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+--- Thread: Broken Boulder Crucible of Broken Blouder (/showthread.php?tid=21786)
Crucible of Broken Blouder - Redmoon - May 12, 2017
His tongue shrank back into his jawline as he lay in the shade of a set of trees. Two trees had fallen, by whatever means he knew not, and they were crisscrossed yet they both leaned upon a large dominating fur, kicking up a small crawl space in which was room for basic shelter. Redmoon wasn’t interested in finding a home but the winds were up this day and he’d found a muskrat, the fat vermin was a tasty breakfast in this land aplenty with game. The taint of blood was still on his right paw where some of the prey’s fluids had doused him there, hence his cleaning. The remnants of the muskrat was naught but the head and tail, crunchy scraps he wanted to chomp down on though his belly mentioned a fullness and he didn’t want to overdo it.
For long weeks he’d been hunted by a large pack of wolves from the south. They’d chased him north where he’d vanished into the bramble and density of the Bracken Woods. From there the hunters had lost his scent and for more moons than he could remember he traveled southward where he’d met a darkened wolf of regal nature that’d helped him take down large game and to feed for the first time in a while. There he’d gorged himself, a clear mistake for one whose stomach had shrank do to the prior starvation during the run northward.
Lessons learned the hard way, he wasn’t about to repeat them. He continued to clean the paw until all that remained was the damp fur that was his own. He still hungered but he would not be foolish and so he collected the scraps and buried them in a shallow hole. If necessary, he’d know where they were. Otherwise, the scent was hidden. Perhaps not from a wolf as keen as he, but hidden enough that he was confident in a return to this spot. With a gentle stretch of his weary legs he rose to his full height of twenty-eight inches and lifted his nose to the passing drifts. A strange lingering taint was in the air and it came from the southeast. Ears snapped too like radars though he heard nothing, though the wind distorted him he still suspected what he smelled was not too far.
Easily the fire brand lifted up onto rough pads and he eased onward to the east. He would proceed in this direction and attempt to get around his target to the north and continue onward until he’d arrived on the eastern side. Once there he would approach his goal with the sun at his back, even though he’d be traveling upwind. He suspected that it was no wolf he sensed and so the hint of the winds would not reveal him so.
RE: Crucible of Broken Blouder - Redmoon - May 12, 2017
Hours had passed by and his pace never faltered. The scent drifted away though he still recalled whereabouts it would take him and by now he’d arrived at the point ‘most north’ of where his nose told him of something worth his time. For a vagabond without a home, he had nothing but time anyways. Especially since he was only concerned with survival till the next morrow. That was how this game of life was played - survival is what it was all about. When one failed to find a true goal or path, they could always fall back on the task of survival. It was the unending keeper and Redmoon knew the keeper well. The score keeper, who watched over all life and who tallied their marks through the journey of life, how many marks had Redmoon obtained? He didn’t know but he realized he still had a long ways to go.
Under the score keeper’s watch, Redmoon kept his pace until the winds began to change. At first he was sure they’d begin blowing south and give him away but as fortune had it, they blew away to the north and this was certainly advantageous. His approach from the east would go undetected in addition to the sun’s rays at his back. Though perhaps his calculations were off, he now was beginning to suppose that by the time he arrived, the sun would no longer be so low. A sigh admitted to another lesson learned that if one’s timing was well planned then surely one could use nature’s light. Though the sloth benefitted from neither.
Without the sun he was still going to be fine, but he decided to add a bit of speed to his pace and so he began to suffer a gentle trot. His ears flicked left and right continuously, searching for interlopers or watchers in the concealment of the woods. Keen senses picked up on critters and serpents though nothing worth stopping for. In fact it seemed many of the smaller game in the area was already under cover of their bolt holes.
That said, a thought entered Redmoon’s head, perhaps a predator he’d not sensed had come this way not long ago. ‘Impossible,’ he scoffed at himself, he’d not smelt the passing of any such creature along the apex rung. Surely he’d have sensed such predatory intent. Arrogance. A tang hit his nose and he stopped mid-trot. Hunkering low and perking his ears he scanned the area for his nose had never failed him and was the sharpest sense he held most dear. Nothing could sneak by his keen senses, though apparently his boastful approach was not so up to the snuff of keeping pace with his hubris. He needed to take it down a peg.
There was little doubt in his mind that the change of the winds, blowing northward, he’d caught wind of the scent of urine. It was pungent and strong - a territorial marking, he assumed. Finally his ears caught sound, it was very distant. That of a yipping pup. Not the form of crying but the form of pain interlaced this audible news.
Instinctively, Redmoon turned away and began moving on - keeping with his original route. Meddling with another’s affairs was a sure way to get scuffed, and out here in the Bracken, wounds would fast lead to death for a wounded predator couldn’t catch its prey or mayhaps would find itself as prey to something stronger. ‘Only the strong survive.’ Redmoon reminded himself. If the pup out there couldn’t will himself to survive then it was no business of his to intervene. He didn’t care, why should he? No one helped him when he was forced to flee from the packs of the far south. He ran until his pads bled to escape and no one had come to save him. He certainly wasn’t about to deliver any favors!
Turning his nose down to avoid the scents and ease his conscience, he continued eastward though eventually his nose tilted back up and he found a new direction - due south.
Compassion was unbecoming of a vagabond. He couldn’t afford to rescue some pup, he barely could feed himself. But that didn’t mean he had to be a scab. Carefully, he made way towards the distant sounds of torture.
RE: Crucible of Broken Blouder - Leila - May 12, 2017
Leila hadn't had all that great of a time bringing herself across the span of Teekon, and it showed in her eyes more than her frame. Rabbits and other small prey had come past to her, but it was obvious she wasn't suited for always being alone, catching what she could run down. Spring was not her favorite flavor of seasons, nor was it useful when it came to her hunting. She was an artic paired wolf, and she was doing poorly by trying to not take on a stealth measurement to her tactics.
However, today was different. She had crossed a lake earlier, and if there was one thing the exotic Paar had taught her, it was how to fish. She had filled her belly with the easy meal, and her gait was gay, near springy as she kept about her gentle lope through the forest. None of her problems were shown upon her sleve, and with mint crested eyes she took on the new sights.
The dainty wolfess was within meters of another wolf, and with light tones, she greeted the fellow lupine.
"Hello," she began just as he was starting to turn away. Her white ears flicked back, lightly abashed by the action before they flicked back to face where it was he was heading. Was there something amiss? Her auds locked on the hurt yowling of another wolf, though this was the sounds of an infant. She turned a mint stare to the russet, wondering what was going on.
RE: Crucible of Broken Blouder - Redmoon - May 15, 2017
Through some brush he moved with promised intent to investigate what was going on. He was laser focused on his task, so much so that he never even saw the white goddess mere meters away. When she purred at him he clenched his eyes shut and flatted his ears, knowing without a doubt he’d just been caught dead to rights - by a huntress. A snort followed as his embarrassment turned to frustration. Now with someone here, if he found the following situation something he didn’t like then he wouldn’t be able to just turn and leave - pretend he saw nothing at all. Now, he’d have the guilt of knowing someone had seen him pass by.
Not that he had ground to stand on. He didn’t even know where here was and for all intents and purposes he was brand new to the Teekon. This female would likely forget him in a day. Little did he know that this was the land of the timber wolf, not the red wolf. He literally stuck out like a sore thumb and would be easy to remember and difficult to forget. Typical, he was caught and now this she wolf had him. At least she sounded friendly…
He turned to face her, his backside spinning away and releasing a branch which snapped into his face and he stumbled to the ground. His mouth had been open in a light pant and some waxy leaves had been caught in his mouth. His tongue went to work, spitting them out with his ears flicking outward. How pathetic he must have looked. One leaf got caught deep and he had to cough to get it out all while he fought to address her. “…Hi…” he hacked, “wait… one…” another hack and the leaf lodged itself deeper. He cringed as he swallowed it and shook his head.
“Ah…” he started as he now took her in for the first time. A pelt of misty white, perfect in its setting and nearly too bright to look at in the dawning sun. Her patched eyes brought blue sapphires that stole right through Redmoon’s heart and soul. She burned her image in his mind in an instant and combined with her sweet voice, he found himself at a complete and utter loss. “Hello there, sorry something’s but on going there over.” Again he cringed, first impressions were important and he was making a fool’s impression sure enough. He spat a sigh and attempted his words again, “Hello, but I’m sorry, I can’t talk. Something is going on over there. It isn’t far.”
Oh how he wanted to stay and speak to her, the first friendly face he’d seen in days! But the cries of the pup were prevalent and as another cry yipped out he turned to face the sounds. Contrasting what he’d like to do between what he should do, he snorted again. “Sorry.” He turned and flitted away into the brush.
Every loped step through the leaves brought him away from the shining pelt and he cursed himself every single step. But the cries kept pulling him onward. He couldn’t turn away now. He was in too deep.
RE: Crucible of Broken Blouder - Leila - May 15, 2017
It felt strange to see the wolf freeze so suddenly, just as if she took his life and replaced him with a statue. The only thing that moved were his ears, flat, only giving away her assumption that he was a live statue. The ivoria was just happy he didn't chase her around, like so many others.
He had turned to face her, and her ceruleans gazed into emeralds, fresh and wonderful. She was taken aback by the really pretty orbs, but her awe was short lived as she watched the man near kill himself. Upon turning, a twig attempted to assasssinate him, thrusting leaves into an open mouth. Minty gems widened, the wolfess stuck between wanting to immediately help him and trying to figure out how to do it. Would she only get in the way? What if she only assisted in killing him? What if he took it that way, lived and wanted to kill her? Her pale ears flicked back, her being too docile to want any part in a murder, and fleeing almost happened.
However, the show was over as one felt textured hind reached backwards. It was evident the effort he put to respond to her, as he literally swallowed a leaf to address her. She blinked, straightening, and feeling a bit special at the work. It was almost a compliment, though he near asphixiated himself to give it to her. A gentle wave of a soft plume she gave him, ears righting themselves and she smiled at him.
After what she had gotten from him, another cry caused her to break eye contact with the gentleman before her, fair gaze turning concerned as she looked over his broad shoulder. The stare shifted back to him, his words capturing her attention.
"I've noticed. I'll help you, friend."
Her dulcets skittered benevolently past as she made a move to accompany and assist him. She had heard the pained sounds of a pup, and it of course wrenched her tender heart to hear such noises. She just had to do something! She followed the russet without question.
RE: Crucible of Broken Blouder - Redmoon - May 16, 2017
Her smile alone was a thing of grace and it captured Redmoon, the wave of her tail just as gentle. But as distracting as she was, he wasn’t so blinded to continue on his mission. Whatever that mission was. She agreed to come with him and he certainly didn’t argue, he’d forgotten what company was and having a friendly face was nice for a change. He may be a wanderer but that didn’t mean he solely enjoyed being alone. There again, that didn’t mean he completely trusted her either. They’d just met - but this was a chance to learn of her character in a way words couldn’t do.
They moved forward and this is where the red pelt took stock of her scent. He enjoyed her presence and at first it was very difficult to sense her feelings but from what he could gather from her proximity was that she was kind and concerned. Kindness perhaps came naturally but he couldn’t be sure. Concerned came from the cries of the youngster. His own scent would be giving off insecurity from the feeling of being unsure if he wanted to find out what was causing the cries or not and the inability to see the task to the end. Redmoon was no coward and he held a moral compass - but he understood he was just one wolf in a big world with a whole mess of nasty realities. He was fit and strong, but still young and trying to find his way in the world. Most of the time he tried hard to avoid difficult circumstances for the fact that he was indeed, alone. If he was wounded out here in the wilds then he’d be unable to hunt or track or even hide properly. He’d be dead within a week. It rebelled against the survivalist in him that he was even going on this search of the pup.
But neither could he turn away. He cringed at what he may find but he also refused to let himself run into the hills. It was difficult being a wolf with no home and it was worse being one that was looking for a way forward.
They traveled together some distance, shoulder to shoulder, several times Redmoon accidentally bumped into her as they trotted along. It took him a few moments to understand her scent as in how she moved and finally he was able to not be so obtuse and avoided further collisions, a good thing too as their level of stealth naturally increased. He thought about Anubis and thanked the dark pelt for his lessons in silent movement. It hadn't made Redmoon in anyway a wraith in the night but it made him better off in his efforts.
Arriving at a low rise covered in earthen colors, Redmoon blended well with his surroundings. But the true thing that stuck out was not his lovely counterpart but the pumgent aroma of blood, urine and fecal matter. It hung in the air with a thickness that couldn't be ignored. But as well came the sounds of laughter, cackling maniacally in multiple voices. They were high in pitch, very audible to a typical wolf's ears but very much so from the acute and keen senses of Redmoon. "Three," he whispered to her, "four max." That assessment was troubling. If these were nefarious fellows then this wouldn't spell well for the duo.
Forward he crept now until they crested the mound and looked down. They loomed over a field that looked like a battle but in truth it was a butcher's mat. A wolf den was in the base of a rotten stump and it had been dug out. Signs of a struggle scoured the ground heavily and a she-wolf lay some yards off with her throat ripped out and wounds all over. Clearly she'd fought the good fight. Not far lay two pups, unmoving and soaked in red.
Then, there towards the edge of this clearing was a third pup, fighting to get away from three vile creatures of which held a scent Redmoon hadn't ever found. They were smaller than he was and their coats were filthy and unkept. They instinctively gave the feeling of criminality and thievery. Redmoon would come to know these things as coyotes.
Occasionally the pup would escape only to be pounced upon and swatted to the ground. They were doing this for sport and unlikley out of necessity. Redmoon flattened his ears and released a low growl.
In his heart he yearnedto leap into action. The beast within desired to go down there and seek revenge for the atrocity given. But the survivor warned that turning around was best. Out here in this world it was the victor's spoils. Only the strongest would survive. This was just how things were. Redmoon's mood began to falter as he warred within himself, unsure of what to do.
The wounded pup was probably already dead, wounded beyond saving. What would it matter to fight over a corpse? He knew that way of thinking was wrong and he raged agaisnt it. It was difficult, part of him wanted to turn a blind eye, part wanted to sally forth - the conflict in his heart was immense.
But his choice was made for him finally when he saw the wounded pup lash out and scratch the eye of one of his aggressors. The coyote recoiled a moment and then began to maul the pup anew. Redmoon saw his own fate in that moment and even if he was damned to die here, if there was any fight left in him he needed to show it. Never give up, even if those odds were high.
Redmoon gave off his scent that he was about to charge. "I'm going down there." He whispered again.
RE: Crucible of Broken Blouder - Leila - May 16, 2017
Leila was finding herself being continuously patted by the gentleman, her flank and shoulders being lightly bumped every other step. It didn't hurt her, nor did it upset her. If anything, it was the closest feeling of being in a pack she had in quite some time, and knowing there were 8 paws around rather than just one eased the gentle girl into a sense of security. Eventually it pettered out, taking with it her little smidge of ridiculously felt protection. She actually missed bumping him.
Leila kind of wanted to stick with him, no matter what task he set himself to. This one she had joined because it had peaked her interest too, but even before she had genuinely wanted to get to know him. He seemed just, well, nice. Other than a bit on the bad side of Nature, he seemed like a nice wolf. Handsome and strong, she was sure he would go out and get into all kinds of dangerous arrangements, but hopefully, if she were there with him, she would be able to help him get better.
Onward they moved, low and ears near further than their own snouts as they attempted finding out what really was going on here. Minty irises turned to the verdes of the man, one ear focused on him while the other was forward straining to figure everything out all at once.
He had told her the expected number of assailants, and she bit back a whimper. That was quite a few, and if they were large enough, they might not get out of this in one piece. They had arrived in the brush of the clearing, their gazes peeled forward more intense than anything she could have vied for. What her sight took in chilled her bones as the realization hit. A lone mother, trying her hardest to protect her pups was slaughtered without any sense of mercy, no care, none. It was a brutal thing, and leila couldn't understand what happened next, but it was all a blur as her common sense and connection on reality hit nonexitence. It just snapped off, like some branch plucked from a tree.
At first she was standing next to the charming man next to her, his righteous fury paired with her disbeliving horror, but then the next she had heard him say something. In the back of her mind, she heard him, but he was behind her, in she spot where she had left him. She was...she was in the clearing! Her once soft and silked down pelt now bristled as her own wrath was evoked, her gleaming pearl daggers flashing with intent, and a sound she had never once come from her soft spoken voice- a roaring snarl that was put on near even parr with the first shakes of thunder, itself. She was a feaful thing, something immaculate in savagery as her instincts were pulled by emotions she hadn't quite yet gotten an understanding of.
Like a dart she charged in, her lunge keenly aimed at the beast that dared to attempt tearing the life away from the youth, a future, a soul, a potential mate for one, the daughter of two, the one who deserved to live. She was mad, and if she was lunging at a fully grown bear, she still would have not regretted it. She was mad, and she would have justice served, today.
RE: Crucible of Broken Blouder - Redmoon - May 17, 2017
Her scent was the first change and indication that he felt in that she would lose her composure and launch into action. At a glance his eye caught her imposing form and the wicked snarl she produced. It came from deep inside her chest and rumbled out as a sleeping dragon emerging from its cavernous home. He was taken aback a moment and he wouldn’t soon forget the ferocity she delivered here this day and if there was a tonight or a tomorrow with her - he would be certain to carefully tread. For the survivalist in him warned him dearly that to cross this she-wolf would result in an uncanny rage that he was ill prepared for.
It was almost hard to believe, how such a kind soul could change in emotion like the snapping of a twig but there is was before his green gaze. She rushed into the open without thought or further hesitation. The act in itself was noble if not stupid that she hadn’t thought it through. Then again, how could a rational wolf not act on instinct when pups were being mauled right in from of them? Redmoon felt almost ashamed that he’d not done so first but there again, he never rushed things. Every moment of every day was a challenge in which to survive and that was what he was best at.
For a moment the survivalist in him sparked a thought that - hey, she’d be able to handle the coyotes herself, this was the perfect time to turn his back and get out of town. The situation was being handled, no reason for him to draw things out. Likely the feral coyotes would see her coming and flee, for him to rush out there was silly. A tactical error even for then the raiders would learn the truth in numbers rather than keeping a card in the deck. A blatant lie and he knew it. The coyotes would see her coming and fight for their claim. They’d already killed the mother who’d likely have fought more ferociously than both Redmoon and Leila could, why not stick around and add another wolf to the tally.
There was something that was to be known about Redmoon. He’d been alone most of his life, living day to day and struggling to get that far. He didn’t wake up every morning after a night of brawling. He woke up every morning after a night of scavenging and lurking. He was no coward - he simply took survival as an instinct. Now - rushing out into a clearing to avenge dead wolves - not his cup of crystal spring water. Everything about it warned against his will to survive. This was the way to find a grave in a shallow ditch - sooner rather than later.
He already saw it forming, the primary attacker had been startled but was standing its ground while the other two spread out. As soon as Leila hit the leader then the two would come from the flank and she wouldn’t stand much chance. He swallowed hard. Was he about to let his first potential friend in this new world die just so he could ensure he woke up in the morning?
‘I don’t think so,’ he growled from his gullet. Part of him laughed at his false determination. He was no fighter. Sure he dreamt of the day he’d grow into a strong wolf that could hold his ground but reality was harsh, though he accepted it.
But he had her scent and he wasn’t about to let go, on top of that he had no intention of letting this continue. Perhaps if he could do it all over again he’d have begun his movement with a valiant howling charge or something dramatic - not this time though for he turned around and circled once, getting pumped up and the adrenaline began beating against his chest. The fire in his heart roared to life as the beast arose, it was time to see battle! He leapt from the hillside and cruised into the opening, the coyotes were locked in on Leila and with the earthen tones of his pelt he blended in well as he blurred across the distance at top speed.
Ear flatted to his scalp, teeth barred in a silent snarl, low profile to take his opponent with a center of impact. He tore across the ground, dirt flung from him in a rooster tail. The seconds passed by though they were few and he closed in the blink of an eye. If the coyotes had a chance to retaliate they missed their chance and the left most wiry dog was slammed dead on. Redmoon rammed him, using his broad chest to pulverize the smaller canine creature, knowing that using his teeth at such speed had a chance to break them. The impact was so fierce that it nearly took the wind out of him as he ploughed over the first of the three coyotes, trampling it beneath his ever churning paws. Claws unintentionally scrapped and cut the unfortunate target as he was flattened by such a forceful blow. The thump of the impact sounded harsh and dull, something broke and Redmoon was pleased it hadn’t been him.
Redmoon skidded to a halt and turned to face the downed mammal though the coyote was sprawled out and flailing, it couldn’t get coordination from its fore legs. He knew not why but in reality the coyote had lost all equilibrium and was temporarily stunned, though it wouldn’t be for long. In a victorious and very surprised pause, Redmoon let out a snort and grinned. His inexperience showing as he never saw the third coyote come. He was about to learn a very valuable lesson - if he survived.
A dirt encrusted, mangy, coyote leapt onto the bigger wolf’s back, teeth dug into the back of his neck and fore paw mounted claws locked the coyote in place on Redmoon’s back. The red pelt yelped in both surprise and pain. They tumbled to the ground, dirt, legs and bodies rolling across the coarse ground. Redmoon finally got his senses back and his yelp turned into a fierce and ravenous snarl as the beast within his heart came forth.
The real fight then began as Redmoon caught the haunch of the hind leg on his foe and yanked it from his back. They fell into a nasty melee, but with weight and size and the nature of his hidden ruthless temper, Redmoon was sure to come out on top.
But even now, the stunned coyote was coming too and was surely going to go after his heavy hitting attacker.
RE: Crucible of Broken Blouder - Leila - May 18, 2017
She had no conception of time, space, physics, reality, as she flew into the suprised body of the coyote. She was a terror, a threat that was considered too late. It was too late for the coyote to react, as she found nothing but flesh giving way beneath dagger ivories, and what attempted to resist was forcibly pulled apart by yanks between a killingly powerful duo of pulling with teeth and pushing with forelimbs. Shards of bones and sinew were crunched and shredded by a she-devil, merciless in her pursuit.
There was nothing left, a twiching mass of unspoken promise to any that cast an eye to what mess she had made. It was once a coyote, yes, but now it was a plump heap of congealed organs, matter and pools of blood. Never before was her pelt stained so tellingly, maw dipped in death's dew, scarlet staining her face and hide, rubies against a sheet of diamonds.
A glare over her shoulder was all it took for her to spy her next target. A stunned canid hobbled to it's fours, gathered it's bearings, and attempted to two-team the already dueling Redmoon. Leila dashed across the clearing, dominating the distance through long limbs and a fury of pace. Just as the damned dog reared upon the russet friend, her own fangs unsheathed once again from the no longer holy lips of her, and gripped with likeness of a beartrap upon the ruff of the coyote.
Backwards she dragged the mutt, like some demonic fiend out to return the condemned down below.
The coyote snapped and snarled, trying it's hardest to find anything that would free it of it's unseen leash, but Leila was untouchable through the angle she held the smaller canid by. Her fours spread apart as she braced herself for the cruel punishment, the torment, the end she would fell upon this worthless slog.
Tighter the grip she held, then her work began. Twisting her neck sharply in a semicircle, the hellion threw the coyote into the ground with a force unknown, but fully illustrated. Audibly bones cracked, as the dog pummeled into the ground on its side. Its hip bone was definitely shattered, no less, but she was nowhere near done. Again she rammed the coyote into the ground, this time on the other side, repeating the procedure, but reversed. The slew of snaps promised the same fate to the dog's other half. Leila returned the tactic again, throwing her prey onto the previously assaulted side, the body being a battering ram to the hardened dirt. Again, and again, and again she racked the earth with coyotes pathetic form, until nothing but a severed head remained in her bloody jowls.
![[Image: opbuon.jpg]](http://i66.tinypic.com/opbuon.jpg)
Time had passed well over as she continued slamming shanks of coyote into pulverization. The head hung by threads in her fangs, the misture of fear and agony plastered forever onto the front of the decapitated creature. She wasn't there, standing amongst the rancid pile of corpse she had turned to shredded matter. Finally the head dropped from her lips, the thing landing with a sickening 'shlop' in the remains. But still she stood, still, as she attempted to regain what little sense of herself she had, if there was any left.
RE: Crucible of Broken Blouder - Redmoon - May 18, 2017
The audible butchering of the coyote duo outside of his own desperate melee had gone on without Redmoon realizing what had actually occurred. If he had caught wind of the savage nature of Leila then perhaps he’d be as fearful as the coyotes had been before their very bloody ends. Alas, Redmoon and his foe were going claw to claw and jaw to jaw. They ripped and rent as they did so, neither gaining the upper hand for the bulk of the wolf overpowered the smaller built coyote while the experience of this raider leveled the playing field considerably. No doubt, if Leila hadn’t unleashed her rage, this setting would be different by far.
Gnashing teeth held in an intrepid snarl with ear spilt out to his flanks gave Redmoon a fearsome look, even so, his opponent didn’t back down. They went at it again, the tan pelt rushed Redmoon’s left forepaw but he hopped out of the way and pounced down on the lunge, he caught the coyote by the face in the sheath of his iron forged jaws and he wrenched off to the side, bringing with the rip a froth of heated blood and strips of tan motley fur.
Though Redmoon failed to obtain purchase, his jaws had reaped a generous tally and the coyote squirmed, flopping away with a series of pained yips. But before Redmoon could finish the job, the ingrate fled into the brush.
Panting heavily, teeth enshrined in crimson, he spat the strips of flesh from his maw and shook his coat heavily as pains started to appear in his consciousness. A dozen small cuts were on his shoulders and back from when the coyote had mounted him in the opening of the fight and a few minor abrasions were along the left side of his muzzle where the coyote’s claws had swept. He was alive! The first thought that came to mind in that moment but as soon as the thought registered, the scent of youth wafted into his nose and he spun around - his green eyes locking onto the wounded pup.
Approaching, he grimaced at the damage and when he nudged the pup with his nose he felt the icy hand of death. The pup was ice cold and its heartbeat was barely noticeable. It seemed that they were indeed, too late to save this one. It whimpered poorly and tried to move away from him, the pain evident in the tiny lupine’s face. “Be still now.” Redmoon called low, trying to not let his gravel tuned voice impact further fear to the little one. It tried only harder to escape and the red pelt set a paw on the opposite side, preventing further movement. “Be still, I said, girl!” He snapped at the youth, knowing that every ounce of strength was needed to survive and fighting to flee from him wasn’t productive.
Having seen enough death in his time, these wounds were the kind that wolves did not recover from. He frowned deeply at this and spied the worst of the cuts - a tooth ridden laceration just above the stomach line and it was very deep. Evidently the coyotes had intended to gut the pup and eat the tender insides first, such despicable behavior began to churn Redmoon’s stomach into knots but he forced himself to hold his ground on the child’s behalf.
Finally though the pup listened to him and now she sat still, heaving in weakened breaths and making tiny pants of desperation. It was truly a heartbreaking scene, and seeing it was bringing the cold reality of life slamming into Redmoon’s sensibilities. Life was harsh and these things happened. It was the way of the wilds and nature’s law. Only the strongest in the eyes of the Scorekeeper would survive this tenacious reality and even then, the Caller took up your name. “Girl,” he whispered, caring for her own wellbeing wasn’t an option at this point, “the Caller is coming. Don’t be afraid. Your name is among the ones who’ve gone before.” In his way he was trying to reassure her that everything was going to be ok but her life was counted in moments at best. “I need you to recall - are there more of the raiders afoot?”
The pup whimpered sadly - she didn’t want to die - no one did. But Redmoon pressed again, “Listen girl, there is nothing we can do for you, but I must know - is there more of the raiders nearby? Were there only three among your litter?”
There it was, that bit made sense to the pup and she whimpered a very weak ‘yes’ that Redmoon struggled to hear despite his sharp senses. Redmoon nodded affirming the answer, “How many, from your litter were taken?” He inquired.
“Two.” Mumbled the mortally wounded pup, her movements were growing weaker and the visible rise and fall of her chest no longer was showing - the life of this one was passing into the next. If Redmoon wanted answers he needed to be swift, though a pang of regret was seared into him in that he wasn’t able to show compassion. Time was too short and the lives of other littermates depended on this information. In that moment a spike of ice was sank into Redmoon’s heart. The cold nature of his actions through the necessity of his mission were clear. Instead of letting this pup find peace, he was forcing her to relive the past. Yes, he was ashamed, but without this information he knew the other pups were just as dead as this one was.
Despite his reservations, now he was getting somewhere. “Where did they take your siblings?” He urged and she responded slightly before expelling her last. He closed his eyes at the departure of the young one and tipped his nose to the ground in defeat.
“The Caller has taken her home.” He mentioned in a low tune as he turned to face the stricken form of Leila. Though for his sadness in the matter he felt no shock at the beauties appearance. He approached Leila’s side and nudged his muzzled underneath her chin to wake her from her shocked state.
He wanted to take her in and ensure she was ok but this was not the time - there was still work to be done yet this day and already the sun had risen high and was now beginning to fall towards the other horizon. The moon was beginning to show as well, a full circle with a slight shade upon it - at least he was thankful that the red moon wasn’t here to greet him again. He took the time to divulge what information he’d gotten from the murdered pup. “This litter was five. Two are still unaccounted for and she indicated the coyotes had taken them.” For what purpose he did not know, but the thought occurred to him that nature didn’t need a purpose and the separation of species was enough. “From what I see here though, they’ve been taken to be fed on.” He swallowed hard, unsure of what to do - his instincts screamed at him to just leave this alone and let things be. Even if the pups were alive, they’d been taken to a den and there was no telling the numbers they were now against. And even then! If they managed to save the pups, he knew nothing of child care or where he could take them for sanctuary. Under his eye he’d surely fight to keep them alive but they wouldn’t last long.
But the other part of him told himself he’d not let this stand. He’d find the den and root them all out and he’d keep those pups alive until they found a migrating pack somewhere. There again, what pack would take in two strange pups? It was unlikely, but Redmoon didn’t see much option to go the other way.
“I’m going after them.” He announced, “I’m going to Broken Boulder.”
RE: Crucible of Broken Blouder - Leila - May 18, 2017
Leila hadn't noticed anything of change. She was just there. Just existing. She hadn't thought, blinked, hell, she barely breathed. Pieces of her were brought together, taking shard by shard to bring back some resembalance of her. eventually, she had gathered enough to power herself back on, slowly coming to bay of what happened. She was standing in filth, riddled by gore, and tainted with the taste of blood in her mouth.
It was sickening. If anything, she desperately wanted to clean herself, to groom this madness away, but she couldn't. Primarily, the safety of the pup, but secondarily, if she revisited anything dealing with this fight too soon, her mind might break. She knew what happened, and there was only one thing that could release such a blackout- she had the genes of a beserker. She knew she had northern roots, but she had no idea they would lead so north as to be in a Norse setting. Viking blood had never been a thought to occur to her.
But upon hearing the sounds of the baby, ears immediately swiveled to meet the voices. She wobbled over to the two, Redmoon wh would need medical attention if she didn't wish him to have any kind of infections, and the pup which she could already smell death clutching the soul of. "Oh," she gasped, holding a burgundy dyed paw to her mouth, not believing the wounds she was seeing. Redmoon was obviously stonger than her, as her eyes began their watering. She could not believe what they had done to this baby...they were going to eviscerate the poor thing, consume her from the outside, in. Those..those mosters.
But who was she to speak?
She watched with watery mint eyes, her inner turmoil threatening to overturn her own silence, as she watched Redmoon reap what was needed from the little one. He was efficient, not cold, but pressing, as he gathered the answers. Leila respected this red wolf, as his timbre of strength was enough to steele her own depression. Listening to the intent of his voice gave her the impression tha there was a bigger picture, and in order to prevent catastrophe, you needed to play a part.
In this, Leila found peace,
as did the pup.
She stared at the cooling baby girl as something soft brought her attention back to reality. A nuzzle from the companion, soft and awakening brought her back from the brink. Time stopped it's stillness as he returned her to the realm, touching her without hesitation, as if,...as if she wasn't a monster for faith. Faith she could end these urchins and save a doomed baby. One that wasn't even hers. That she had put not only her own life in danger, but because he cared for her, his own. She couldn't help it; she nuzzled him back.
After putting a soft nose to the colder baby, she thought of a sweet neame the darker pup could have had. 'Destiny'.
She began to dir a hole, a grave in which to put the deserving pup into, as his baritones graced the air again. Broken Boulder? Taking the soft scruff up the pup, she gently laid her in the grave, remarkably deep enough so smells wouldn't permeate trhough, and prevent scavengers from reaching her.
After a final pat to the now covering soil of the grave, she smoothed out the land and returned her minty stare to the adamant emeralds.
"I am coming with you. We have to stop this...We have to."
The fae too was determined. She wanted nothing of the same fate to lash the upbringing of new wolves, as they were just kids. Kids did not deserve such a harsh death. But neither did they.
"But first, we need to get you healed. If we are going to take on the troubles of such a life, we both need to be in a fit shape. I am able to take care of your wounds, but we need to be near the right herbs."
Looking away, the woman couldn't find it in herself to say it aloud, but she also wanted to bring help into the situation. She knew Cry would be mad at her, but maybe Mr. X could assist. Or atleast be able to spare them another friend in which to travel through such desperate and troubling times, with.
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RE: Crucible of Broken Blouder - Redmoon - May 18, 2017
She was receptive, that was good. Freezing up would do neither of them well in this situation. They didn’t have the time and the missing pups were counting on them for Redmoon feared that no one else was coming. Way out here too, there was no one to that could arrive within time to help. If the pups survival was to be seen - it was going to be through the tests and trials of both Redmoon and Leila. This was their crucible, this was their defining moment. If they faltered in their resolve then two wolves would die, if they persevered then they had a chance to find something more.
Though when she went to bury the pup he nearly questioned the act. True, scavengers and carrion birds would feast on the remains but wasn’t that the way of things. The act of burying the dead, it seemed strange to Remoon, he’d not ever seen it done before. The dead’s spirit belonged to the Caller and the body belonged to the earth. Perhaps this still served the same purpose but to be honest he was indifferent to the show of respect. Needless to say he didn’t disturb her as she went about her duties for it was something to get her mind off of the prior events - he admitted even he could use a distraction but instead he thought back and recalled the fight. There he noted his mistakes and shortcomings. He would be sure not to fumble again lest a greater cost strike him and he may fall from the Scorekeeper’s favor.
He didn’t argue when she agreed to go with him. If he had that much trouble with one coyote then he could only imagine what difficultly he’d have with a den of the thieves and cutthroats. Seeing the results of her actions - she could be extremely handy to have around in a tight situation. He frowned, that was the desperate survivor in him talking again. A look at her gore soaked coat in addition to the frightened scent she wore told him he didn’t want her to push herself into this mess more than she had too.
But then as the beast subsided within him and his mind felt more rationale he thought better of it all. This wasn’t about either of them - this was about two kidnapped pups. He let out a soft sigh of reluctant resignation. If they were to overcome this then they’d have to do it together or not at all.
That said, he took stock into her kind words. Healing, he knew little of it. When she spoke of the ‘right herbs’ he cringed a bit. He hated eating vegetation but instinctively he recognized the fiber was good for him and helped defeat worms. Oh but it was disgusting and the worst part was that it didn’t bleed. At first he went to protest but her assessment was sound. They were going into unknown territory and right into the jaws of a hostile den, being in top shape was essential to survival and if anyone knew about a vagabond’s survival it was Redmoon. That was something he could get behind.
While the captured pups were still in coyote paws, it would do them no good if Redmoon and Leila were weakened by infection. He took a weary glance to her, “There is a creek bed not too far from here. Maybe it’ll have what you need.”
He was still quite troubled about today’s events and as the day’s sunlight continued to carve itself away, he was ever more concerned. They were already too late once, being late again wasn’t something he was interested in. “We’d better move.”
RE: Crucible of Broken Blouder - Leila - May 20, 2017
Leila nodded affirmation of the suggestion. They had better get as fast as possible to a lake, river, or anything. It was a great way to replenish thirst, clean wounds, and stumble across multiple vegetations.
After she thought a moment, she recalled a lake she had come across on her way to that specific section of woods. It was lush and full of life, where she had gone to hunt prior for the fish. She hadn't looked around and taken notice of any specific plants, so she couldn't be sure if the ones she would need would even be there or not. They relied on hope, and with hers, she hoped the materials she would need would indeed be at the creek bed that sprawled from the body of water.
"Westward, right?I was there fishing, not too long ago. That way."
Muzzle pointed west, she began the trek forward. As she travelled, she wondered...how dire was it for her to risk her own life for these pups. The woman knew she wouldn't deny such a thing, as the oppertunity was right before her, but what of Redmoon? Was she meant to be here with him? If fate made it happen, who was she to tear it apart. She enjoyed life, and for anything to try ruining it for anyone, was taboo in her mind.
These coyotes would get what they deserved.
RE: Crucible of Broken Blouder - Redmoon - May 24, 2017
They traveled together in relative silence for what seemed like forever, for all intents and purposes it had been as much - four hours. While the actual distance wasn’t that far, for a pair of wolves nursing a few minor injuries and attempting to conserve their strength, four hours had been a generous amount of time. Mostly though, the silence was on Redmoon’s end - he’d never experienced the cruelty he’d found back there, he knew nature ran its course and predatory rivals often slaughtered other species’ packs and litters in an unending and unseen war, but to see it first hand was something that was lasting on his mind.
In relative terms, he thought for a while if he’d be capable of doing such acts and part of him laughed and said no in quite the resolute fashion though another part stayed silent and only stirred the beast inside his heart. He swallowed, knowing that the beast was a rage that would do whatever was necessary to ensure survival - while torture was not his way, he didn’t doubt he’d kill at a moment’s notice. Or would he? He huffed, unsure of himself. Self defense - absolutely he’d kill, but when the defense of another came to call, would it not be easier to just turn aside and run, live to fight another day?
He bit his tongue during the thought and it snapped him back to reality, his nose twitched as he smelt the water and it was icy fresh. Unbeknownst to Redmoon, it ran from the southern positioned glacier through a creek and it filled Leila’s discovered pond. Its waters would be very cooling and refreshing to the touch. Taking in a deep breath he began to trot along at a better pace now that the water source was nearby.
As he made way through the woods his mood fell back on his thoughts. He knew what he was capable of but a large part of him was very reluctant to acknowledge it. Then again he was still in denial that he too was part of nature - Redmoon would do what he needed to do. He caught Leila in the corner of his eye as he trotted, what of her though? If she fell to a foe would he be so keen to put himself into danger and come to her aid? He honestly couldn’t think of an instance where he would not do so. He sensed her tender heart and he instinctively wanted to shield her from his cold nature, he was nearly ashamed that he fought with these thoughts where she could just go in stride with them.
But as they caught sight of the clearing which held the pond and the light of day began to relax behind the tree tops, he recalled the wounded pup’s words that two of its kin were stolen away. From whatever recesses in his mind, a stirring resolve came and he instantly knew that there would be no conflict. He would see those pups free and the dead avenged. It felt right and it felt like the true and only choice to be made.
Another glance to the stained red pelt beside him, seeing through the dangers she’d faced and actions she’d done - it told him all he needed to know and he was very thankful for her company. Otherwise - he glanced away and his eyes shamefully fell back to the ground as it sped by underneath - he wasn’t sure he’d go back.
The conflict in his mind sped in circles as they approached the clearing. He slowed his pace and lifted his nose to the air, he smelt his own blood as much as the breeze brought in the water’s essence and his companion’s scent. It felt good to not be alone for once. It gave off a comforting feeling that he didn’t have to worry if he’d turn around and find another predator or set of them - eyeing for his skin. Or that he wouldn’t have to find food alone and be disappointed time after the other. Distracted, he shook his head and lifted his nose again to sniff the air, again he couldn’t smell as well as he should have - the cuts on his muzzle and nose wafted his own coppery taste to his senses and muddled him a bit. Alas, he smelled nothing in their vicinity.
“I think we’re alright to move in.” He looked to her for a moment of confirmation. Being four hours after the battle, his shoulders were beginning to move with pains, the puncture holes of teeth and the scrapes of claws on his back were trying to heal naturally but it was also the untreated measure of an open wound calling out to him. Forcing himself to look much tougher than he really was, he fought to ignore the pains, despite the beginning stages of a slight favoring of his right side. Essentially he wasn’t doing a good job of being too macho. Eventually the façade ended and he gave in, taking a seat beneath the low hanging branched of a slopping fir tree that acted as a gentle piney canopy.
He was panting a bit - fatigue was catching up now and he wanted to curl up and find some shut eye. Before today his solution had always been just to sleep it off. “What do you need from me?” He asked softly, willing to manage whatever she needed of him since she was the expert in this field of medicine compared to him. Best he knew was to keep it clean, he was oblivious to anything else.
RE: Crucible of Broken Blouder - Leila - May 30, 2017
Through time, all wounds healed. Not all of them; that would be too easy. leila wanted to know though, as they travelled, would time heal her wound of lonliness? She had met Cry, and she had w decent time with the dark wolf, but he wasn't a friend she could have a deep heart to heart conversation with. She was a social girl, delicate and balanced for the most part,...all she needed to find was her other half. But who could the sweet girl rely on, other than herself? This wasn't just a reflection time for Redmoon...it was her own, as well. Leila was caught up in her own self reflection, thoughts swimming from how she had managed to go berserker in battle, to how she had currently felt in travelling with her newest friend. She loved making friends, family, packmembers. Cry was lile a brother to her, but she couldn't have a deep conversation with him. Not yet, atleast. A growing trench began in the pale girl, one only true companionship would fill. Could Redmoon do it? Almost as if he read her mind, she felt him turn to glance at her, her mind tricking her into thinking a face like which he had was almost asking her to ask him the very question she posed to herself - Could he do it?
They had made it to the watering hole's claw trails, streams branching through the lands, while they just happened upon one of them. She wondered, was there any ash oak around? Ferns? Moss? Surely there was no mint, but if she could find Cattails, they should be ok.
She had noticed he had began to limp, and as she accompanied him to a tree, she loomed closer to him, prepared to catch him if he fell. Helping him to the base of the tree, she began looking around for the herbs, already spotting moss on a slightly further strew of rocks and boulders, while cattails blew densely from the left of them in the ends of the streams fringe. His words brought her minty focus right back to him. Softly, she replied, "I need you to conserve your strength. What I am going to do is gonna sting a little, and I won't feel right hurting you, but I'll need to remain grounded in this if it's to help you. "
She knew it was going to tear her up inside that it would sting him, but she also knew it was going to be the only way she could rid the filth of those mangy coyotes from his system. "Can you talk to me through it, Redmoon? Please?" The fae didn't exactly understand it, but probably because Redmoon seemed so confident, sure of himself to her, she relied on such strength. It fueled her own, and settled her resolve in useful ways. This could be one of them, healing him.
RE: Crucible of Broken Blouder - Redmoon - May 30, 2017
Conserve his strength - that was something he could concentrate on easily enough. So there he sat beneath the fir tree, the gentle breeze blew the glacial fed pond’s scent to him and the icy chill made him shiver a bit as the time passed by silently. The scratches along his nose were not deep and likely wouldn’t even scar, but there were three of them - one running the length of his soft black nose while the other two ran the length of his muzzle width ways. They’d long ago stopped bleeding, though his nose was keen and he could still smell the wound well. It was along his shoulders that the damage had been done.
The left shoulder held scrapes and scratches, the right held six puncture wounds that were deep and two clawed tears, not as deep as the punctures but they were lengthy and curved down his shoulder blade. No infection had set in yet but any healer knew it was coming - coyotes weren’t known for being clean and healthy, Leila though, hopefully she knew just how to handle this situation. As per the doctor’s orders, he sat beneath the tree’s coverings and conserved himself in the dusk light.
Green eyes moved off to the horizon, the distant creek was running gently through the curves and occasional rapids, a log was fallen into the creek and jammed against a rock to create a gentle pocket of the current where a beautiful tan colored doe stood with her speckled fawn, they drank heartily. Redmoon eyed them curiously, he did not hunger and so they were safe this coming night, but he knew by his nose that he was upwind of them - surely they could smell a nearby predator, yet they remained confident in their stance. Fidgety of course, but they did not find the desire to find flight. Redmoon had recognized this sight before and he instantly knew a buck was very near to protect its doe and fawn. It was also a display that he knew came from the packless scent he gave off.
For well over a year he’d traveled alone and he rarely marked territory for he learned it only gave off his position. The deer knew he was alone and that this wasn’t his hunting grounds. Thus they feared him little and considered his station no more a threat than a rat. He didn’t mind, he wasn’t here to make his name known or his presence fearful. He was content. Naturally though, alone he couldn’t take down a doe or buck without some cunning - but he also knew that other smaller prey would be easier with less risk involved. Surely, the deer had nothing to fear from Redmoon.
Suddenly a new scent was added to his and the doe and fawn looked up from their dusk lit sip of cool water. Ears perked in his direction and he simply observed them in this moment as they took stock in this new scent and soon enough they were gone into the bramble setting. Seconds later a gorgeous buck strutted out, his rack was immense and grey ran his chest with whites to show his age and strength, crossed the creek and snorted at the wolf pair before making off with his kin. The sound of a frosty angel filled his ears and they snapped to attention, her mere presence added to his own had told the deer that he was actually not alone and the addition made his threat level rise enough that fear took hold and caution pushed them away. He recalled how he and Anubis had taken down a mule deer somewhere deep in the Bracken Woods. His mind drifted to something he denied - there was strength in the pack.
His interest level with the ideal of being one of a pack was quite low. Things were easy out here on his own. Sure he went hungry most of the time, any simple wound could make him go lame and kill him, shelter was scarce - but he was the master of his life - a vagabond and a king in the same sense of the meaning. Nothing to fear save for the fears he allowed. Her scent was caught through his coppery filled nose and he couldn’t help but listen as she spoke softly to him. Her voice was a medicine in itself and it calmed his rambling thoughts and his rough hewn heart of granite. Her concern ran as gentle as the creek, though as he looked downstream the rapids intensified, he saw himself there. As coarse as the stone’s surface but tempered by the stream’s caress. A direct reflection to what was going on here as she warned him of the stinging sensations to come.
Instantly he tried to think of something manly to quip, something light hearted to ease the tension and worry in her, but all he came back with was - “Let’s have it then.” He sat up straight and positioned himself tall and broad as a statue. His determined stare concentrated on the task at hand and he froze like solid iron - only to be shattered when she next made a request, her voice near trembling with true concern.
But what was he going to talk about? He certainly didn’t have an interesting life - living from day to day, scrounging up whatever he could find and hoping it didn’t rain in the afternoons while digging thorns from his weary pads thanks to this accursed wood he found himself in. But before he knew it, he was humming a tune of words through his rough and youthful voice. He went back and recalled a time where he was happiest, a time before the Caller had found the names of all his kin. “Have you ever heard of the Scorekeeper?” He swallowed uncomfortably as he continued while looking up at the darkening sky above, “up there, watches the Scorekeeper. He’s no god that I know of, I don’t even know if he’s a he. But the things we do in this life are taken and tallied under the Scorekeeper’s watch. Every action, valorous or cowardly - all are taken into account. He may taken a tally or give one. In the end, when the Caller knows our names in death, we will go to see the Scorekeeper and he will give us our tally. The worthy among us will reap a life of harvest and we’ll travel out here in the wilderness alone no more.” He paused, “Blackbriar was his name, the hunter who taught me to survive. As a pup he’d take me out for days at a time when the moon was right and we’d drift as far from pack lands as we could - or as far as my little legs could go. Distance soon became a span of time alone, we traveled and moved as far as the crow could fly. Over the southern mountains and into grassy plains as far as the eye could see. He taught me to live out there in the wilderness, how to hunt and dig a hole to lien against the wind and rain. I was taught that if you want to survive - you don’t have to be the strongest or the fastest or even the smartest - you just have to stand up tall, square your shoulders and believe in yourself.” His ears flinched backwards as she worked, the sting catching him off guard though he regained his composure and kept talking. “I’ve been standing tall ever since and this, here is a place I’ve been too more times than not. I won’t give up on those wolf pups, not for the Scorekeeper, not this time. This time it’s for me.” Raw and righteous fire filled his eyes, Redmoon was quite serious and he’d see it done one way or another.
He paused, glanced over his shoulder at her and grimaced with a slight smile that had many sorrowful nights on it. Taking her in as the dusk lit scene began to settle, the moon was out and bright while a light, late shower began to spring up and as it shattered against the canopy of the fir tree it showered them in a glistening mist.
“Thank you.” He offered quietly.
Time began to spend its way here but Redmoon realized that this was something he’d not ever really had, a companionship. However temporary it may be. She probably had a family or a pack to call home - once this was over she’d leave and go back, he would still be here ‘neath the tree tops. He didn’t like the prospect of a pack life, but inside he didn’t want to lose his chance here. He watched as the flakes of blood dripped from her coat to start revealing the crystalline perfection once more, it inspired him to know more - since night had fallen and the rains would make traveling four hours back the way they’d come quite inadvisable - or so his instincts told him so.
“What has brought you all the way out here?” He asked sincerely. He figured it was quite obvious what he was doing - finding the next day’s light and little else.