Hoshor Plains And besides in the mean-meantime I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart

Dreven had heard other voices carrying on the wind. It had perked his tattered ears up and he listened closely. Singular Red Eye fixed on the horizon. He was not unused to battle and blood and murder. He realized perhaps this was the best place for him, if there was a threat. But he didn't know and he didn't like making assumptions. It was too much work.

So with a vigorous shake, he began to move again along the borders. Gigantic paws ripping at the ground as he tore it up. Watering the borders with a lazy lift of leg. Fangs and claws in any brush and trees. Even if they had no threats. People would know they were here. That he was certain of.

I hope you don't mind me picking this up, noticed its been quiet. Still open to others :)

The densite had been quiet, with members popping in and out on brief occasions. It left little for her to occupy herself with.

It left few to supervise her—and her legs had begun to quiver with restlessness. She thought of that fox Cassian had gifted her in the mountains, how she wished to feel that sort of power again. Wolves like her did not often get to flaunt superior strength, after all, and so she'd take every crumb she could get, and then some.

Her frame remained bony and thin, though she'd had the benefit of leeching off of the others kills, she'd not yet gotten to taste the flesh of bison. She wasn't starved, but she surely wasn't satisfied either.

She never could be.

Taking advantage of this lapse, Envy set out onto the prairie once more under the guise of searching for more herbs to add to her building stock. Her intents were far worse this day, she could feel that familiar slow tingle of desire creep down her spine. It flooded her. Threatened to drown her were it not acted on. This savageness tore asunder that part of her which so desperately yearned to be good.

This one was all wrong, and nothing could be done about it. She could only feed herself.

She wanted heal some gnarly, ruinous injury, yet there was none to be mended. So the desire fell onto the next best thing. She wanted to hurt something. Kill something—but she was a rather shitty hunter on her own. Luckily however, she'd glimpsed the scar-torn frame of Dreven wandering betwixt the bushes and trees, tending to their borders. Wasting no time, she scampered on over, her presence announced by the light patter of her pearly mitts.

Hey again She chimes, flicking a black-tipped audit. See any intruders? Get any scrapes? Im dyin' for a good time. She huffs, continuing to idly pace in her usual, squirrely manner.

Not at all welcome

Dreven hadn't had any visitors and he hadn't sought any out. The leader knew he was here. So why did anyone else have ot know who he was or why he was here. Wasn't his problem. He attended to the borders and kept his mouth shut.

Where the young she wolf had been restless. Dreven himself was not. He always found something to do. Whether it was filling caches with smaller prey. Annoying actually when there were bigger better, prey to catch, but eh. Or he was walking the borders like a giant shadow of death.

The she wolf, lithsome and tiny was soon upon him. Red singular eye danced along her frame. She was thin. Looked almost sickly. But that wasn't his problem.

Dreven eyed her. Nope. Nah. Well theres a few ways to fill a good time. He quipped back and continued with what he was doing.

Endlessly walking around borders isn't my idea of fun. She responds with a puff, letting her head reel back and her jaws part to simply gape at the open air. No shortage of dramatics spared for this trivial, trivial problem of hers.

She itched to serve a purpose, some kind of purpose. There is nothing fulfilling about lounging around, or scrubbing the prairie for herbs she didn't need over and over in some futile attempt to gaslight herself into believing she was having fun. She wasn't. And fun was so inredibly, incredibly important to her. She wasn't sure why she sought out Dreven, given that he seemed pretty dedicated to being a walking sentinel of loathing taken form, and in his own words, was waiting to simply keel over and die—but something about his sort was ever so intriguing to her. She wasn't sure what he was punishing himself for, but she knew he was certainly punishing himself. Nobody truly wanted to die, not unless they'd done something. Had something done to them.

Or perhaps she was just naive to the way things worked. She never did pride herself on her ability to psychoanalyze.

Maybe she just wanted a bodyguard, some insurance in case she tackled something she alone couldn't handle, or maybe she just wanted to see where his little quest for death would take him. She stared him right in his marred face, unphased by the gnarled physical elements of him. It was tough to find something she would be phased by. Will you hunt something with me? She posed a request suddenly, crown tilted to the side as she awaited his answer. Her nails flexed against the dirt, anticipatory.

He chuckled darkly. He hadn't meant the borders. His disgusting comment had been just that, disgusting. But it had gone over her head much like the first time.

He looked her over. Most wolves live for the monotony there raincloud.

Take a number and wait. He could tell her all day about the things done to him, the things he did. And by the end of it she would either be so appalled she'd want to end him herself or feel pity. Neither of which he particularly wanted to play around with. Clearly he was not a gentle nor kind beast. The truth literally was ingrained in his hide.


He stared right back. One milky dead eye and one scarlet. Pest or prey.

Oh, I know. What I don't get is how anybody is satsified by that. She says with conviction, a trace of disgust lining the words that fell from her jaws.

Things had to be constantly shifting. Ever-changing. Preferably, for the better, though Envy now was beginning to see her disgrace as a blessing in disguise.

No longer was she subject to the stifling rules and stipulations of her previous home, of their wretched council. For what right did anybody have to parent her when the chance had been lost long, long ago. No longer was she shackled by fools who had no mind for evolution in all its gory facets.

...Prey. She says firmly, scampering over to him. You can save the pests for me to deal with on my own. I want a deer or something.... Really, I want one of those bison calfs, but I think the boss's would be pissed. She huffs, slightly disappointed.

Dreven shrugged a shoulder.Sometimes like it simple. What's the point of always being disappointed or disgruntled. You adhere to simple things. Never disappointed.

His voice hurt and he shifted at the irritation. He didn't think that was ever gonna get better.

He laughed and then winced. You're not wrong and I'm the wrong one to defend you. He chuckled again.

Come on then.

He bent his large head to the task of finding a scent trail.