Duskfire Glacier [Quest] through fangorn forest

Anyone trying to complete the Quest involving cats, feel free to post!

The kittens were two months old now, or a little older, he wasn't sure anymore. But they were active, and that activity would make them targets for the hungry wolves. Hassun had tried to tell Rayen that her cubs would be safer elsewhere - that she could abandon her territory and live with Donoma - but that went against the natural order of things. The scorn Hassun received from both queens when the wolves invaded was nothing compared to the insult he had apparently cast upon them both, simply by making the suggestion. So he was out and about again; this time, in the eastern portion of the land which smelled so strongly of wolves. The forest was thinner here, which posed a problem, but the large lynx wasn't concerned too much; the wolves barely investigated this far east, and tended to keep to the western edge, presumably because that was where they encountered loners. He stalked between the trees with a disgruntled expression upon his face, but otherwise being absolutely careless.

The transition to pack life proved more of a burden every passing day. It was not the duties that wore him down: Malachi felt glad to be of use again, and more than thankful for the home Tuwawi had offered him here with the Duskfire wolves. But that was just it - he couldn't look at the fireborn's family without remembering all he had left behind in the Vale: his parents and young siblings, who had been around the age of Tuwawi's own children when he had fled from the land, a dark memory he tried hard to repress.

He'd set out that day in the direction opposite his regular route, heading now for the Eastern lands which often garnered less attention than the West. He hadn't explored these parts much himself, and used his ignorance as a way of convincing himself to fix his mind solely on his surroundings, strategically forcing his mind from the painful thoughts that stung him. Gradually he found his memories of land which lay miles away recede to the back of his mind, yet with his increasing awareness of his present situation came also a sensation that he was not alone. He stopped and cupped his ears. The forest sounds surrounded him, but he heard an unnatural rhythm to the snapping twigs and crunching leaves. Lowering his body, he drank in the scent of the forest again. Trees and flowers met him, the scent of his packmates, too. But there was something different here, something dangerous and fresh. The pungent scent of lynx lingered in his nostrils and he felt bile rise in his throat. Swallowing hard, he rooted his paws in place and honed every sense on the forested land around him, silently cursing himself for travelling the land alone.

Some portions of this land were familiar to him. A few still held the dying aroma of his brother's musk, patches of reed-dry fur, and the like. It was like he was being mocked by the dead tomcat - taunted, even though Hassun had nothing to do with his brother's death. It hadn't been his fault that wolves had come traipsing in that time, just as it wasn't his fault this time. But he'd fix it. For the sake of his wives, their children, and... Well, his own sanity.

But thinking this wasn't enough for Hassun. He could prowl through the trees for hours on end without intercepting one of the mutts, and when he had encountered them, they moved together. Always together. It was the fundamental difference between the wolf and the lynx - the collective versus the individualist.

Hassun's trail comes to a sudden halt when the wind changes. Like the wolf, he is instantly alert. His head up, eyes wide and expressive in their search, but Hassun is improperly positioned - he sees nothing, being taunted by the smell of wolf now instead of the taste of his own loss. He doesn't want to wait and be set upon this time - his pride cannot take another stalemate - and so the cat looses a frustrated yowl, a challenging sound, with the firm understanding that the wolf will hear it and come running.

He rooted his paws in place and searched the land with wide eyes and forward ears. He stole a subconscious glance behind him before scanning the tree line again. The wind shifted and carried the scent of lynx away with it, and Malachi sunk closer to the ground. A sharp yowl sliced the air and the greyscale felt his ears twitch back. He locked his eyes in the direction of the sound and strained to differentiate between the trees and the leaves and the creature he knew roamed not far from where he crouched.

He finally caught sight of the lynx's earthen fur and curled his lip at the sight. Though the moment favoured his position, he felt the sudden urge to bludgeon his way through the trees until he could feel the beast's flesh between his teeth. But he resisted, knowing better than to let hatred guide him again. His gaze darkened and he glanced behind him again, feeling a tremor course his spine.

That the cat had given its position away so readily confused Malachi, but he would not lose the advantage of his position so easily. He began to creep his way toward the lynx in an irregular path, keeping his paw steps soft and moving himself in favour with the shifting wind, sticking nearer the trees that favoured his fur and using his svelter frame to his advantage as he moved his way through the clusters of forest where the shrubbery cast the thickest shadows. His objective now would be to shorten the ground between himself and the lynx without risking his position, and he figured the only way to do that was to tease the lynx with the cat's own game as best a wolf could do.

For a few tense moments, Hassun wonders if he had heard anything at all - smelled anything. There is a distinctive aroma to the land that he loathes, but it is so pervasive now that he could've mistakenly believed a wolf was nearby... But he refuses to doubt for long. A second yowl carries between the trees, and he tells himself that at least one wolf would've heard it. They would come running, bashing their way through the forest, and he would be ready.

There is no sudden onslaught of noise. He sees neither hide nor hair of any wolf. It frustrates him - and Hassun is hardly aware of the irony in the situation. That the wolf could move among the trees like a lynx was unheard of to the cat. Wolves were big creatures. Big, dumb, slow, and easily manipulated.

But now here he was, being manipulated right back! The yowling dies in his throat and Hassun looks around, concentrating on the immovable trunks around him. He gets to his paws and begins to stalk through the grass and tangled bits of forest, intent on drawing the wolf out.

The lynx lets loose another challenging yowl that lingers on the air. Malachi drops lower and holds his breath as the lynx scans the forest's trunks. He can see the cat's earthy fur through the cluttered leaves, and his heart skips a beat when its wild eyes dart close to the portion of the forest where he lays low.

But the panic fades when the lynx rises to its paws and begins its trek onward. Malachi follows with a fleeting hesitation. He moves as the lynx moves, but feels his concentration interrupted by the conflicting thoughts that now dance through his mind. He is confident he still holds advantage over the cat, but the trees are thinning now. Soon the terrain would stand treeless, and then what? He would be left to face the lynx alone. He knows what a wise wolf would do in his situation: a wise wolf would turn and leave.

But Malachi furrows his brow. He can't bring himself to leave, not when he is so close. He does not notice his slight acceleration or the sloppiness of his few steps that follow as his concentration begins to slip.