Blacktail Deer Plateau disasterpiece

@Croft >: )

mercenaries rarely slept and V was hardly an exception, less exhaustion cling heavy in his bones. difficult to let his guard down, even harder to let sleep take him. but as the sun sets and the night creeps in, the need is visceral. encompassing. 

he tucks himself against a boulder, his back secured against the stone, offering some semblance of security. for hours he lay there, tired eyes scanning the horizon. watching, waiting for threats that never come. 

sleep claims him with the droop of heavy eyelids. a yawn, a stretch. only when he's comfortable and sprawled out does he let himself drift off.

the ghost drifts.
from one land to the next. and in this one, he’s found himself no short of toys to entertain him.
but it is one that catches his eye the most. curled up against a rock, brown pelt a smear; sides lifting. still alive.
a smug look is fixed on the ghost’s face for a moment—and he swaggers up, fangs protruding beneath a dark lip. stopping above the ratty body, and planting a swat to the gut with a thick paw.
a grizzled exhale:
wake the fuck up, samurai.

dreams were far and few. hardly did they bless his sleep; instead, he was plagued with nightmares. flashes of old faces that would taunt him, voices of the past. the many he's slain and the many that have pleaded for mercy he would never grant. 

and so his rest is fitful, disturbed. low rumbles and murmurs leave the sleeping man in bursts. brows furrowed, lip peeling back to reveal glimpses of stained teeth. 

wake the fuck up, samurai. the deep voice is so close. so surreal. V stirs for a moment; dancing on the edge of rest, until instinct rouses him. eyes of wild hazel snap open to leer at the ghost. hot breath washing across his brow. 

"what the fuck—" he snarls. V scrambles to his feet, the hairs along his back standing straight. sides heaving, whale-eyed as he crashes against the man, half-anticipating to rush right through him. as if he was a real specter. 

but their shoulders collide and they topple. the merc snaps his jaws, teeth just inches away from the man's throat. "who the fuck are you!" he demands. angry, disgruntled.

he laughs. a deep, gravel-throated sound that don’t belong in a dream and sure as shit don’t belong in the living world either.
wolven shoulders hit. the ground grunts. croft’s chin tilts up, eyes glinting with half-dead fire.
easy, tiger. i ain’t here to kill you. yet.
he doesn’t flinch at the teeth. just lifts a paw, dust-streaked, and shoves the merc off. he’s more nuisance than threat.
you sleep like someone waitin’ to die. ‘cept you ain’t dead. not yet.
his tongue runs lazy across his teeth.
name’s croft.

eyes are molten with molten steel and ire. lips curled, muscles tense, and all he receives is a fucking shove. no bite, no fight. it's as disappointing as it is enraging. "kill me?" v scoffs. he smiles, but it's pointed and all teeth. 

"gonna have to get in line. ain't the first time i've heard that." he's itching for a scuffle; a clash of fang, a battle of wit. annoyance seeps beneath his skin when he doesn't get more than a rough laugh. 

"caught me at a bad time, is all." he rasps. this is precisely why he deprives himself of sleep. "name's v. ain't a fuckin' samurai, either. merc through and through, no fancy sword."

croft huffs, a noise like gravel kicked loose. fuck, kid. you talk too much.
he rolls onto his side, lazy as death. doesn’t even lift his head, just glances at v through half-lidded eyes, like he’s already figured the bastard out.
merc, huh. you got the stink of it.
a pause, then a grin—dry, crooked, wolfish. relax, v. no sword here either. just teeth.
his voice drops to something darker, hungrier. and i’ve still got all mine. what about you? a breath exhaled, as if he’d just taken a long draw off a cigarette.

"kid?" he drawls with a sneer. tongue rasping along his lips as a taunt. "gotta lotta nerve, showin' up like you're hot shit." V's pride can only take so many blows, so many hits before he does something stupid. 

muscles coil beneath his messy fur as the man has the balls to lounge around as if he owns the place. his patience is wearing thin, his temper even thinner. 

"y'wanna find out?" V sneers. he doesn't have the fucking time for these games, and if Croft wants him to show his chrome, he's more than willing. "big talk for a small man."

he yawns. tongue rolling against teeth, that click in boredom.
small man.
a quirk of his brow, a grunt. he stands then, he towers. broad-shouldered, blood and tine. clearing his throat, lips parting to speak low now. he’s amused.
you ever seen a mountain before it falls? looks small from far away. till it crushes you.
he steps closer. leaning over him, teeth sneering now, exhaling carrion breath. you wanna dance, v?

anticipation oozes through the merc's veins with vengeance. muscle cording tight beneath unkempt, cow-licked fur; this'd better be a fight worthy of his fucking time. V doesn't cower or flinch, though his maw wrinkles in disgust at the scent of death that flows from those jaws. burning eyes of hazel meeting pools of brown, he scoffs. "fuck, old man. you talk too much." he taunts with a sharp-toothed, tight-lipped smile.

he doesn't waste anymore time. tucking his chin against his neck to protect his throat, he rushes forward, slamming his shoulder into the taller' mercenary's throat. hoping it'd knock the wind out of his lungs just long enough for his teeth to sink in and lock. when Croft stumbles, V's jaws part, snapping just short of that blood-stained muzzle. spittle flying, lips pulled into a sneer.

a battle of wits, a battle of mercs.

croft takes the hit like a slab of stone—shoulder cracking into his throat, forcing a guttural grunt from deep in his chest. he stumbles, a stagger.
but his resolve is unbreakable. he laughs as teeth snap just shy of his face, spittle clinging to his cheek like the kiss of rain.
an exhale. there he is.
there comes a hook of thick paw aiming to sweep the bastard's front legs. teeth baring for war. croft lunges with spindly legs to clamp jaws around v’s scruff, to drag him down to the dust-addled ground with him.