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It had gotten far colder since he'd ventured away from the mountains. Oddly, it didn't affect him as much as Tryphon would've thought. He was a coastal wolf — or so he'd always thought — yet he'd developed a thick winter coat so as to combat the freezing temperatures. He noticed the shifting in the weather as he moved north, and assumed it was only because he was heading in to the taiga; the sparsely growing pine trees eventually clustered upon a ridge and he took shelter there, but not for long.
He was scouting out the other half of the forest (a little ways down the ridge, but seemed as if it had been privy to some attention of late) when he heard a call bleating in to the wind. It was faint, but after a second of standing and listening, he heard it again — a sorrowful call from an elk, he thought. As Tryphon hadn't been mindful of his meals lately, he knew in that instant that he was very hungry. At the same time (while he found his way through the forest and out to a clearing), he knew that a bull elk was an impossible meal to obtain if he were to remain alone.
So without thinking, he cast his head back and made his own call — the call of the hunt, a sound which would be easily identified to any wolf in the area. Once he made his summons he sucked in a cold breath and went on his way - he wanted to get a look at the target.
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It had gotten far colder since he'd ventured away from the mountains. Oddly, it didn't affect him as much as Tryphon would've thought. He was a coastal wolf — or so he'd always thought — yet he'd developed a thick winter coat so as to combat the freezing temperatures. He noticed the shifting in the weather as he moved north, and assumed it was only because he was heading in to the taiga; the sparsely growing pine trees eventually clustered upon a ridge and he took shelter there, but not for long.
He was scouting out the other half of the forest (a little ways down the ridge, but seemed as if it had been privy to some attention of late) when he heard a call bleating in to the wind. It was faint, but after a second of standing and listening, he heard it again — a sorrowful call from an elk, he thought. As Tryphon hadn't been mindful of his meals lately, he knew in that instant that he was very hungry. At the same time (while he found his way through the forest and out to a clearing), he knew that a bull elk was an impossible meal to obtain if he were to remain alone.
So without thinking, he cast his head back and made his own call — the call of the hunt, a sound which would be easily identified to any wolf in the area. Once he made his summons he sucked in a cold breath and went on his way - he wanted to get a look at the target.
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A summoning cry struck the frigid winter air, and in a flurry of ink and silk Coelacanth turned, tufted ears twisting eagerly to locate the source. Though she was clearly not in the best condition — the curves of her hips, spine, and ribs were clearly delineated beneath her feathery fur — her Neptune eyes were bright and alert and there was a visible spring in her step. Ensconcing her bowl beneath the heavy, ice-limned boughs of a nearby tree, she followed the fresh trail of wolfscent until she was near enough to make her presence known to the heavyset wolf of stone and ice. He was older than her and in good health, without any decipherable pack scent, and he moved with supple purpose. Lifting her finely-sculpted head, she issued a low whuff as she closed a modest portion of the distance between them. Skittish and unsure, she hung back to gauge his reception, keeping pace and offering space with the same fluid precision.
January 23, 2017, 03:21 PM
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He did not have to wait long, which was hardly surprising considering the harsh weather. But what arrived made him give pause, for it was not a heavily built winter beast like himself. In fact, something deep within Tryphon's spirit - his very soul perhaps, or something akin to his instincts - was hesitating when he saw the dark figure. She had a tapered face and thin limbs, whispy fur, looking more deer-like than wolf-like on first glance. But she was cautious and showed all the signs of wolfish behavior, thus in the next moment he was more than accepting of her. She was odd, but good enough.
While he had been looking for the elk - or whatever had called out - he hadn't found much. There were tracks in the ice. They led erratically through the taiga. And now that he had company, Tryphon was more interested in the stranger than the hunt. He called out to her - an inviting chuff - and then seemed to look around, sniffing the cold air in search of the elk's scent. Perhaps she would have better luck in tracking it?
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He did not have to wait long, which was hardly surprising considering the harsh weather. But what arrived made him give pause, for it was not a heavily built winter beast like himself. In fact, something deep within Tryphon's spirit - his very soul perhaps, or something akin to his instincts - was hesitating when he saw the dark figure. She had a tapered face and thin limbs, whispy fur, looking more deer-like than wolf-like on first glance. But she was cautious and showed all the signs of wolfish behavior, thus in the next moment he was more than accepting of her. She was odd, but good enough.
While he had been looking for the elk - or whatever had called out - he hadn't found much. There were tracks in the ice. They led erratically through the taiga. And now that he had company, Tryphon was more interested in the stranger than the hunt. He called out to her - an inviting chuff - and then seemed to look around, sniffing the cold air in search of the elk's scent. Perhaps she would have better luck in tracking it?
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Odd to wander around aimlessly, even to pick up the trail: 6.
Coelacanth’s tail windmilled behind her as she shimmied nearer on dancing paws that couldn’t seem to quiet; they beat an eager pitter-patter on the rime-slick ground while a soft, toneless whine spilled from her lips in an overture of desperate friendliness. The golden-masked wolf had accepted her, and she sheltered briefly in his reassuring shadow before fanning out across the taiga with her nose alternately hovering above the ground and pointing skyward. Spindly legs carried her in a lissome, flowing gait as she ranged in a series of wide arcs, always returning to the predominantly grayscale male, betraying her subconscious desire to verify that he was still there — still with her. Salmon pink tongue darted from betwixt her canines to swipe across her nose, heightening her sense of smell, as a blistering winter wind buffeted at her waiflike framework. On a whim, she scouted far to the northwest — “the Sea always provides,” Szymon often said — and was rewarded with a pile of elk droppings that, while not precisely warm, had not frozen solid.
Turning her finely-crafted head, she “barked” — an airy whuff punctuated by a soft snap! of her fangs.
Turning her finely-crafted head, she “barked” — an airy whuff punctuated by a soft snap! of her fangs.
January 24, 2017, 02:11 PM
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When she barked, he turned his roaming attention back to her and dashed to meet up. The boy bumped her hip with his nose in a playful manner, and then side-stepped and investigated the pile on his own. It was cold, but not frozen, as she'd discovered. A few yards away from it was another series of tracks in the ice, but soon enough they were enveloped by a wedge-shaped break in the snow from where the creature had climbed up the hillside. The loose snow had compacted under it's weight, and there were indications that the snow had become deep enough to nearly submerge the full-grown elk.
Tryphon and his companion could move atop the snow with some ease, being lighter than the big old ungulate. That didn't answer where it had gone though — and the trail had nearly died. Poised atop a rise in the snow, Tryphon tried to look around, tried to sniff the air, taste it with his tongue, but there was nothing to follow. Until the tired sound of the elk's voice carried on the wind. His ears twisted to catch it, and then he leveled a startled - excited - look at his dark companion. Did you hear that?
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When she barked, he turned his roaming attention back to her and dashed to meet up. The boy bumped her hip with his nose in a playful manner, and then side-stepped and investigated the pile on his own. It was cold, but not frozen, as she'd discovered. A few yards away from it was another series of tracks in the ice, but soon enough they were enveloped by a wedge-shaped break in the snow from where the creature had climbed up the hillside. The loose snow had compacted under it's weight, and there were indications that the snow had become deep enough to nearly submerge the full-grown elk.
Tryphon and his companion could move atop the snow with some ease, being lighter than the big old ungulate. That didn't answer where it had gone though — and the trail had nearly died. Poised atop a rise in the snow, Tryphon tried to look around, tried to sniff the air, taste it with his tongue, but there was nothing to follow. Until the tired sound of the elk's voice carried on the wind. His ears twisted to catch it, and then he leveled a startled - excited - look at his dark companion. Did you hear that?
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Coelacanth reveled in the male’s easy companionship; her long, slender legs bunched and flexed to reach the pinnacle of her gait, flowing strides lengthening so she could savor the simple joy of tracking the beast shoulder-to-shoulder. The smoke-and-iron male’s excitement was contagious. Panting elatedly, Seelie nodded in response to his silent question and tipped her head quizzically toward the lonely bellow. “Shall we?” bespoke the sparkle in her Neptune eyes, and at the gold-masked wolf’s urging she took point. Catlike paws snapped into a quicker gear, and the oddly-matched pair broke through the deepening snowdrifts to spot a bull elk, just as they’d hoped — but this elk was the largest creature Seelie had ever seen.
One thing was for certain: two wolves alone could never bring down such a magnificent beast. He was kingly, the prongs of his vicious-looking rack encrusted in frost, and his fur was peppered with snow and ice. His breath came in wicked curls as he snorted, sighting the wolves, and stomped one cloven hoof. The bull appeared to be fashioned of the winter weather, a harbinger of the perils yet to come, and Coelacanth turned an uneasy eye to Tryphon. A testing step was taken toward the grizzled herdmaster, and when the elk snorted again — this time in derision — and began to move off, “Let us give chase!” she begged the larger wolf, darting forward a few steps with a soundless bark. With a huffing sigh, the elk moved into a lumbering trot, annoyed and disgruntled but wholly certain of his safety; and Coelacanth followed, good-naturedly nipping at his heels. When her excess energy was spent, she turned to her impromptu hunting partner with a silent farewell; then she retrieved her bowl and trotted carefully back to the bay.
One thing was for certain: two wolves alone could never bring down such a magnificent beast. He was kingly, the prongs of his vicious-looking rack encrusted in frost, and his fur was peppered with snow and ice. His breath came in wicked curls as he snorted, sighting the wolves, and stomped one cloven hoof. The bull appeared to be fashioned of the winter weather, a harbinger of the perils yet to come, and Coelacanth turned an uneasy eye to Tryphon. A testing step was taken toward the grizzled herdmaster, and when the elk snorted again — this time in derision — and began to move off, “Let us give chase!” she begged the larger wolf, darting forward a few steps with a soundless bark. With a huffing sigh, the elk moved into a lumbering trot, annoyed and disgruntled but wholly certain of his safety; and Coelacanth followed, good-naturedly nipping at his heels. When her excess energy was spent, she turned to her impromptu hunting partner with a silent farewell; then she retrieved her bowl and trotted carefully back to the bay.
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