow it to overcome her. As he swing his head, and grasped for her throat, she felt instead the fury of his bite against her neck. Her yelp, an indication that it punctured through tan fur. By luck of size, there was enough fat to keep his incisors from reaching deeper in to bone, but the sting of tearing flesh was unavoidable.

Sucking in the pained gasp, she craned her neck back and to the side as she attempted to grasp for an ear that was no longer present. Yet she was relentless, straining against the pull of his teeth instead to turned deeper in by her front and try for a swipe at his side with a heavily laid paw.

OOC: No worries my sweet! <3 I know you've been busy

Never had she been compelled to fight like this over a portion of meat. It had been her place within her mountain pack to wait until it was turn to feed. Even in the Vale there was no cause for conflict when feeding. There was an order that all knew and had become accustomed to. But this… this savagery was something new to her altogether. To witness the hunger of wolves was one thing, but to be on the end of it, to be that force that kept one from filling their belly, was an entirely different danger altogether. And yet, she would not back down from it, regardless of how she had come to favor the Creek male. Regardless of how senseless this scrap was to her eyes.

Granted a moment by her blow to recoil, she stepped back with but a paw and raised her head defiantly, yet the simply act elicited a great deal of pain from the wound left from his bite. Her neck was throbbing beneath the slick fur, and like an itch it crept outward from its source.

She watched with wide eyes as he braced himself again, wild eyes dancing between her and the kill perhaps weighing his chances to steal the carcass. But she could not have that scenario play out. Carefully, with teeth bared, she lowered her head over the kill then slapped a heavy paw over its head as she plunged her muzzle into its open throat. Her eyes never strayed from the tense male, even as she felt around the cooling throat for a favorable portion of its flesh. It felt like minutes, but no more than seconds passed as she ripped out her muzzle with flesh in maw and tossed it purposefully toward the angered male. She stifled a wince as best as she was able, yet there was no denying the pain brought on by his bite. But she could not rest, not when the air was this charged with tension.

Lapping her quivering muzzle, she inched alongside the lying meat, raising her heavy paw and placed it instead along the belly of the prey. And there she stood over it, tensed and watchful, leaving the throat and chest open to take but guarded its belly as the treasure it was.

She could only watch as the dark male took his leave. Her offering went ignored as did the carcass itself in favor of an unsatisfied retreat from their kill. Confusion knocked brows as she dared to let herself relax, her eyes on his tail end until it was completely gone from sight. She did not understand how pride could have kept one from eating, having never let it consume her, herself. It was… just strange. She would not have driven him off, but such scenarios were for the mind to entertain.

Reluctantly, she turned from the edge and looked again to the fallen billy. With muzzle raised she sent a call to her brethren of the Vale to come and feast, or at least assist her in returning the bounty home. But not before severing a leg from the prey, and leaving it nearest the edge should Haunter return to the scene.

[Exit]