Snowforest Taiga nibwaakaawin ikwe

@Qupirruarjuit >: )

the taiga was still as the sun began its fall. an ache that always reared when it would crawl towards the horizon that lingered in kuva's chest. her beloved red sun now put to rest, so that her sister's moon could rise. 

the proficient hunter had already established her own caches. small, as to not draw much attention from thieves and pests, but it was enough. pride would seize her each time a new carcass would join the pile; a feast for her people, should they storm these plains and hunt. 

perched atop a slick outcrop of crag rock, she lay idle, but not with her guard lowered. always watching, searching, waiting. there were heavy footsteps to her flank. head snaps, guard hairs bristle—this was her cache. she would defend it with her life.

lips peel back to reveal stained teeth, ears erect, tail stiff. waiting for the thief to dare approach. the sun may be set, but the blaze of fire still burned hot inside her veins.

the sun shines dying and fierce against her back, illuminating eyes which burn at the prospect of a challenge. she is not so low as to steal from a smaller woman, but this stranger is in her way- and she will move or be moved.

"sanirvailutit." she growls through bared teeth, but makes no move to approach the woman's prize. qupir stands her ground, firm with hackles raised. she will pass.

the mountain woman's nostrils flare, inhaling the scent of both wolf and rabbit. she finds herself impressed by neither. she will settle only for larger meals- moose caribou- to strengthen herself for the children she will raise. the blood of the beasts will make them healthy.

the mountainous woman dares curls her lips, igniting a fury inside kuva's veins. a possessiveness that's primal in nature, the kind that stems from the core. a language spoken that kuva does not understand, but it does not matter. 

she hovers over her cache, lips curling to reveal teeth. a clack as she snaps her jaws, a warning she will give only once. "you leave." she growls, stance squaring. the woman's size did not strike fear within her. it would be a challenge kuva would be overjoyed to overcome. 

tail lashing, the hair along her back rises. she awaits the brute-woman's move.

qupir's season has come, liquid fire in her veins. where once she might have sought to bed this woman she now seeks to fight, to sate the rage broiling in her belly. the strange man will find her soon, but for now she is happy to brawl. she will leave the pathetic cache to this woman when she inevitably loses.

her hackles raise, and she bares her teeth. moves left, past the cache with a warning snap of her jaws. do not follow. but oh, she hopes she does. hopes for the snap of teeth against flesh.

"i pass. you move." her voice is deep, rolling like thunder.

"not want...pathetic meal."

the mountain-woman's scent is thick, heady. it would have been appealing, if the itch for a fight hadn't simmered beneath kuva's skin and inside her veins. she is powerful—and she would make a worthy opponent. 

she moves past the cache and her trophies are safe...but kuva is not satisfied. she will not be until blood is shed. her movement is quick and fluid; a viper ready to strike. slinking away from her mound to pounce. finding her mark as she lands on the woman's broad, strong back. 

jaws parting with a snarl to sink her teeth into scruff, biting down and squeezing with feral animosity. ivory claws sinking into the flesh of the big woman to keep her seated.

qupirruarjuit grins as her opponent lunges with open mouth.

the smaller woman is upon her, fangs sinking into the skin of her scruff. qupir barks a laugh, bucks as she has seen the caribou do, but the stranger's hold is strong. the mountain woman drops to the earth then, on her back, an effort to crush the other beneath her bulk.

and then she is back on her feet, circling, teeth clicking together in challenge. come closer, try again. you will lose.

kuva was perhaps to bold, to driven by the competitiveness that drives her, to quit. too stubborn for her own good. unwilling to bend and break, eager to come out on top. she hadn't been quick enough to leap from the mountainous woman's back; she tried to roll, before that heavy weight came crashing down. it pinned her leg for a moment; jaws parting as a furious snarl escapes her.

she's quick to rise again, ignoring the searing pain now throbbing in her limb. her tail lashes, her eyes bright with feral intensity. she does not back down, even though it might have been wise. instead, she spits and lunges again. this time, aiming for the woman's throat.

the smaller woman lets out a noise, half snarl and half scream, as qupir lands on her. she rolls away, but not fast enough, and for a moment her leg is crushed beneath the weight of the mountain. qupir takes no pleasure in it, pauses to see if the stranger will relent. she is wounded now, after all.

but that fire in her eyes remains, and she lunges for qupir's throat with teeth bared. the matriarch sneers, lowers her head to dodge the blow, and dives with open jaws primed to wrap around the wounded limb.

her blow is dodged with the skill of a true makwa'tek. kuva skids to a halt, ready to rear back and try again with vivacity...only for the mountain woman's teeth to sink into the flesh of her injured limb. it is met with a yelp—shrill and pained. she does not try to tug the limb away from those jaws; it would only cause more damage.

instead, kuva dips her head to enclose her jaws around the woman's skull. her teeth pierce above the woman's brow and just beneath her lower jaw. with a ferocious snarl, she does not relent. pride drives her now. the insatiable urge to win.

a cacophony of snarls. bloodscent fills the air, but the mountain woman does not relent, even as her opponent's ichor stained teeth pierce the flesh of her lower jaw and face. she deepens her grip upon the leg in her mouth, lips peeled. neither can move without grievously injuring themself- or the other. and so qupir waits. for movement, for submission. her teeth do not yet pierce bone, but easily could.

blood streams down her forehead, burns one eye. still she remains steadfast.

it is not often the wild woman submits. even less so for her to swallow her pride. but they are at an impasse and she could not continue her mother's prowess as a makwa'tek nursing a broken, maimed limb. for just a moment her jaws apply more pressure to the woman's skull, eyes of wildfire burning with molten ire. she has to remind herself that even a great warrior must accept defeat when necessary. with a lash of her tail, with a bristle of her guard hairs, she lets go.

tongue curling across her maw to relish the taste of metallic ichor before she's scowling down at the beast. "release me. you have won." native tongue heavy as her lungs burn for air. she will not bow, she will not roll over, but she will accept her loss. and perhaps she'd respect the beast for it.

qupirruarjuit is not a boastful woman, nor has she ever been. thus she does not revel in her victory, simply waits for the smaller woman to release her face and stands with a curt nod. she gives the cache a wide berth as she passes, keeping to her word, and for a time she disappears.

when she returns it is with a mouth full of herbs, head lowered to indicate that she is not a threat. she drops the bundle so she may speak, ears pushed forward.

"for wound." she moves no closer, allowing the wild woman to treat her own wounds if she so pleases.