my name is death [M]

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Gory violence. Sex.

Spree with me, someone?! For warden or warrior, however you want to play it.

Tonravik fished frequently when she could, craving the tender meat. But oftentimes she left behind the rest of the body, something that was not edible for wolves. Neither was it edible to any other canines; but that did not mean they did not try to make something out of the scraps. Darkness had fallen, and Tonravik blended perfectly with that; an eerie howl summoned any nearby wolves to her. Lurking near the bodies were foxes, beings that Tonravik had been observing for some amount of time. They often made off with the meat before she returned to her hunting grounds, having learned her schedule.

But by some chance of fate, Tonravik had arrived a little earlier.

In truth, it was no chance that brought her here. She guarded the lands that her cubs would soon arrive in... and she wanted to take no chances with the foxes that had taken the meat. Her move was a tactical one; she wanted to weed the predators out of the area while she still could without risking the lives of her cubs. They were all in one place, secure in her womb.

Three of the red animals gripped at the large leftovers. Tonravik had howled to the pack; if any wished to join her, they could.

Their eyes glowed green in the light of the moon, and when one set of eyes fell onto her, Tonravik sprinted toward them. It had little time to alert its companions; the alpha female was swift in killing the lookout, whose yelp died in its throat before the light went out in its eyes. The others fled, in two different directions, and Tonravik went for the healthiest one, quiet as her paws thud against the earth around Tarritut.

He was in the area. For some reason... he never drifted too far. That island in the center of the lake was his solace. The cavern off to that end? His mate's denning site. This lake? As far as he was concerned, it was the center of operations. If ever he wasn't patrolling, he was nearby. Water in the heat of summer was a wonderful thing. No questions about it.

Tonravik had taken a craving for fish heads. It was only a matter of time before the corpses she left scattered along the shore began to attract attention. There'd been a mountain lion in the area. They'd run out a skulk of foxes once this season. If any of those predators remained, no doubt, the fish bodies would lure some creature in.

His mate howled. Foxes again. The rascals were thick as thieves in these parts. He turned, abandoning his drink as he circled the lake's perimeter and dove into action. Tonravik was after one headed that way. Iqniq picked up the other, catching it by the tail as it tried to slip away. Light weight and scrawny, he tossed it in the air, caught it by the neck and shook it until the creature broke beneath his jaws. He dropped the corpse and went for another.

mom and dad

She was soon met by none other than her mate. The leader expected it, truth be told, and was glad for it. At any point, any other wolf could come and intervene... in the backdrop, coyotes observed quietly in the darkness. Anyone headed from their coniferous forest into here would note them before they noted the foxes themselves. The coyotes cleverly waited for more meat to scavenge upon... but when the alpha female, or male, caught wind of them the creatures would not be given the opportunity.

In the trees around them, crows watched quietly as Iqniq sent a fox flying into the air.

The darker leader moved to swipe the foxes legs out from under it that ran from her. It was one step ahead, and she missed... but she gained on it. A broad paw slapped against its rear-end, manipulating its line of movement, causing it to stumble. Tonravik was quick to grab one leg of it, snarling as she tugged it in her direction. 

Bwahaha. Love it. <3

A growl ripped from his muzzle as he tossed himself into the fray. These foxes were nothing to wolves, but to their children? His snarl tore louder as he abandoned the first corpse and took off after another. It was sneaking away now, trying to move into the safety of the forest before he quickly overcame it. His long strides were nothing in comparison to the stubby legs of foxes. Swift as they were, his height played to his advantage as he caught another one by a hind leg and pulled. He pinned the fox's head beneath the weight of his paw, crushing it as he tore off a limb and ended the life of another one.

No doubt, their carnage was attracting crowds of other sorts. He bellowed, tossing a great roar to the air to ward them off before returning to the tangle of those vulpine creatures who'd not yet given up scavenging. With snapping jaws, he chased another down and added to their pile of corpses.

Tonravik was quick to kill the one she pulled toward her, even as it squirmed to get away. It wasn't a clean death, but that was its own fault. The alpha female moved toward her mate as he went to end the last one... and she made a terrible game of it, tugging at it with him. In their movements, they snapped its neck. But it was dead, and so were the rest of them. The alpha female gave in to play, growling and goading him into a game of tug-a-war with the limp body.

Beady eyes watched the macabre scene but kept their distance. The coyotes were a good enough distance from them, downwind and so not yet of note (so if any other were to come upon the scene, they would cause the animals to scatter and for their hunt to resume... otherwise, it would be a hunt for another day). Tonravik let her snarls grow louder as she pushed her weight into the earth, shaking her head left and right, pulling at the pliable skin.

-adds a mature tag to warn of gory content, just in case-

The last was shared between the two of them. Him with his teeth around its head. Her tugging from the other end. Though dead already, now it was sheared in two, as if cut apart by unknown hands while its intestines hung between them, glistening in the moonlight. This was not the tempered endings of a hunt, this was downright savagery. This, he knew as the blood lingered, drizzling across his muzzle as he neared his mate and stole a bloody kiss.

They were not done here, he knew. They'd destroyed this one body, but there were others if they wished to continue this play. Perhaps...

A wicked gleam stole to his eye as he pulled the string of intestines from the corpse they'd shared. Nearing her, he ignored their audience of scavenger eyes as he draped the gore around her neck. A boa of macabre hues.

She was not the easiest wolf upon the eyes, but in this she was absolutely lovely. This was her element. This mirror of shadow with the perfume of blood. In this she was... irresistible.

Still high from the thralls of war he padded towards her, intent within his eyes as he sought to consummate their victory.

Neither of them gave in their tugging of the dead thing. Their strength was great enough that the animal was split in two messy halves, and Tonravik playfully whipped her head left and right, its innards and legs flailing limply, some flying this way and that but others held perfectly intact. She released it, disinterested in it then; her eyes found her mate as he draped what must have been intestines around her. Flecks of blood dotted her face as well as his own, and she leaned into him to hungrily lap at the contents on his muzzle as he padded toward her, reminded of his own bloody kiss. Hers was more of a self-serving action, but her possessiveness and hunger toward him spoke plenty of her devotion.

Tonravik continued to pick at his furs in hungry nips, literally looking for things to eat that had fallen upon him. His drive was different than her own, but she did not rebuke any of his advances, warming to his touch by the minute. Before they could consummate anything, she flopped down onto the macabre scene, marking the blood and bones as her own. After this, she drew nearer to him again, hungrily moving to lick blood and saliva both from her mates chin and lips in an excited fashion. Her boa still hung haphazardly from her, as well as other organs.

The hot splash of blood landed across his muzzle. He licked at it greedily, stealing what he could before she cleaned the rest of it from his face. He brushed past her then, pressing his crimson fur against her shadowed skin as she rustled through is fur for lingering bites of carrion flesh. He nipped at her flanks affectionately as he circled her. He snatched up tufts fur, innards and limbs gathering them around her as she lowered herself to the ground and claimed this carnage as her own.

Then she stepped towards him. His blood soaked queen of grunge and gore. A growl rumbled within him, thick and hungry with unmet need and desire as he drew his tongue across the sanguine splashes of her lips as she ravaged upon his own. He stole away from her kisses and lowered his head, pulling her closer by means of her bloody boa as a deep seeded rumble over took him once more.

He pressed his body against her melding his fur with her own as he circled her and stopped behind her flanks. He nosed her tail, brushing it aside before he drew himself a top her and satisfied his needs with a savagery of his own.

The alpha female reached for him as he drew away, but stilled as she followed his line of movement. Her ears perked and she licked blood away from her own nose, and as he nosed at her tail she willingly complied in moving it aside. The woman was insatiable in most every thing, but had never felt lust out of season; but there was nothing to the alpha female that felt wrong or out of place in their coupling. She steadied herself beneath him, turning to nip him into movement.

And move he did, as deft as he was here as he was on the battlefield. Tonravik was an eager recipient of this savagery, with only one of their many present victories surrounding them. She relished in their success in each movement; he would know it.

He needed no encouragement in this. He took her, unfearing or concerned for the young within her as they were now strong enough to withstand his none-too-gentle affections. Paws clawed at her sides. Teeth tangled within the loose folds of her nape. He ground himself against her hips and when they reached their paramount he fell over that finite edge with her.

He lingered. The weight of him upon her own as he released his grip of teeth upon her fur and took to grooming the drying blood beneath her necklace of decay. He relished in this, this closeness. He'd not had enough of it lately and so he groomed, eventually easing from her form to share in the secrets lost to the shadows of her silks.

Their dance was none too gentle; but she embraced it, and even their closeness. 

She panted as he lingered atop her, and when he removed himself from her the alpha female decided she would rest here, beneath the open sky and surrounded by blood and gore. Tonravik loosed a tired yawn. Any and all aggression was spent upon the foxes. She drew to his side and reached for an ear, wanting to invite him down to sleep with her. 

He untangled himself. All four paws back on the ground, he nudged her gently as she released a tired yawn. Mm. Perhaps it was best to end the night like this; in their victory and surrounded by trophies of their wild hunt. Who needed a den when there was all of this supreme carnage illuminated by moonlight?

She pulled at his ear and he pressed his body against her own. Yes. Sleep. He could think of nothing else he'd rather do in this moment than curl up beside his mate. He settled next to her and when the heat became too much to bear, he shifted to allow the air to sift between their blood caked forms. Nearness. This he was content with. Very much so.