Great Bear Wilderness Precious and Fragile Things - Printable Version +- Wolf RPG (https://wolf-rpg.com) +-- Forum: In Character: Roleplaying (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=5) +--- Forum: Archives (https://wolf-rpg.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11) +--- Thread: Great Bear Wilderness Precious and Fragile Things (/showthread.php?tid=444) |
Precious and Fragile Things - Dovev - September 17, 2013 Every motion the canid took across the landscape was one of fluidness and sinuosity, where his limber legs would stretch his joints loosely. Dovev had set out on his explorations once more in a bound, crossing miles at this breathtaking space. He had traversed over ridges and dips in the land, but always stayed in open space. Dovev found that he reveled in the ability to sense anything more clearly when his surroundings were not punctuated by trees. Confidence surged as the icy beast's frame plunged down a stream embankment and into a tributary. Water splashed like a cool wind against his white chest and pillars. The brook was wide but shallow, and only his ankles were submerged. Freedom pushed adrenalin through the brute's veins, and he felt the eagerness that comes with adventure. Although Dovev had only left Kaibab and Blossom Forest because of being disposed, the large brute was always looking for his next victims. And every movement he had taken was all part of a greater plan. Soon, very soon, the male would have someone under his vices. Dovev had once been described as overbearing but a powerful, and decisive alpha. His replacement in his former pack had only been when Dovev had been weakened by a skirmish with his foolish and now dead sibling, Brenan. Oh, foolish indeed. The very memory brought a smirking growl to his lips. Crossing the water, Dovev found his legs being dried by swaths of grass as he slowed his gait to one of a rambling trot. The titan's spine was straight down to his aloft tail, which floated behind him and swung with a hint of jauntiness. With an upward muzzle, the brute began to filter the important discrepancies toward in the air. Slowing to a halt, the male had picked up some rather.. curious perfumes. His maw brushed the earth and grass at his toe nails. There, he could detect the scent gland markings of others. To his left was the beginnings of a mountain, and there was traffic along this game trail. Used by wolves, it seemed plenty of them had turned up here and into the pine forests and ridges clinging to Silvertip Mountain. Farther ahead, he could detect a pack boundary up on a plateau, but it seemed someone had claimed this much closer landmark. With a flicker of interest, Dovev began to walk down the beaten grass path that wound to the base of the mountain. It was a slow and cautious gait, although his banner had been lifted above his back. The tip of his tail pointed hellwards, a sign of his careful but bold moves towards the prevailing smell upon the cliffs. RE: Precious and Fragile Things - Gramps - September 17, 2013 A lone wolf had no pack, and thus, occupied their time elsewhere. Mostly wandering from place to place, scavenging what leftovers there were to find. The situation was no different for Gramps, and he trotted a slow, steady, yet sure pace, confident the exercise was vital for his continued health. Of course, his demeanor was a direct threat to it, but he was old and set in his ways. Old men didn't change, they just got crankier. And so it was when Gramps spotted another wolf on the horizon, he forgot to smell, and trotted forwards for a better look. Through eyes clustered with dried eye-fluids, sleepers, as some called them, he could see it closer here. He shuddered with the horror of what he saw. "Old hag!", he shouted out at Dovev. "Ugly old fart!", he continued his tirade of insults. "Ugly, ugly, ugly! How could anyone look as disgusting as you! You ought to dig yourself a hole. So that you can roll over and die in it. Ain't no one want to get near ugly as bad as you! You so ugly, you contagious! ", his grammar declined, but he didn't care. It was the quality of insults that mattered. Two points if he could make the stranger cry. RE: Precious and Fragile Things - Tonravik - September 17, 2013 If the other had kept quiet, perhaps Dovev would have been the outlet to her aggression. Both of them were close, too close; but one was moving closer, vocal, loud. From here, she could not smell how old the other being was; but if she could, it would have changed nothing.
Tonravik hears the slew of insults, but doesn't truly hear them. This is the second wolf who thought it wise to lurk too close. She howls, warning her wolves to stay alert, to lurk. It is then she charges into the fray, toward the older of the two, to silence him. When she notes Dovev, she snaps in his direction; she would sooner be on his tail if he drew any closer to her borders and forget this senile, vocal man. She stretches outward, feeling as though she were in flight, and prepares to attempt to grab the man by his left shoulder, throwing her ample weight toward him so that he might fall or stumble backward should she hit. Too close for comfort. Her eyes narrow to protect themselves, chin dipping to cover her throat. RE: Precious and Fragile Things - Dovev - September 17, 2013 His orbs had been glued to the grassy foothills of the mountain when his audits spun around, and Dovev's skull snapped over his shoulder. An intense stare had radiated from his pale gray eyes as the old silver brute drew near, his maw bubbling raw language. What had driven this elder to provoke Dovev was unknown; but he had yet to find out the repercussions of his insults were. The silent white titan stood still, his receptors erect on the peak of his forehead. Slowly Dovev began to pivot his body his tendons toward the elderly creature, gazing icily over the fringes of the grass. He was silent but excitement leapt in his bones, pushing Dovev to react. As soon as his aggressor shut his trap did the ivory canine spring into action, his whole body thrown forward into a lunging sprint. Dovev powered straight across the empty void between them, his jaws shut but hackles raised, his banner an aggressive curl behind his haunches. Almost when the brute had reached a closer, more intimate space with his foe did a jet-black streak appear in his periphery. Undeterred, but slowing his momentum, Dovev applauded his gaze on the vicious strike the fae had reached out with. Fueled by the unspoken challenge, the male leapt alongside the onyx stranger, only then parting his snares. Frontal daggers flashed and the male was in no forgiving mood. Dovev slowed his momentum, his toes splayed across the earth as he threw his speed into the powerful punch he was preparing, a growl rumbling loudly in his throat. With fur spiking alongside his scapulars, Dovev lunged at the elderly creature's jugular, aiming to aggressively push him down, or turn tail and flee. RE: Precious and Fragile Things - Gramps - September 18, 2013 The white wolf to whom he threw insults turned to charge at him. And a second wolf appeared, black. Only now did he sniff, and neither bore pack scents. Both were wilderness wolves, allied, without territory, and alone. He didn't know what caused both to be up in arms, didn't have time to ponder it, and wasn't in his nature to care. The black wolf came first, charging and leaping at his shoulder. He was McKinzie Valley. He was obese. No wolf could boast more weight than he. He merely braced himself as she flung herself at him, a brick wall. He tried to heft himself over the female and from there, attempted what any horny man might do: forced mating. He was a man. She was not. He did not live this long to have a little fight get in the way of reproduction. Breeding season or not bore no influence on his decisions, as he wasn't in for a family. When the white wolf came charging, he merely used his weight to try to move the black wolf into the lunge as a meat-shield, more or less hiding behind and above her. Two versus one wasn't fair. The world wasn't fair. So why should he be? They wanted to play dirty; he'd play dirtier. Whatever had crawled up the black wolf's but to make her attack could just go crawl into a corner and die. And whatever found its way up the white's could similarly fade into oblivion. The white probably attacked because he called it ugly. So what if the white had some balls. What did he care? RE: Precious and Fragile Things - Tonravik - September 18, 2013 Evidently, physics did not exist to this wolf, and his sense of smell was nonexistent. For her borders by now were unquestionably there; not a simple straight line, but all around them. Tonravik was a woman who gained her proportions from Mackenzie Valley Wolves, and Northern Rocky Mountain wolves as well. Her height and weight were great, for a female and for a wolf alike. If it was not her size that would move him, surely it would be the momentum she brought with her from her galloping descent; for he was not a true wall, and not immovable on those legs. She slammed into him, certain that she would bruise from this; but he did not move, except to try and crawl atop her.
As he lifted himself up, Tonravik kept her front to him; it would not make sense for him to be anywhere near her rear as she had attacked him from the front. Her jaws met flesh for but a moment (assuming her attack hit given it was not mentioned at all), but she saw a far better opportunity as he presented his throat to her as though inviting her to take a bite. Tonravik spreads her weight evenly as her height and his proximity enables her to attempt to reach for the bottom portion of his throat, unprotected and free for the taking. Her fangs ache to dig in. As he pushes his weight, Tonravik pushes back with just as much force, knowing he only had his two hind-legs for balance. If he could stumble, and if Dovev could reach for one of those hind-legs, surely he could crush one of the two between his jaws. Or, the man could run and escape his inevitable fate. Tonravik would kill him if she was given the true chance to, which—given his throat being so close—was becoming more of a possibility by the second. His weight is leaning against her own, and she supports him, only to attempt to tear into that throat. Her own lobes, which had been thrust forward in a show of aggression, cupped against her head to protect themselves; and her eyes, too, remained narrowed as she moves. RE: Precious and Fragile Things - Dovev - September 18, 2013 A soft cushion of air snapped into place in Dovev's jaws as his bite met nothing. There had been a twist in motion between the elderly and apparent perverted wolf as he tackled the black fae, rearing up on hind paws. It was easy then for her to sneak under and try to clasp her daggers into the tender flesh of his neck. But Dovev did not halt his assault; and a look of fury flooded his icy blue pools. The blatent disregard the opposing male was showing, and the odd, disgusting behavior was enough to tip Dovev's unstable temper to the limit. The white creature spun himself forward, propelling the force of his frame by springing off the earth, jaws parted. With a leap, the wolf pounced over the back of Tonravik. He had no intentions of letting this oldie escape without severe consequences. And perhaps, by the disrespect the silvered brute had disclosed, Dovev and/or the dark stranger might just put him out of his sorry existence. The jump had landed Dovev parallel to the older male, enough to give him leverage in several areas. The snowy canine swiftly aimed to maneuver his teeth in a lashing manner across his elder's muzzle, their intent to cause searing, bloody, and awful ridges across the bridge and maw. Even as Dovev's frame shifted, he was given indefinite opportunities. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the pitiful sticks that passed as walkers for the older wolf. With a step back, Dovev's neck swung down in an arc, his head tilted sideways with teeth bared. They were going straight for the knee joint on his hind leg. RE: Precious and Fragile Things - Gramps - September 19, 2013 Gramps ignored Dovev. Since his rape of Tonravik was assumed to be successful as it wasn't mentioned, he finished raping her. And then he lunged at her throat and tore it out. Tonravik was dead. Ignoring Dovev still, he wandered away. The end. RE: Precious and Fragile Things - WOLF - September 20, 2013 This thread will be closed until the game has established fighting guidelines. More info is here: http://wolf-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=463&pid=3264#pid3264 RE: Precious and Fragile Things - WOLF - September 22, 2013 It has been decided that this thread will be moved to the "Dead Threads" forum and that the events contained within it did not occur in character. The players involved may choose to restart the thread and try again, this time with Wolf's new guidelines for in character fights in mind. |