Northstar Vale will the real slim shady please stand up

The boy returned with nothing but pride on his back. How long had it been since Saltwinter had vanished, since Peregrine had been brutally murdered, since his Mother, his Father and his brother died not so mysterious deaths involving cannibalism? Stoic — now Jackrabbit — did not care. From his depart from the Teekon did a band of loners find him, contemplate using his skin as a rug, and proceed to take him into their conclave where he would learn over the course of a few weeks exactly what humility was, which he would then proceed to forget upon his escape. Despite all that had occurred within the Teekon Wilds, and how he seemed to (literally) curse every pack he went to, with a band of strangers on his (literal) heels, a place where he knew he could at least find allies that would maybe be willing to take him back under their wing. It was only a few short weeks until the boy would, by technicality, become a man and be put to better use than a thrall like he had so been subjected to among the Wildlings. Oh yes, the boy had learned his place alright, but entry unto the place he had self-proclaimly called his kingdom shed any sign that the boy had learned respect while he had been away. The Teekon was his home, and now that he had returned, someone was bound to take pity to his sob story of a life, he found as he had so commonly experienced, and give him a place in which to hide from Them no matter his true distaste for the bore and annoyance that was Pack Life.

Stalking haughtily straight through pack lands, the boy sought trouble, however, none seemed to follow as he profusely rubbed his scent on all that he could find as he passed the assumed borders. If he could simply shout, I'm here, come kick my ass! He would. However, to carry out his act, he could not simply call attention to himself like that. It had to be done correctly. Glancing around the surrounding area, he delved deeper into a territory he knew very well was claimed, pissing on everything every five steps. Perhaps this time he would be a confused, directionally uncalibrated orphan with Spontanteous Bowl Disorder. That'll work. 

Thus far, Duskvale's tolerance had been treated with all due respect, for which the lead bitch was grateful. In spite of this, Saena was no less prepared for the eventual possibility that someone without a shred of sense in their head would ruin it. She hadn't expected it to be so soon, but she shouldn't have been surprised, either. In her time leading packs in the wilds, she'd met no shortage of those who didn't know the meaning of respect or self-preservation. When the pungent scent of unfamiliar piss hit her nose, she was brought back to the time someone had marched right into her maple forest and tried to challenge her, and she was on her feet and running in an instant. She was not the most qualified, being that she still wasn't fully healed, but she was the lead bitch, and she would lead the charge, damnit.

It wasn't a very far run to the intruder. Jackrabbit was right in the heart of the pack's current stomping grounds, only about a quarter mile from where they were feasting on a recent kill. Surely some pack mates had also risen from the site and were in pursuit of their leading female, but Saena was first on the scene. With a deep snarl that warned of her violent intentions and advised running away, the first wolf ducked her head low, kicked her heels into the ground, and went right for Jackrabbit's foreleg at her max velocity, swift and sure as an arrow.

I'm just assuming their first thread ended well, but let me know if other wise!

 

Perhaps trespassing wasn't exactly a good idea, rather, it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Little had he known about the wolves that rested in the place he now found himself plummeted, other than he had witnessed more than once loner's passing through the forest like he as he came and went, assuming the wolves inside were either daft or waaaay too friendly. Apparently the latter was simply an improbable guess as a not-so-friendly snarl rose up behind him. Fully prepared to wiggle himself out of the situation he had landed himself in, drawing the conclusion that the wolves he had fleetingly seen enter the territory must have been doing something other than he — something right — or simply, these wolves were very, very picky on who they let enter their territory. However, as he turned to meet the gaze of the next wolf that would end up pitiing him after a few words of his unfortunate backstory, his face no sooner fell.

“Oh hel — Saena?” He managed to gasp in (actual) horror before his head his the floor, tripping over his own shock, the woman’s lunge and his general awkward long legs. Perhaps if he had know that this was her pack, he never would have dared to enter. Saena, as he had encountered was a very, rather scary woman to anger and even to say a few words in her direction that could be taken the wrong way was a death sentence. “Wait!” He yelped as a jabbing pain in his foreleg arose from where she had hit. Jackrabbit could not afford to be injured over winter; it wasn’t exactly his fault that she just happened to live exactly where he was trying to play his act. “Hold on dammit, i’msorry!” The kid screeched from underneath the other, scrambling to pick himself but clearly failing humorously at it. Saena would kill him, he knew, if he stuck around longer than he was welcome.

Zephyr had been dozing lightly on the edge of the group, tired and achey from his short trip outside the Vale and therefore hadn't picked up on the thick marks of an intruder. When Saena's feet pummeled the earth past him, his apple eyes were snapping open and before he knew it his ankle throbed in white-hot pain as he followed his First. Shaking of the haze of sleep, Zephyr stumbled once, grunting softly but only slowing when the pale alpha lunged -- it was but a boy in their lands, and the ebony brute didn't see him as a big of a threat against more than one of their wolves. Nonetheless it was the mumbled name of his First that kept him from jumping in when the boy didn't leave, but he hulked close, lips curled over his fangs and awaiting a command from his first, circling the boy with hackles raised and a gutteral snarl falling from his jaws.

The rest of the pack was near now, but they hung back. Whether it was because they felt the situation was handled or because her name from the boy's lips came unexpected, the first female didn't know. She recognized Jackrabbit, yes, but any connection between them was snapped the moment he laid the scent of his urine over Duskvale's soil. She was deaf to his apology as she struck at him, signaling with a snarl that Jackrabbit's only option was to clam it and run for his life if he didn't plan on losing it.

She struck several sharp snaps, so incensed that she couldn't really tell if her jaws closed on fur, flesh, or empty air. She left enough space under her for Jackrabbit to twist and stand and flee—after all, she didn't relish the thought of another wolf's body rotting in her territory in the slightest—but there was no mercy or restraint as she went for the side of his face, intent on driving home the point that Duskvale was absolutely the wrong pack to fuck with.

She was so focused on Jackrabbit that she hardly noticed Zephyr, but her hateful attitude toward the juvenile could only mean that the pack would hunt him through their valley until he got the point if he did escape her grasp here, and she was grateful for his service as a bulwark. She felt confident that even if Jackrabbit got away from her now, Zephyr would be on his heels much faster than she would and would ensure his swift departure from the vale.

He could not be angry with the boy; Dagfinn did not know him, had never been wronged by him except for the perceived rudeness that'd set Saena's teeth against him. Still, he was aggressive on Saena's behalf, snarling lustily as she bore down upon the boy and ready to take up the trading of blows should the other attempt an attack on his mother Saena. The dark male added his own nips and grievances where he thought they might be helpful, but for the most part, he allowed the first female to bully the other away.

When it was time, he would indeed give chase, but for the moment, he thought that more than one wolf bearing down on the young male was overkill - Saena was scary enough to warn him away.

[table width=85%][tr][td]
He followed behind the flow of the others, swift in his charge, and did not slow even as he caught up to Dagfinn. The sounds of the child shrieking just beyond Saena's snapping teeth sent an odd feeling through him; he smelled blood. That might have been a sensory flashback, but it was enough to invite Tryphon's basic nature to overwhelm him. He shot around the others, wove between them until the bulk of Duskvale was a crescent around the scene. The second pivoted his position to try and cut off the intruders escape - his face a distorted scowl of teeth.[/tr][/td][/table]

Warbone had been chest-deep in the pack's kill, and slow to realize that his members were trickling away to the scent of a perceived threat. The stained wolf began to follow stiffly, unable to catch the scent of fresh urine at first. The gore slogged him, making him slow to arrive and pause before reacting. His eye lit up with fury as he was finally able to transfer his bloodlust onto the intruder, and even if the young male had managed to appease to Saena, he would not have survived an introduction to the Solothurn.

He flared up, every hair on his body rising like flames as he galloped forward, careening past the stagnated Dagfinn with a snarl and the stiffest flag of his tail. Overkill did not exist to the first male, and if Jackrabbit did not flee from Saena, then he would be descended upon heavily by a force that was not unlike a ton of bricks.

indra cameo, feel free to PP her in any way. do not count me in the PO if one is established!

the red child had been accompanying warbone (and patiently waiting for him to eat his fill before she dared approach) when she saw him lift his bloodied snout from his kill and pause. indra's ears were not so trained as his, but she could hear her mother slightly -- mutely she followed the hulking male as quick as her little limbs could take her.

they were not too far, but indra was winded by the time she arrived. warbone had swiftly outpaced her, and she had tracked his pawprints there. she saw dagfinn, zephyr and tryphon were already involved: at the center of the scuffle was the fierce form of her mother and a wolf she did not know.

in a way, indra's heart burst with pride that it was her mother that could be so intimidating and fierce -- and while the child made no physical attempt to attack jackrabbit, she was there as both a barricade and arsenal; a tool to be directed towards him if commanded.

last post from me, unless needed to be brought back! feel free to pp any injuries or stuff like that. thanks for the thread guys <3

 

It had become very clear, very fast that he had to get the hell outta compton. While he did not mind so much for the scrapes and bruises on the way, he very much valued his head. In the mere moments that he had got to understand Saena, he realised well enough that she would not let him depart freely, nor would she let him leave unscathed. If he was to live at full capacity, his only chance to do so existed in that moment, and so fleetingly. From underneath the hoard of teeth and claw, he clambered up and broke from the crowd with as much grace as an elephant. Upon finding his footing, he broke at a run. Pain in his shoulder from the fall and the pungent sting of multiple cuts and scrapes that would morph into scars slowed him down, but he pushed harder. Jackrabbit would live to torment another day, unfortunately, and he managed to muster a grin as he passed the assumed borderlines; a trail of angry wolves not at all far behind him.